Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 120165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
First, he blinked at me. Then he cocked his head to one side and gazed at me for a long time, and he must have seen the change in me because his eyes suddenly became warm, as if I’d just made him very, very happy...and a little sad, at the same time. “Yes,” he told me, his voice ragged with emotion. “Yes, Krasavitsa, of course.”
When we arrived at Gennadiy’s house, a steady, ice-cold rain was hammering the roof and windows. We got soaked just running from the car to the door. Gennadiy showed us in, but seemed a little surprised to see me.
Radimir fixed him with a glare. “I told you: she’s family now.”
Gennadiy sighed and nodded and took us through to a wood-paneled room with a huge oak table. We all sat down and it was only when Gennadiy reached for the vodka bottle to pour himself a shot that I saw his hand and gasped. He was wrapped in bandages up to the wrist.
“Burns,” he muttered. “Spartak torched one of our casinos last night. I went in to make sure all the staff got out okay. Everyone’s alive but it was close.”
Valentin was hurt, too: someone had side-swiped his car and he’d rammed into a lamppost. The airbags had saved him, but his head was wrapped in bandages. And Mikhail was glowering, his hands shaking as he petted his dogs. He had two nestled on either side of him and was hugging them protectively. “We were walking downtown, and someone threw a piece of meat right in front of them. I managed to get it out of their mouths, and it was full of fucking rat poison. What sort of bastard tries to poison dogs?!” It was the only time I’d ever seen him angry.
Gennadiy got up and started to pace. “Spartak has put a price on all our heads.” He looked at me sadly. “Even yours. He has a lot more men than we do and they’re well trained. This place is fortified but you’re not safe outside these walls. Don’t go anywhere, not even down the street to get a cup of coffee.”
I nodded, feeling sick. Someone wanted me dead. Someone was willing to pay money to end my life: I couldn’t wrap my head around that.
Gennadiy sighed and leaned forward over the table. “I’ve called The Eight over and over. They’re still denying they told us to kill Spartak’s brother. They say this is all our fault and they won’t rein Spartak in. In the last twenty-four hours, he’s hit seventeen of our places. Bars smashed up, warehouses torched.” He dropped into a chair, defeated. “I’d say we’ve lost about a quarter of what we have.”
A quarter! A quarter of the Aristov empire just gone, in a day. Three more days and they’d have nothing left. Then I corrected myself and sat straighter in my chair. We. We would have nothing left. I was a part of this, now.
“Why would The Eight do this?” asked Valentin. “Call us, give us the order and then deny it? We’ve always obeyed them. And they want peace: that’s the whole reason all the families obey them, to keep the peace. They must have known this would start a war.”
We all looked at him hopelessly. No one had an answer. But then I frowned. A half-idea was slowly forming, a reflection of something Valentin had said. It felt like looking at the moon in a rippling puddle: there was something there, but I couldn’t see it clearly, yet.
“Our legal businesses aren’t doing much better,” said Radimir. He’d spent most of the flight making phone calls. “Three construction projects have just stopped because politicians have withdrawn their approval at the last minute. They’re people I have no hold over, I was relying on the other families to pressure them, because we all benefited. But no one’s playing ball anymore. We’re losing about two and a half million a day.”
Even the Aristovs would be bankrupt soon, at that rate. I kept frowning, still trying to make my idea come into focus.
“No one will even return my calls,” said Mikhail sourly. “They know that if they help us, The Eight will cut them off, too.”
Gennadiy knocked back a shot of vodka and poured another. “I wish I’d never answered that fucking call.”
And in a rush, the idea stabilized and snapped into focus. I drew in my breath...but I couldn’t speak. The four men had started arguing about what to do. And despite how much I’d gotten to like Gennadiy, Valentin and Mikhail, they were still intimidating as hell. They were Bratva. I was an outsider. But I couldn’t just stay silent. The words swelled up inside me as the argument got louder and louder. And finally, I closed my eyes and blurted. “What if they didn’t call you?”