Page 27 of The Agreement

Maxim got a new business venture in return. One that would bring him in hundreds of millions of dollars in a matter of years.

“What are they building here—an apartment block?” he asked Josef.

The construction crew continued above them, hammering, sawing and cementing high walls. The premises belonged to the Yazov Bratva, and it was where Roman had been given a small shack as his own office. The construction sounds alone would have been enough to annoy the fuck out of anyone else. Roman had an ability to drown everything else out, barely even noticing the sounds around him.

Josef shrugged in response, muttering low, “Maybe apartments, maybe offices. It’s none of your concern.”

The reply was curt, but not unfriendly. It still reminded Roman that he needed to color inside the lines here—with everyone.

Roman shrugged, too, flicking his cigarette butt to the ground before he stepped down with his shoe and pressed it into the muddy gravel. “No, it fucking isn’t.”

Josef, pleased with that response if the tight smile he gave was any indication, gestured to the shack. They started walking in the direction of the room where Roman worked. At the moment, his hours revolved around making the right phone calls, gathering lists and contacts, and having his ear to the ground. He had to first formulate the team of people he trusted the most, so that when he was ready and had the opportunity for their first serious theft run, he would have a team that was capable, too. One he wouldn’t need to worry about fucking up because they were too green to the business.

“Is the new project going well?” his mother had asked him on the phone two days ago. She wouldn’t outright ask about his work, making it sound like it was a new corporate job because that was easier to swallow, he imagined.

“Fine, Ma.”

“Aren’t you going to ask about him?”

Roman had hesitated. They both knew she had meant his father. He asked instead, “Does he ask about me?”

“Don’t be like that. He misses you, baby.”

Roman had nearly cackled. “Did he use those words?”

Though he hadn’t been looking at his mother’s face—he knew she had to be smiling. Demyan Avdonin, usually emotionless on his best days, wasn’t going to talk about his son in that way. Certainly not now when Roman was a grown ass man.

“So, maybe not,” his mother had added at the end of their conversation with a laugh, “but I know he does, Roman. He’s missed you for a long time—longer than you realize. But how is he supposed to tell you that when you can’t even stand to hear me say it to you?”

He’d needed to get her off the phone after that.

“Don’t worry, you’ll like it here.”

Josef’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Roman wasn’t paying attention, and hadn’t realized the man was still talking.

“The only issue with that is I’m not sure I like it anywhere.”

Josef lifted a brow indifferently. “It’s not like there’s a rulebook that says you have to fit in, no?”

At the door of Roman’s new office, he stopped at the threshold and gave his new companion a twisted grin. Josef would remain at the door for as long as Roman stayed inside.

“No, I don’t really care to fit in,” Roman noted, giving the work around him one last look, “but nobody said anything about me not having a little fun.”

Josef raised his brows in surprise. “Depends on your brand of fun, Prince.”

Roman almost scoffed.

Almost.

“I’m sure you can find something for me to do, and keep me in line—it’s far worse when I have to go and find it for myself.”

Josef groaned, his cheeks working like he was chewing over his thoughts with every clench of his beefy jaws. Technically, it wasn’t an outlandish request. Even the boss would agree that a man of Roman’s age needed a bit of legroom to move and breathe if they wanted to avoid burning him out. Maxim had never specifically mentioned not being allowed to find other channels of entertainment.

He just knew to stay out of trouble.

Simple.

“I’m supposed to keep your nose clean, yeah,” Josef commented after some thought.