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“No, it’syouwho have changed!” Abram shouts. “I say we put this to a vote.”
I frown, perplexed. “Putwhatto a vote? Openly declaring war on a psycho warlord who might or might not have started some fires? Hell no. Count Reznikov out.”
“Count Kashenko out too,” Viktor mutters.
Yuri holds up a hand. “Hang on, we’re not officially voting on anything yet—”
“Then let’s vote onthis,” Abram snarls. “I have a motion to bring before the table.” His jaw tightens as his eyes dart to the side, glancing first at his cousin Demyan, then to Anastasia. He takes a slow breath as his lips curl. “I would like invokeOkhrana Soveta.”
What? My brow furrows, and when I glance at Korol, he looks equally confused. So do Lukas and Viktor next to me. Yuri’s face, however, darkens.
“That’s…a big decision to make, Abram,” he says out of the side of his mouth. He clears his throat, his voice raising to address the full table. “For those who aren’t aware,Okhrana Sovetais an archaic provision within the Bratva High Council bylaws, granting a founding table family total authority overeveryfamily at the table in the event of an existential threat on all.” His eyes go around the table. “It can only be invoked by a founding family, so currently only the Diduch or the Kalishnik family,” he growls, turning to glance at Marko. “It does require a majority vote to pass.”
Yuri glances at Viktor and I before turning to Abram. “I’m only the chairman of this table. I can’t stop you from invoking this, but I need to caution everyone here that this is anextrememeasure. Abram, I’m assuming your vote is for the Diduch family and yourself to assume full control?”
“It is,” Abram says tersely.
“Just to be clear,” Yuri growls. “This means that if passed, every family at the table would be beholden by High Council law to give Abram full control of their security forces, without question. I hope everyone is aware of the full implications of that.”
“You’re being overly diplomatic, Yuri,” Viktor hisses through his teeth, glaring at Abram. “It means he gets to play dictator withourmen.”
“Yes,” Abram sneers back. “To stop Drazen from—”
“To dowhatever you want, once you’re in control,” Viktor fires back. “I’m almost twice your age, Abram. Don’t think for a second that I’m unaware of the concept of leveraging fear for power.”
Abram shrugs as he turns to Yuri. “Start the vote.”
Yuri’s mouth tightens, but he nods. “So be it. I vote no.”
“No,” Viktor mutters.
I shake my head. “Until we have even a shred of evidence that Drazen is behind any of these attacks, this is impulsive at best. It’s a no from Reznikov.”
Abram glares at me but then turns to smirk at Demyan, who smiles.
“The Ozerov family votes yes to my cousin’s generous offer to save this Council.”
“Well there’s a shocker,” Lukas mutters next to me. “Sanctimonious little boot licker.”
“Obviously, I vote yes as well,” Abram tosses out.
My gaze swivels to Anastasia. Well, this should be a fast vote. It’s currently three no to two yes. Marko Kalishnik is old school. And while he and Olek were friends, it’s pretty clear that friendship hasn’t extended to the nephew with the Napoleon complex. And Anastasia? I bite back a grin. She’s no idiot, and Abram’s attempt at making himself emperor of this table is so nakedly obvious—
“Javanovic votes yes to the measure.”
You can almost hear the record scratch. I stare at Anastasia, but she carefully avoids all eye contact.
“These are dangerous times, and they require a firm response. My vote is yes.”
What the fuck?
It’s clear Yuri, Ilya, Viktor, and Lukas are all as confused as I am as the attention shifts to Marko—who is suddenly the tiebreaker, and after being so wrong about Anastasia, I’m suddenly not so sure about this vote being such a slam dunk.
Marko frowns, staring at the table in front of him as his fingers drum the surface.
“Marko,” Yuri says gently. “You have the deciding vote.”
“Vote,” Abram hisses.
