Page 71 of Mafia King’s Dangerous Vow

“Aleksander.” Kalinin sounds smooth. “I have something you’ll want.”

No greeting. No wasted time. He knows exactly how useful he is and enjoys making us acknowledge it.

“Go on.”

“The Colombians have abandoned the Rotterdam restoration channel.”

Yuri steps closer, tablet in hand.

“That was fast,” Igor says.

“They understood it was closed to them.” Kalinin pauses for effect. “Eventually.” The satisfaction in his voice is subtle but unmistakable.

“What are they doing instead?” I ask.

“Approaching private storage facilities through shell buyers. They’ve made inquiries at three bonded vaults in New York and New Jersey.”

“Names.”

“Two are noise. The third is Bellweather Storage in Elizabeth.”

Igor straightens while Yuri begins pulling the facility records. Bellweather sits between one of our protected freight corridors and a customs inspection site. Quiet, private, positioned well enough to reroute high-value inventory before anyone notices the paperwork has changed.

“Who made the approach?” Yuri asks.

“A broker named Tomás Saldívar, acting through a Delaware company called Meridian Fine Holdings. He also purchased the cooperation of Bellweather’s night manager.”

“Verified?” I ask.

“I don’t call with speculation.”

Yuri checks an incoming message. “Documents just came through.”

Kalinin lets the silence settle, giving us time to appreciate that he anticipated every question.

“The night manager has gambling debts,” he continues. “Nothing dramatic. Just enough to make loyalty negotiable.”

“What do you recommend?” Igor asks.

“Replace him before the Colombians realize he’s been identified. Quietly.”

“We’ll handle it,” Igor says.

“I assumed you would.”

Kalinin sounds almost benevolent. That is the part I hate most. Without his export certifications, European storage access, and customs relationships, we can still move inventory. We just can’t move it invisibly. Since the wedding, delayed transfers have cleared, two compromised brokers have been removed, and the Colombians have failed to establish a single permanent route.

The alliance is working. Which means breaking it will cost us.

“One more thing,” I say before he can end the call. “Bellweather confirms they’re working through personal leverage, not only infrastructure.”

“Meaning?”

“We’re widening the review. Former couriers, handlers, anyone with surviving relatives or unresolved obligations the Colombians could exploit.”

“Prudent.”

There’s faint approval in his voice, as though I’ve arrived at a conclusion he reached days ago.