Broken Bride (Belaya Bratva 2) - Page 66

He chuckled but swept his hand to the empty seat beside him. “Sit, Pakhan.”


I did so, the others leaving the table at once. “I’m certain you have heard of the war.”


“Who hasn’t?” he countered, shuffling the cards in his weathered hands. “It was a good plan, Kirilenko, but you fucked it up.”


“A small hiccup,” I said lightly, stretching my legs out before me and continuing to keep my cool. I knew he was trying to get under my skin, but I had a lot of practice in maintaining a strong facade regardless of my internal rage. “I had to try something.”


The older man dropped the cards on the table and crossed his arms over his broad chest, covered with an Italian silk shirt and gold chains. “Perhaps. I do believe that our dear departed Stanislav would have been impressed that you thought of such a story and got a very close look-alike in the process. He always was amused by such folly.”


I chuckled darkly. “I doubt he would be laughing, given that someone killed his precious daughter, though.”


“Pah,” Viditori answered with a wave of his hand, disgust on his face. “Stanislav did not even know that girl. He wouldn’t have recognized her on the streets if she walked past him.”


That, I couldn’t deny. It was not a secret that he had brought Sveta over to the States with one goal in mind after his sons had been killed. He had intended to raise her in his likeness to take over the Krasnaya Bratva one day, and yet now his brigadiers were.


What a twisted turn of events.


“I know why you are here,” Viditori said after a moment, his eyes assessing me. “You don’t want me to throw my support behind this little uprising, correct?”


“I want those that did not plan to be involved to stay uninvolved,” I answered slowly. “This war is between the Belaya and the Krasnaya Bratvas, no one else.”


The Don chuckled. “You really think that others are going to remain on the sidelines, boy? No matter what you say, what money you throw around or what promises you keep, you can’t get everyone to remain neutral in this war.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “There are other…what can I say, interests in this war that you cannot stop.”


“All I am asking,” I replied as I pushed out of my chair, straightening my jacket. “Is that you consider remaining on those sidelines. My gratitude will extend to those that do not aid my enemy in this war.”


Viditori looked up at me, a twinkle in his eye. “You have some balls, Kirilenko. I have to give you that. You remind me of me when I was a hell of a lot younger.” He also stood, wiping his palms on his shirt. “But be careful what you say to us old fuckers. We eat small-minded fools like you for breakfast.”


“You might need me one day,” I offered, deciding to let him know that I wasn’t scared of his threats. I wouldn’t hurt him as long as he didn’t go after me, and though the room was lined with guards, I didn’t feel threatened. “And I will think long and hard about lending my aid if you join the remnants of the Krasnaya Bratva.”


His keen eyes settled on me for a few minutes, as if he was sizing me up. “Then perhaps I will consider that thought when I’m approached by your enemy.”


It was all I could do now. I inclined my head and started out of the club, not bothering to watch my back in the process. Viditori was a fucking bust, not that I needed him on my side.


I just needed him not to pick the other guy.


Ivan was waiting for me when I exited the club, and he didn’t say anything as I climbed in, shutting the door behind me. When he started down the road, he finally met my gaze in the rear-view mirror. “Where to next?” he asked.


I rubbed a weary hand over my face. “Take me back to the mansion.” I was tired of trying to play the political game. If no one believed that I could pull this off, then I was about to show them that I could.


I would fight the war the way it should be fought and come out on top so that everyone left in LA knew I was a force to be reckoned with.


Fuck Viditori and the other older fuckers that thought they still reigned supreme. They were dying out, and soon many wouldn’t be left at all.


It was time to make way for the new generation.


My cell phone buzzed and I pulled it out, answering a few texts that had come from Yuri and the others while I was dealing with Viditori. There had been no sighting of Konstantin yet, but it was coming, and when he did show his ugly face, I planned to be there to greet him. While my brigadiers dealt with the bottom feeders, I was waiting for the alpha to show up and potentially end this war before it started.


All I needed was a shot.


Just as I was getting ready to put my phone away, it buzzed again, and this time, it was an unknown caller. For a moment I stared at it, debating whether or not to answer the call. What if it was Konstantin, wanting a truce?


Then I would be fucking dreaming. The man wasn’t going to give me any truce at all.


My thumb hovered over the button before I slid to answer it, putting it on speakerphone. “What?”


There was a chuckle. “I thought you wouldn’t be answering the call.”


For a moment, I didn’t recognize the voice. “Give me one reason not to hang up on you.”


“I can give you two reasons,” he replied. “But what I really wanted to do was thank you for making my plans even easier. I really didn’t anticipate your next move, Pakhan, but was pleasantly surprised nevertheless.”


A shot of cold fear snaked down my spine. “Where the fuck are you hiding?” I growled. “It’s time for you to show your face, Agent Hampton.”


There was no answer, and a moment later, the line clicked off. I clenched the phone tightly in my hand, replaying the conversation in my mind.


Two reasons. He had stated that he had two reasons for me not to hang up.


It could only mean one thing, and it was the last fucking thing I wanted to have happen right now.


He had Naomi.

Tags: Brook Wilder Belaya Bratva Romance
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