Vik (Shot Callers 2)

Oh no. I wasn’t going to give in this easily, not when he’d gone through the trouble of making a scene.

“Bleeding Hearts. An hour.”

And Roam laughed heartily until he ultimately said, “This is bold of you, Viktor. I said I liked you. Let’s not push it.”

By the end of this day, I was sure he’d like me less. “This is nonnegotiable.”

Roam sneered, “Everything is negotiable. When you have the power, every-goddamn-thing is flexible up until the moment I deem it isn’t. You feel me, boy? I told you once; I’ll tell you again. I’m your daddy. You are my ward. You came to me with nothing but debt and weak promises. I fulfilled my end of our bargain, and now I own you. Everything has a price. Every debt must be paid.”

Oh, please. Enough with the fucking monologuing. Talk about your standard villain bullshit.

Fuck me.

I did not waver. “Bring my woman, and we’ll talk.”

Now, Roam did not like being ordered around. It was common knowledge, but he further gave himself away when he began, “Listen here, you cocksucki—”

I hung up, and when I felt Sasha’s hand on my shoulder, I breathed, but it was purely mechanical. No matter how deeply I inhaled, I felt no satisfaction and wouldn’t until Nastasia was back in my arms, giving me hell.

Every fiber of my being told me he’d come, but, as predicted, he kept us waiting.

I knew he would.

Roam was all about upsetting the balance, about regaining control, so when he strolled into an empty Bleeding Hearts with a handful of goons at his back, no one was surprised.

I waited for a glimpse of my woman but saw nothing, and when I trained my face on his, he took one look at my irate expression and grinned. “What? You didn’t actually think I’d bring her in before negotiations were handled, did you?”

Fury bubbled far beneath my skin, a steady boil somewhere unknown but deep enough that I felt it in the center of my being, and for a single moment, the numbness that cloaked me was lifted far enough that the words slipped out before I could stop them. “If you touched her, I’ll kill you.”

“Oh, please,” said the infuriatingly calm man as he glimpsed around the room. “I can see the appeal of her spirit, but she isn’t my type.” And when his cool, unaffected stare landed on me, his lips tilted when he added an evocative, “Now, your sister on the other hand….”

Do not bite. It’s what he wants. Take it easy, pal. One hurdle at a time.

Sasha’s jaw steeled, and I watched his fingers stretch, then ball into fists, as though he wanted to lay into him. I had a similar reaction myself, and as my heart pounded so hard I was sure everyone could count the timing of each beat, I took a steady breath and pushed my anger aside.

I couldn’t be emotional, not when discussing business. I would not show my ass and give this dickwad the upper hand. This was too important to fuck up over a few snide words.

Karma. I was a firm believer in that shit, and I took solace in knowing that one day all that Roam had done in life would come back to him threefold. And I sure as fuck hoped I was there to watch his collapse.

What a beautiful sight that would be.

After all, the higher they’re perched, the heavier they fall.

Roam’s dark gaze went around the room, greeting people as he went. “Lev. Sasha. So good to see you. It’s a nice place you got here.” When he got to Philippe, he uttered, “Don’t know you.” Then Alessio, “Or you.” And then he stilled as Laredo stood, tilting his head slightly. “You, however, I vaguely remember.”

Laredo surprised the man by stepping forward and offering his hand to him. Roam looked down at it a long moment before taking it and giving it a hard pump. Laredo said, “I knew Artem.”

And the mention of Roam’s adopted father had his eyes flashing a single moment before he settled his emotions and sniffed a cool, “Yeah, well, so did half of New York.”

Laredo offered him a faint smile. “You’ve taken up where he left off. I’m sure he’d be proud. After all, it’s what he prepared you for.”

Unexpectedly, Roam expression turned hard. “What I was groomed for, you mean?”

Laredo looked at the grown psychopath as though he was a troubled teen and shook his head. “No. I saw it. I saw the way he looked when he spoke of you. His pride was a difficult thing to miss. He loved you.”

Roam let out a bitter laugh. “Artem loved money, glory, and power, and not a single thing more.”

To that, I returned an uninterested, “Like father, like son.”

My aim was true, and the shot met its mark.