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All arranged; wait for further information.
Kaz
“Okay, Valentin, the ball is in your court. Now we wait.”
My phone rang about an hour later after receiving the e-mail from Kaz. It was an unknown number, probably blocked. I allowed it to ring two times before I answered the call, not wanting to appear too anxious. I said hello, and there was a pause before I heard the caller respond. It was who I was expecting; I didn't believe it would be so quick.
“Bourne Atwater?”
“Yes, to whom may I ask is calling?”
“Hmm, you Brits are certainly well-bred with manners and proper protocols, aren't you?” He said in an almost mocking tone.
“I try to be, and I expect an answer to any question I ask.”
“Of course, I would expect nothing less, but you already know my name, or you would not have sent the inquiry for me to be in touch. So, here I am, and if you know anything about me, you will know I am a busy man who plays no games or tolerates them. What is your business, and why are we talking?”
“I believe we have a mutual associate in common, and I've recently acquired vital information you may want to be aware of.”
“Pertaining to whom?” he questioned.
“Marco Santoro, Pavlo Shirmanov, and his brother, Andreas.”
“I see, and this information is what exactly? And why do you feel I need to know about it?”
“Well, that's just it, Valentin; it may be old news, but I still believe it's relevant, and you need to be privy to it.”
“Did I give you permission to address me by my first name?” he said coldly.
“No, you did not. My apologies, Mr. Vasiliev,” If he wanted manners, I could do that as long as, in the end, this removes Lucas Santoro from Sabina’s life forever.
“You have my attention, Mr. Atwater, and believe me when I say that is one feat that is hard to achieve. However, we will meet and discuss your business further when I am in London next week. Have your assistant make the arrangements and forward them to me. The day is Monday, don’t be late. Are we clear about the meeting?”
“Affirmative, but if I may, I’d also like to clarify something.”
“I’m listening,”
“Feel free to research my name if you haven’t done it already, you will find that I do not fuck around, and I will destroy anyone who dares to fuck with me. This meeting is about protecting someone I care about very deeply. One more thing, we Brits are never late.”
“Very well, Atwater; I'll be in touch.”
I ended the call to find Edric standing in front of my desk, looking a bit weary, a look unfamiliar to me. “Yes? Is Sabina okay?”
“She’s fine and downstairs with Anna. She’s keeping her busy while she waits for you to go to her. So, what are you doing up here? And why are you talking to Valentin Vasiliev?”
“Don’t you know?”
“Remind me,” he answered.
“Leverage over Lucas Santoro. My first instinct is to remove him from Sabina’s life, but I know she doesn’t want to see him dead.”
“So, you contact the head of the Russian Bratva, also known as the ‘King’ in some circles. On paper and to outside eyes, he’s one of the most powerful lawyers in New York City. He can take a man down with a simple glance; he is feared and never loses, and that’s just in court. Now, what is known to a precious few is, and you know this part quite well because I gave you the file that is as thick as the bible. It took only one power play to eradicate Alaric Vasiliev and Pavlo Shirmanov’s dynasty and make the rest of the heads of families kneel at his feet and kiss his hand. Be careful, Bourne. Inviting the devil through your door without holy water is just plain stupid.”
I listened to Edric have his say, poured myself a drink before looking dead center into his eyes, and said, “Tell me, friend, when did you stop believing in me?”
“Sabina Santoro,” he quietly said. When mentioning her name, I saw red and viewed it as a personal attack on the woman I love.
“I think you should be the one who is careful,” I spat out.
