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As soon as Kirill mentions something about a drug shipment aid, I take a sip of my drink and speak casually, “Shouldn’t Vladimir help?”
“Vladimir is busy with something else,” Sergei says with a dismissive hand. “Damien, you help.”
“But that’s boring,Pakhan,” the latter whines like a kid who can’t play with his toys—aka guns.
“Are you telling me no?”
“Of course not. I’m happy to be of service.” He sighs and retrieves a cigarette, then mutters under his breath to Kirill, “Fucker.”
Kirill merely smirks as he adjusts his black-framed glasses with his middle finger.
“What is Vladimir busy with?” I ask flat out, to which Kirill raises a brow. He knows I don’t prefer direct conflict unless it’s absolutely necessary.
“You’ll all know when I allow it.” Sergei stands, signaling the end of the meeting. “We’ll talk more on Igor’s birthday that I’ll be hosting in his honor. Everyone is invited.”
“Yes,Pakhan.” All the others agree.
Instead of leaving, Sergei faces me, fixating on me with a solemn expression. “Bring Lia, too.”
“She’s been unwell,” I say calmly, even though a part of me is inching to an ignition point.
“She can’t be too unwell to attend the birthday of Igor by the invitation of thePakhanhimself.” He figuratively twists my arm with his purposeful words.
“Yes, Adrian.” Rai joins her granduncle, speaking in perfect American. “Bring Lia. We have alotof catching up to do.”
I don’t miss the way she says ‘a lot.’ I could bring my gun out, shoot her and her granduncle in the face, and torture her guards for answers. But that would get me killed by the rest of the men here or their guards, and I can’t die just yet.
“Make sure she’ll be there,” Sergei orders in a tone that doesn’t allow for negotiations.
“Yes,Pakhan,” I say nonchalantly, almost as if I’m completely fine with the prospect of bringing Lia when she’s not ready at all.
Sergei leaves, followed by everyone else except for Kirill, who deliberately stays behind. It’s only the two of us, Kolya, and his senior guard, Aleksander, who’s tall but slim and has the face of a woman or a pubescent teenage boy.
Kirill readjusts his black-framed glasses, his lips moving in a sardonic smile. “Asking about dear Vladimir was reckless, Adrian. I don’t know you to be reckless.”
“Sometimes, the best defense is a good offense.”
“And sometimes, straight out offense makes you show all your cards.”
“You don’t need to worry, Morozov. I have more cards to reveal.”
His lips tilt in an ugly smirk. “Don’t threaten me when I can be your ally, Adrian.”
I rise and Kolya moves on standby beside me. “I don’t need allies.”
“That’s what you say now, but there will be a day where you will change your mind.”
“Doubt it.”
“You want to bet?”
“Try again in ten years, Morozov.”
He chuckles. “Save my number, Volkov. You might need it.” His voice echoes after me as I head to the entrance.
As soon as I’m in the car and Yan drives out of the property, I tell Kolya, “I want eyes on Kirill.”
“We already have someone who’s following him.”
