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Danil smiles. “I don’t think so.” He snaps his fingers, and the room suddenly goes silent. It takes me two heartbeats to realize the guys behind the counter are no longer making pizzas—they’re standing there, all of them staring at me with blank, almost bored expressions. I notice one’s holding a knife, another’s holding a cleaver. I’d bet anything there are guns scattered all over, hidden in tiny crevices, taped beneath the counter.
“So that’s it,” I murmur, frowning appreciatively. “I was wondering why you chose this spot.”
Danil makes a shooing gesture and the men get back to work.
“There’s a club my father owned called Valley Charm. I have fond memories of that place growing up and I want it back. The owners are proving very uncooperative, and if you’re able to get me the rights then I will be willing to negotiate a ceasefire and a truce. If you can do that, we can work together. Those are my terms.”
I tense my jaw. I don’t like working on his terms. I don’t like being dictated to. But there’s no alternative—Olivia put me in a shit position with that promise. It’d be easier to lure him somewhere and put a bullet in his head, but for now I can play the game if it means keeping my wife relatively happy.
“I’ll consider your offer,” I say and push my chair back. It would be much too mortifying to accept outright and I won’t stoop to that level.
Olivia doesn’t stand with me. “Why did you want me to come to this meeting, Danil?”
He hesitates. That pained expression returns and I put my hand on the back of Olivia’s chair. I don’t like this—I don’t like that she’s here, or that she’s restraining me, or that Danil’s acting like she has some kind of power over him. I regret this intensely and wish I hadn’t given him this opportunity to gain the upper hand. These relationships, they’re all about power, about strength and fear and control, and allowing Danil to set the pace is like giving him a head start in a race.
“I can’t reason with a man like Casso,” he says, staring at my wife, and my fingers turn white as I tighten my grip. “But maybe you will speak sense.”
“I’m not sure I can.”
“We went through the same thing ten years ago, Olivia. We’re more alike than you realize.”
“That’s enough,” I say and pull Olivia’s chair back. She gets to her feet and smooths her clothes, frowning at Danil, but I steer her away. The men behind the counter are watching, though they’re still making the pizza like they’re actual employees, and for all I know, they really are. Danil doesn’t stand or move to stop me, but he’s watching the whole time, those steely eyes following at a slow creep. I drag Olivia out the front door and into the rain until I spot the car parked nearby.
“What the hell was that?” she asks once we’re inside and on the road. She’s trembling and I can’t tell if it’s from what happened or from getting wet.
“I don’t know, but I think you should reconsider your request. This would all be much simpler if you’d allow me the freedom to make my choices as needed.”
She glares at me. “You’re not killing him.”
“Why? Because the two of you are so alike?”
Her cheeks burn crimson. “That’s not it.”
“Or because you think you’re better than me? You’re not a killer, so that gives you the moral high ground? I’m sorry, princess, but your whole life is built on the blood of the dead. You can renounce all that as much as you like, but you’re still no better than anyone in my family.”
Her jaw works. I sit and seethe. I shouldn’t take my frustration out on her, but I don’t know where else to direct it.
“What are we going to do?” she asks finally, quietly.
I shake my head. “I don’t have much of a choice. I can gather more strength and crush him, but you’ll make my life hell if I do, or I can play this absurd game and see how things turn out.”
“Then let’s play,” she says and stares out the window, her body language suggesting she’s done with this conversation.
I let it drop. To hell with arguing. I’ll follow the path set out in front of me for now—it won’t be hard finding out who owns that club and I suspect I’ll be able to acquire it without too much difficulty. Everyone’s got a price, and I’m good at finding it.
But there’s more to this than Danil’s letting on. I don’t believe for a second that he’s back only to retrieve some ancient strip club his father used to own. The way he was looking at Olivia, the pain and anger in his face, that little speech about me, there’s more to it. This timing can’t be a coincidence.
