Page 36 of The Stalking King

I could lift him off his feet with one hand and growl in his face, “If I had even a shred of proof you were behind my shooting, you’d be dead.” And watch him piss his pants.

“I’m afraid that’s confidential,” I say.

“I tried to explain to the senator. Keys are everywhere in this town. And they open all kinds of locks.”

He’s hinting at the phone, reveling in it. It’s pathetic. Childish. And it’s working.

“How profound,” I say. “I’m not sure what it means, but yes, very insightful. Thank you for that.”

He grins even wider. He knows I’m being sarcastic, but it doesn’t do anything to ruin his enjoyment.

“How are things, anyway?” he asks.

“You know,” I say. “A few loose ends. But I’ll tie them up soon enough.”

Tight enough to cut off circulation.

“I’m sure you will,” he says. “It’s like I told the senator. Perhaps the weak link was one of his girlfriends. You know what it’s like with civilians. If we let them too close, they hurt us, or we hurt them. It always happens. It’s inevitable. You’d have to be an idiot to drag an everyday person into this mess. You’d be nursing your wounds for weeks.”

I stand and slowly walk around the desk. I force myself to move slowly, or the Bratva beast inside me will burst out and I’ll wring his neck. His smile has vanished by the time I reach him.

He looks up at me, his mouth open. “You obviously know where we are,” he whispers. “And you obviously understand that my people know where I am.”

He means that I’d be a lunatic to attack him here. He’s right. It could ruin my business.

I lean down, coming face to face with him, the pounding in my skull growing louder. He just threatened Lia without coming right out and saying it. He just threatened the only woman who’s ever made me feel a damn thing.

“You’ve got your contacts,” I say quietly. “You’ve got men you can send to trash a few stores. Even take some potshots on the street.”

“I don’t know what you’re tal⁠—”

He shuts up when I reach out and casually wrap my hand around his neck. He swallows, all the cockiness draining from him.

“But if you take this where you just hinted, you bloated, sick fuck, you’ll see the other side of me, Vale. Is that what you want? Do you want me to send the businessman away?”

He swallows with a loud gulp.

“I asked you a question,” I snarl.

“No,” he whispers.

“This isn’t going how you imagined it would.”

He shakes his head, eyes wide with terror. “No,” he says again.

“If you like your chances, try something. Come out of the shadows. But you won’t enjoy what happens after that.”

Translation: attempt to hurt Lia, and I’ll beat him to death with my own hands. But I can’t say that. The little prick is probably recording this meeting. That’s always a safe assumption in this line of work.

I let him go, nodding to the door. “Go on. Scurry away.”

He stands, hurries to the door, then remembers he’s supposed to be a powerful man. He stops and glares at me. Opens his mouth like he wants to make some face-saving statement.

I take a step toward him, and he flees.

It feels good, but being so openly hostile is a mistake. He won’t forget this.

Before, this was business. He wants us gone because, without the Volkovs, he can own all the data in this city.