John Morovov nodded like a bobblehead. He splayed his hands out. “I understand.”
“Do you?” I challenged.
“I… I do,” he stammered. “And I also wouldn’t try to insult you with the meager offer of an apology, as if that would erase the sting of this unfortunate mistake.”
“It’d be a fucking start,” Alexei growled.
John bobbed his head more. “I am sorry for the unintended and unfortunate ripples of this mistake. But I would like to not only offer an apology but amends.”
I huffed one dry bark of laughter. “Oh. You’re under the delusion that you can escape punishment for this mismanagement?”
He shook his head so jerkily that his jowls swayed. “No. No. You have every right to be displeased with my firm.”
“Displeased?” Maksim mocked.
John held his hands up. “I understand you’ve come with anger.”
I shook my head. “You’re not following. We are here to exact punishment.”
“But perhaps… instead, I could offer you a different payment to make up for this debt of a mistake?”
Narrowing my eyes, I studied him closely.
What the fuck are you plotting?
He’d been prepared.
“I propose giving you my daughter.”
I didn’t react. Maksim and Alexei refrained from budging too.
Curiosity flitted through me, and I arched one brow, a silent prompt for him to continue.
“I am willing to let you have my daughter, who actually is an accountant here.” He cleared his throat.
Are you throwing her under the bus to save your own ass?
Is there something wrong with her?
Or are you actually stupid enough to spring a trap and send a mole with us?
No matter the questions that sprang up, I couldn’t see a big enough reason not to take this offer. I could still make an example out of this situation. I could sell her. Kill her. Anything of the sort. No matter what I did after this father surrendered his own flesh and blood, it would be leverage awarded back to me. I could still show the world that I held power and that no mistake against my family would go unpunished.
“No, we will not?—”
I held up my hand, silencing Alexei. My stern glower had him sighing with an exhale, put out to be cut off like that.
“This is an insult,” Maksim said. He shook his head and faced me. “An insult. His daughter? No. Mr. Morovov, we are here to assist him in demanding blood.”
“I will,” I stated.
They both shot me dubious looks.
“I will demand blood.” I pinned Morovov with a harsh glare. “Yours and hers, perhaps.” Standing, my decision made, I dared the cunning liar to renege. “Bring her in.” I smoothed my hands down over my jacket as I embraced the triumph of my first major punishment delivered as the interim Pakhan.
6
ELENA
