We’d soon see who would be laughing.
“Let’s take this to my office,” he suggested. Now, as he led us through the workspace, where employees ducked and tried not to ogle or stare, he lost some of his bravado. A slight twinge of discomfort showing in the lines bracketing his eyes and mouth gave away his masked nervousness. The red hint of embarrassment on his cheeks was a giveaway that he wasn’t calm about our arrival.
At the door to his office, the guards with us checked in. They deferred to Alexei, and he nodded at them with a silent order to stand by. It was a wise choice, because as we entered Morovov’s office, I scanned the furnishings and space for us to join him here. Only two chairs faced his across a large desk that I bet his father and grandfather had. A couple of ugly art reproductions were hung on the wall and the faint smell of vodka lingered in the air. It was nondescript and otherwise bland, and I had a distinct impression that he was seldom here. When a hardworking man often and consistently did his best, he left an imprint on his workspace. For the sheer reason that he wasthere, it would look like a lived-in space. I had realized that in moving into my father’s office, but I shoved aside the thought that my father had already run out of time to leave any more of his imprint anywhere.
I sat while Maksim took the other chair. Alexei stood between the two of us, his back straight and his face devoid of any emotion. Or patience.
“What the fuck is going on?”
I slid my gaze to Maksim after he commenced the meeting with that blunt question.
I supposed in other circumstances, I should’ve been the one to start talking, not him. And I supposed in any othercircumstance, I would’ve led with a blunt and direct inquiry like that. Maksim and I were the same in that we had low interest in tolerating stupidity or diversions.
“Nothing that can’t be fixed,” John Morovov replied. He wasn’t as confident now. Maybe he felt cornered with the three of us in here, outnumbering him at his firm. I didn’t give a fuck.
“Fixed?” I shook my head slightly. “No. First you explain what happened with that transaction and why anything to do with our accounts would ever be labeled as having insufficient funds.”
The stodgy man swallowed.
“Andthen, I will determine if and how a remedy to this situation can be reached.”
In other words, prepare to pay, dumbass.
Prepare to beg for mercy.
You have no power here.
For the next ten minutes, John proved that he wanted to be a cunning, sly man who could trapeze his way out of a mistake. His rambling explanation wasn’t one at all. Instead, he talked too quickly, giving away how nervous he was. He offered us circuitous analogies with big words and lofty catchphrases to make it seem like he was lecturing but was actually offering nothing but empty fluff. Politicians campaigning for office pulled these stunts. Conmen who wanted to appear ready to compromise played games like this.
I wasn’t amused.
I was quickly losing patience too.
Per my brother and cousin staring at him stoically and unconvinced like this, like I was, I knew they weren’t buying this line of bullshit either.
An expired time on an account? Some bogus code malfunction that changed fields in a spreadsheet?
Give me a fucking break.
He was talking out of his ass and not once did he come remotely close to admitting that his firm had fucked up.
I turned to look at Maksim, then Alexei. They both didn’t react, giving me the impression they were thinking the same thing.
Bullshit.
Morovov was talking out of his ass, scrambling to deny fault and to paint the picture that this little mistake wasn’t anything to blow out of proportion.
After letting him stew for a long moment as torture, I cleared my throat at last. “You fucked up.”
He opened and closed his mouth, but I held my hand up. “Do not insult me by suggestingotherwise. The Volkov Bratva has hired the services of Morovov Financials to manage banking services for many years.”
I was careful and deliberate in wording it. By not stating that I was in charge instead of my father, I generalized the fact that remained true.
“And, and, and we can continue that mutually lucrative arrangement,” he replied.
“Not receiving that shipment was not lucrative for us,” Maksim said, deadpan.
“Nor is the suggestion that our businesses wouldeverhave insufficient funds,” I added.
