5. Alexsey Alex Lenkov
ALEXSEY "ALEX" LENKOV
I've been standing outside Nick's building for fifteen minutes, waiting for Russ to show up for this goddamn meeting.
The negotiations have been dragging on for three months now, and we're still stuck on the same fucking issues.
Territory redistribution, shipping routes through the port, and enforcement jurisdiction.
Every time we think we've got something settled, one of our captains raises hell about losing ground or getting squeezed out.
The merger makes sense on paper.
Three families consolidating into one syndicate would give us control over the entire eastern seaboard, eliminate internal competition, and present a unified front against the Italians moving in from the south.
But getting there means convincing thirty captains across three organizations that they're not getting fucked in the process.
It means redistributing power without triggering a rebellion, and doing all this as secretly as possible until we have things solidified.
Tonight's meeting is supposed to address the shipping routes.
Nick controls the northern docks, Russ has the southern ports, and my family runs the warehouses and distribution networks inland.
We need to figure out how to merge operations without stepping on each other's toes or pissing off the men who've been running those operations for years.
I check my watch. Russ is late, which isn't surprising. The kid's brilliant when it comes to strategy, but punctuality isn't his strong suit.
The night air is cool, and the street is quiet except for the occasional car passing by.
Nick's building is one of the tallest in the city, all glass and steel, with security that would make a military base jealous.
I count at least six armed men visible from where I'm standing, and I know there are twice that many I can't see.
I'm running through the numbers in my head, calculating how much revenue we'd gain from consolidated shipping operations, when the building's main entrance opens.
A woman steps out, and my brain registers her face before I can process why it matters. Red hair, blue eyes, and curves that I remember in vivid fucking detail. For the first time in years, I'm genuinely caught off guard.
Marla. My dick twitches in remembrance, and I shift slightly. I've taken women home before. Enjoyed our time together, fucked them, then carried on with my life.
But that night with Marla was different. For some reason, I haven't been able to get her out of my mind.
What the hell is she doing coming out of Nick's building at eleven o'clock at night?
The answer hits me like a punch to the gut, and I feel something cold settle in my chest. She's been with Nick.
Tonight.
That's the only explanation for why she'd be leaving his penthouse at this hour.
Before I can decide what to do with that information, headlights sweep across the street as Russ's SUV pulls up to the curb.
He gets out, and I see the exact moment he notices her.
His entire body goes still, his eyes locking onto her face with an intensity that tells me everything I need to know.
He's fucked her too.
Our eyes meet across the hood of his SUV, and I see my own realization reflected back at me.
We don't need words.
We've been doing business together long enough to read each other instantly. The girl we've both been with has apparently been with all three of us.
She looks between us, and I watch the color drain from her face as she realizes we're together and know each other.
Her eyes go wide with something that looks like panic, and before either of us can say a word, she's walking quickly down the street toward the parking garage.
"Wait," Russ calls out, but she doesn't stop. She doesn't even look back.
We watch her disappear around the corner, and the silence stretches between us.
"Well," Russ finally says, his voice carefully neutral. "This is going to be an interesting fucking meeting."
I push off the SUV and head toward the building entrance. "Let's go."
The elevator ride up to Nick's penthouse is silent. Russ stands on one side of the elevator, I stand on the other, and neither of us says a word.
But I can feel the tension radiating off him, the same tension that's coiling in my own gut.
When the elevator doors open, Nick is waiting in his entryway, already dressed in fresh clothes. He takes one look at our faces and his expression shifts, becoming more guarded.
"We have a problem," I say without preamble.
Nick leads us into his office, a room dominated by a massive desk and walls lined with books that I know he's actually read. We settle into chairs, and the atmosphere is thick with unspoken tension.
"The girl who just left..." I start, keeping my voice level and professional. "Marla. I've been with her."
Russ leans back in his chair, his jaw tight. "So have I. Two weeks ago."
Nick's expression doesn't change, but I see something flicker in his eyes. "Tonight," he says simply.
The silence that follows is heavy. We're all thinking the same thing, running through the implications, assessing what this means for business, the merger, and the delicate balance of power we've been trying to establish.
"She approached you?" I ask Russ.
"I approached her. At the Ivory Wolf." He pauses. "Where did you meet her?"
"Same place," Nick says.
"Two weeks ago for me," I add. "Also at the Ivory Wolf."
Nick's fingers drum once on the arm of his chair, the only sign of agitation he's showing. "So she's been systematically working her way through all three of us."
"Looks like it," Russ mutters.
I'm running through scenarios in my head, trying to figure out what her angle is.
Is she working for someone?
Gathering information?
Trying to create leverage?
But nothing about her behavior suggested she knew who we were.
She seemed genuinely surprised, almost innocent in a way that's rare in our world.
"Did she ask questions?" I direct this at both of them. "Anything that might indicate she was fishing for information?"
Russ shakes his head. "Nothing. We talked, we fucked, she left. It was straightforward."
"Same here," Nick confirms. "No questions about my work, my family, or anything that raised red flags."
I think back to my own encounter with her. She'd been nervous but eager, responsive but not calculating.
There was no sense that she was playing an angle or working a con.
If anything, she seemed almost naive about the kind of men she was dealing with.
"Could be a coincidence," I say, though I don't believe in coincidences. Not in this business.
"Could be," Nick agrees, his tone suggesting he doesn't believe it either.
Russ shifts in his chair, and I can see the tension in his shoulders. "Or she could be exactly what she seemed. A woman looking for a good time who happened to pick three men who know each other."
"At a Bratva club," Nick points out. "That's not random."
"The Ivory Wolf gets plenty of civilians," Russ counters. "Sharon works there, and she's not connected to anything. Maybe this girl is just a friend of hers."
That's possible. The club does attract regular people alongside our usual clientele. It's part of what makes it useful—the mix of legitimate business and our other operations.
"We need to find out who she is," I say.
Nick nods. "I'll have my people look into it. Quietly."
"In the meantime," Russ says, his voice harder now, "we need to figure out if this complicates the merger."
That's the real question. We're trying to build something here, consolidate power in a way that hasn't been done in decades, if ever. The last thing we need is a woman, no matter how attractive or intriguing, creating friction between us.
"It doesn't have to," I say carefully. "We're all adults. We've all been with the same women before."
"Not like this," Nick says quietly. "Not when we're in the middle of negotiations that could make or break our families."
He's right. The timing is shit.
"Whatever she is, whatever her angle, we handle it professionally," I say. "We find out what she wants, we assess the risk, and we deal with it accordingly."
Russ nods slowly. "Agreed."
Nick is quiet for a long moment, his green eyes moving between us.
When he finally speaks, his voice is calm, almost casual, but there's an edge to it that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
"And what happens if she becomes a liability anyway?"