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“Maybe you need to be more aggressive,” Vasily mutters and takes a sip of his own vodka.
“Do you have thoughts about what you’d like to do with the land?”
“We want to build a hotel. And we plan to have some visitors from time to time during the construction process. People who will pick up various materials and deliver them to our clients throughout the southeast.” Igor leans forward and drops his voice. “We have sources who tell us your ability to provide those materials is unsurpassed.”
“They’d be right.” I sit back in my chair and steeple my fingers. “But our prices are higher than any other construction company. We do the best work, but it comes at a high cost. Are you prepared to pay?”
“There is no price too high for quality.” Igor’s lips lift into a conspiratorial smirk.
Vasily squirms in his chair. I can practically see the drool slipping out of his lips.
These guys came to me because they want to make fast cash peddling weapons from the specialized gun parts our family can source. After my football career dried up like a woman’s vagina after seeing Jim Belushi naked, I graduated high school and dove into construction. I’d always been handy and it seemed like a good place to start my own business. The Malikov Bratva is already known for weapons trafficking, and with my growing construction network, we figured out how to use the building sites as weapons storage for sales with buyers.
With my older brother Nik running his own car restoration business selling weapons hidden in restored cars, construction seemed like a good way to branch out.
Having ZIM Construction build out their land is like having their own personal gun trafficker on retainer.
Vasily and Igor talk a little more about their “plans” for the hotel, and then the conversation turns in another direction.
“My son just got a football scholarship to Perdue,” Vasily says. He looks at me. “You know, he still talks about the great Zak Malikov. Shame what happened during your last season.” He shakes his head and drains the rest of the vodka from his glass.
I fist the white linen tablecloth in my fingers. “Yeah, it was a tough break.” The words get caught in my throat like ragged popcorn kernels.
“It must have been devastating to have your career end so quickly. I never knew something as small as an ankle break could end a football career.” Vasily waves the waiter over again.
“It wasn’t a small thing. I broke it in multiple places and shattered my fibula.” I clench my teeth to keep my lips from baring them like a wild animal ready to pounce.
“Oh, right. I think I remember reading that.”
Sweat beads pop up along the back of my neck. I shove the chair back and stand up like someone just shoved a rod up my ass. “I have another meeting. Get in touch when you’re ready to start the construction process and we’ll arrange for the first payment.”
I’m gonna soak these fuckers, just for being assholes and dredging up my past. And they can’t question my terms because nobody else can get them the goods I can. It’s why my family controls the distribution of weapons in the southeast.
I don’t give them a chance to say a word. I just stalk away from the table and shove open the dining room doors. Raking a hand through my hair, I walk toward the revolving glass doors in the foyer. The air is thick and toxic, and every breath I drag in makes tiny cuts into my lungs, slashing the hell out of them. I stop and lean against a wall, fisting both sides of my hair.
That motherfucker Kylian ruined my life.
I saw that look on his face while I lay on the field. I saw the victory in his eyes just before I passed out from the hit to the head. Kylian left a clear path for the right tackle to pummel me into the ground. He had no plans to protect me. And then he stole my scholarship right out from under my nose.
He got his revenge.
But I lost everything.
Anger I’d kept buried for almost four years bubbles just under my skin, ready to spew like hot lava at anyone who dares to get close enough to have their ass incinerated.
I let go of my hair and straighten up, a deep sigh leaving my chest hollow. Goddammit. After all this time, I still can’t let it go.
Can’t lethergo.
“Skyla follows you around like a puppy dog. Figure out a way to use that. You need her help to do this job.”
Val’s voice echoes in my ears. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle under the cool rush of air that blows on top of me. Even she didn’t know we were together. Nobody did. And expectation and obligation fucked it all up.
“She’d do anything for you. Just get her to—”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
My head snaps in the direction of the voice.
