Page 72 of Fall Before Her Throne

“How’s the status in your territory?” Obi asked, glancing quickly at his phone. He typed a quick message and sent it off—most likely checking in with Leona. It had been strange leaving her behind with Max, but Ciel was more than capable of protecting her.

“We’re on high alert,” Makarov responded. “Our guys have had some run-ins with some Camorra men sniffing around our borders. They’re already trying to push their narcotics on our corners. They shot up some of my guys in a drive-by two nights ago, but don’t worry. We don’t go down without a fight.”

Obi nodded solemnly. Our drug income streams were tied to the Russians now as part of our alliance. If their business suffered, so did ours.

Ryu inspected the painting leaning against the wall. He pulled the sheet down, exposing an oil painting of a couple sitting on a bench in Central Park, looking out over the landscape. Ryu clicked his tongue. “What’s this, Kostya? Is one of your men a painter? You sure as fuck aren’t.”

Makarov chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “The Bratva is diversifying. Who knew there was money in high-end artwork?”

“Stolen artwork?” Cas asked, smiling.

Makarov put his hand over his heart and gasped dramatically. “How dare you accuse me of such a crime! I’m simply an appreciator and purveyor of fine art.”

It made sense. Stolen artwork usually made a heavy profit on the black market, and with our alliance, the Bratva didn’t want to push into our territories to increase their drug sales. Working the black market was smart on Makarov’s part.

“Mind your business,” Makarov said, pulling the sheet back over the painting and ushering Ryu away from it. “Anyway, thanks for the guns. With the Camorra being giant dicks in the city, it’s been harder for us to secure an easy purchase of weapons through our normal channels. The underworld is spooked. The word on the street is that most of the smaller-scale organizations are already working with them. They’re sweeping through the city very fast.”

Obi pursed his lips. “We have to be faster. Before they become impossible to extricate.”

“I hear you,” Makarov said. “I don’t want those fuckers here any more than you do. The Camorra and the Bratva have never been on friendly terms. Without our alliance, they’d already be coming for me and my territory.”

“We’ll watch each other’s backs,” Ryu said.

Speaking of needing to be faster than them, I nudged Obi and tilted my head at the door. We didn’t have time to loiter here. There was other work we needed to do tonight.

“You guys sticking around?” Makarov asked. “We could use your help if we run into any Camorra fuckers.”

I shook my head. “No, we’re visiting a contact of ours. Someone who can help us stem the flood of Italians into the city.”

Makarov nodded. He rubbed his bottom lip and looked out toward the front of the bodega. “Need backup? I can spare some men tonight.”

Ryuji shook his head. “Nah, we’re good. This is a special visit.”

Makarov gave us a knowing smile. “One day, I want to see how the great Shadows do their work.”

“You’ve seen plenty,” Ryu answered, clasping Makarov’s hand in goodbye. “Now go be the Bratva leader. You have things to do, don’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Makarov said. “Thanks again for the guns.”

“Keep us posted if you lose any ground,” Obi said. “We don’t want their drugs or gun businesses to outsell ours.”

“Will do.”

We left almost as quickly as we had come.

Now it was my turn.

It was easy to slip into the apartment on the twenty-seventh floor of an upscale high-rise on the Upper West Side. Ciel had remotely hacked the security cameras and looped the footage before we snuck into the building through the service entrance. The four of us didn’t even get a sideways look as we hopped into the service elevator, rode it up, and sauntered down the hallway.

I kneeled in front of the “secure” door of the apartment. First, I typed in the code Ciel gave me to break the high-tech lock. Then I pulled a knife from its sheath on my thigh and used the hilt to smack the box. The door cracked open.

I smirked. Too easy.

“Please tell me Ciel doesn’t use this shit for our house,” Ryu said with a snort.

“No,” I laughed. “He’s way better than that.”

Obi shouldered the door open as quietly as he could. With guns drawn, the four of us breached the apartment. It wasn’t like we were expecting any resistance, but one could never be too careful.