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“Our transportation network is incredibly efficient,” Roman answers.
“The product’s quality? I don’t want to sell my customers shit. I need them hooked and coming back for more, otherwise this whole endeavor won’t be worth it.”
“We only work with the best suppliers in all of Latvia and Estonia.”
Lushenko is quiet for a moment, sitting back in quiet contemplation. After a minute, he says, “I want seventy percent. Weekly shipments on Wednesday with the rest of my liquor delivery. Can you make that work?”
Roman looks at me. I look at Leo. I can tell by the glint in his eye he’s already running the numbers. We accounted for this; knew Lushenko might try to play hard ball.
“Sixty-five,” Leo amends.
A tense silence fills the room, nothing but the muffled sound of pounding music filtering in through the thick walls of the office. Lushenko puts out his cigar on the glass ashtray on his desk, stands, and sticks his hand out for Roman to shake.
“Mr. Nicolaevich, you have yourself a deal.”
Roman smiles, laughs, makes all the necessary small talk that comes with a budding new partnership. “You won’t regret this. You’ll be seeing extra cash flow coming in as early as next week.”
“Thank you for the opportunity. To celebrate our new business venture, please feel free to enjoy the club. Drinks are on me, my new friends.”
I’m the first to leave the office, mildly irritated by the flashing lights and over-excess. I have no plans on staying. My brothers can if they want to, but I’d much rather go home and get started on the next step of my plan. I’ve got meetings to arrange, deals to organize, power moves to scheme. There’s no time to stop and celebrate.
But I see her out of the corner of my eye.
Time comes to a standstill. My heart stops, the air squeezes out of my lungs. Surely this must be a trick of the light. Maybe it’s just another gorgeous woman with red hair, blue eyes, and distressingly sexy curves in an emerald green mini dress that makes me forget my own name.
SandrafuckingAntonova.What the hell is she doing here?
Our eyes lock across the dance floor. I can’t tell if she looks pissed or confused to see me. Probably both. I don’t see any of her bodyguards with her, but I’d bet a pretty penny they’re somewhere nearby.
“That went rather well, I think,” Roman says when he catches up to me, clapping me on the shoulder. “What do you say? Feel like grabbing a drink from the bar?”
“I’m down,” Samuil says. “Maybe we can help Leo find a girl to yank that stick out of his ass.”
Leo sneers. “Shut up.”
“Go home, all of you,” I snap hastily. “We’re not here to party.”
Roman frowns. “But—”
“Have you forgotten where we are? We’re in Antonov territory. We’re not here to play, we’re here to work.”
Samuil huffs but doesn’t argue. Roman looks like he has something snarky to say, but Leo complains—much to my surprise.
“Celebrating every now and then won’t kill us, Andrei.”
I glare at him, more than a little aware of the fact that Sandra has now stepped onto the dance floor and slipped into the crowd. The tiny voice in the back of my head tells me to leave. We shouldn’t overstay our welcome. If Sandra’s here, that means the rest of her crew might not be far behind. It’d be a shame to wash all our hard work down the drain over something as stupid as a celebratory drink.
“No,” I state. “Go home. We have too much to do tomorrow.”
Roman sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “Fine, fine. Aren’t you coming with?”
I swallow, my mouth and throat inexplicably dry.Yes, my brain screams. “I have one more thing to clear up with Lushenko,” my mouth says instead.
“Do you need me to stay? Since he thinks I’m you.”
I shake my head. “No. I’ve got it. Now, get out of here.”
Samuil claps me on the shoulder. “Good night, brother.”
