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“I’ll not allow him to agree to a job for you without knowing the details. If you want to hire him, go through the proper channels. If he says yes, then you’ll pay him a fuck lot of money for his services.”
“These promises, they were made in good faith. To ensure you remain alive.”
“You won’t kill either one of us.”
“I would not be so sure of that.” The words were soft and dangerous.
I kept my tone light. “Did you know I lived in Màlaga a few months ago?”
“Oh?”
“While I was there, I kept very busy. A little of this, a little of that. Capisce?”
“And? What does this have to do with me?”
“The Bratva there. Golubev and his men. Do you know them?”
“Yes, of course.”
I had assumed so. If Nikolai was as powerful as Alessio said, he would be like my father, with his fingers in various places all over Europe. “When I was looking for someone to partner with, I found Golubev . . . distasteful. I worked with a local man instead. Martiñez.”
“He is also distasteful,” Nikolai said dryly.
From what I understood, the Bratva and Martiñez had been fighting for control of Málaga and the Spanish drug market for years. Martiñez had certain Colombian connections that didn’t trust the Russians. So this allowed Martiñez to keep a stranglehold on the product. His high demand and insatiable greed were what allowed me to sell him twenty kilos. “Yes, but he has a weakness that can be exploited.”
Nikolai eased forward in his chair. “You know of Martiñez’s weakness?” The thread of disbelief was not lost on me. Nikolai didn’t think I was telling the truth.
I gestured to his phone on the desk. “Call Golubev. Ask him if he met with me three months ago. I was using the name Javier Martín.”
Nikolai seemed to consider this. He looked at his man by the door. The man must’ve nodded because Nikolai lifted his phone, unlocked it, and found the contact he was looking for. He held the mobile up to his ear. Golubev picked up immediately, and the two had an exchange in Russian. I heard the name Javier Martín.
When Nikolai hung up, he tossed his phone on the desk and stared at me. I twirled my sunglasses slowly. “I assume Golubev confirmed my story. And keep in mind Alessio is fluent in Russian.” I tipped my chin toward my ragazzo.
“Da,” Nikolai clipped out. “He said Javier Martín offered up a lot of coke for a ridiculous price. He said it had to be shit product.”
“It was,” I said with a nod. “And that is Martiñez’s weakness. His people don’t know when they are being sold pure coke or baking soda. But I wasn’t lying to Golubev about my ability to bring in whatever he needed there. I could’ve helped him run Martiñez out of business.”
“Golubev does not trust many people. It is what has kept him alive into his sixties.”
“My contacts also do not trust many people. But they trust me and they trust my family. And they will trust whoever I tell them to work with in Málaga.”
“Golubev, you mean. If I agree to let you live.”
“No. Golubev missed his chance.” He’d treated me like a coglione, a fool. A boy playing at a man’s game. I would not forgive it. “But you, Nikolai, I could get them to work with you.”
The lines around his eyes deepened as he squinted at me. “You think I wish to expand into Spain.”
“No.” I paused, then said clearly, “We would expand into Spain.”
“I have no intention of going into business with Fausto Ravazzani.”
“That is not what I offered. This would be between you and me.”
Nikolai’s gaze darted to his comrade near the door. “And what of Golubev?”
“He’s old. From another era. You and I could make a lot of fucking money there.”
The moment stretched. I could tell he was intrigued. “Have you done this before?”
