Page 45 of Fractured Ties

“Khorosho,” he said gruffly as he dropped onto the couch.

Konstantin took a seat closer to the window. “Since when you do you use one of the safehouses?”

“Mind your own.”

“You could attempt to have a real conversation, brat.”

“I could,” Kolya agreed.

He left it at that.

“The good news for you,” Kolya added, his gaze firmly stuck on the television where the bases were now loaded, and the best hitter on the team was coming up to bat, “is that Vadim has been too fucking distracted with his latest guests in the city to notice I was avoiding him.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Konstantin lift a brow.

“Not even a call?” he asked.

Kolya shook his head. “Not one—yet.”

It would happen, though.

Soon, likely.

“That’s about to run out, then,” Konstantin stated, shrugging when Kolya looked to him for explanation. “Kaz headed back to New York today. Suggested his father was staying behind for a bit.”

Kolya scowled. “Vasily works every one of Vadim’s nerves.”

The two Pakhans put on a good show, though.

They managed that.

At least.

He fully expected his father would be in some kind of state—mood-wise—for the next little while. Or for however long it took for Vadim to get Vasily Markovic the hell out of his city.

“He still thinks Vasily is trying to make a move on the counterfeit business,” Konstantin muttered.

Yes, the bread and butter of the Boykov Bratva’s criminal dealings. Oh, sure, they had their hand in just about every pot, but their most and best dirty money was made in their counterfeit cash making business. It was a tradition, really. Passed down through their organization for generations and generations. Some called it an art form, and Kolya would tend to agree.

It was the part of business he liked the most, anyway.

Next to killing.

“That’s because Vasily is trying to move in on it, Konstantin.”

“You think?”

“Vadim won’t even give Vasily the satisfaction of a dollar bill to look at, never mind allowing him to enter the Compound because he knows Vasily only wants those things to have someone replicate our process. Vadim is a paranoid fucker, yes? He’s not a stupid one, though.”

“There’s no honor amongst thieves,” Konstantin murmured, glancing out the window.

“Not in this lifetime, anyway.”

“Huh.”

Kolya glanced over at his brother, but Konstantin’s gaze was stuck on something just outside the window. From his position, he couldn’t see what it was, though.

“Problem?”