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“Time is not guaranteed to any of us,” Mikhail said. “We must work with the time we have, however short or long.”
“My holdings, my men, are being attacked by the day,” Roman said. “My father is in hiding.”
He didn’t know why he was saying this to Mikhail of all people. Mikhail owed him nothing. Even the meeting was a favor.
Still, Mikhail had become a kind of mentor to Roman, although he was sure Mikhail would have rejected the idea. The Spies were meant to be impartial, mediating forces in a world of turbulence and violence.
“It was to be expected,” Mikhail said, a note of disapproval in his voice.
Roman wondered how much he knew about Ruby, about Roman’s determination to save her, about the trip to New Orleans to get Olivia.
He’d been distracted, it was true. He didn’t regret a second of it, but now, with Ruby and Olivia both safely under his roof, he had to address the matter of his crumbling coup.
“I’m fighting two enemies, one of whom is in hiding,” Roman said. “The identity of the other is a mystery.”
His enemies were like ghosts: his father at an undisclosed location, pulling Erik’s strings as Erik postured and preened, the Russian contingent led by a faceless enemy.
“Only one of your enemies must be vanquished,” Mikhail said. “The other can be bought.”
It only took a few seconds for Roman to figure out what Mikhail was getting at: he couldn’t buy his father’s abandonment of the bratva. The organization would have to be seized.
Which meant…
“You think if I eliminate Igor, Russia will retreat?” Roman asked.
“Russia wants steady leadership,” Mikhail said. “A firm hand. The happenings between you and your father had become too… noticeable.”
Roman scowled. “They’re worse now. The fucking news is nonstop, not to mention the Feds.”
The mayor, of course, denied violence was an increasingly serious issue in the city. He stood in front of podiums and microphones, cameras rolling, and lied to the city, told its people everything was under control.
But it wasn’t under control. Someone had set fire to two of Roman’s holdings and half his men had ended up in the hospital. Roman had done his own damage, seizing control of the shipyard used to store the bratva’s oil and burning his father’s favorite restaurant — and the site of his most lucrative bookmaking operation — to the ground.
“Clearly the motherland wasn’t confident in your ability to bring the bloodshed to a quick end,” Mikhail said.
“Clearly.” Roman thought about what Mikhail had said: that Russia could still be bought. “Can you call them off while I deal with my father?”
Finding Igor and eliminating him would be easier and faster without also fighting Russia.
Mikhail shook his head. “That is, what do the Americans say… above my pay rate?”
“Pay grade,” Roman said. “Above my pay grade.”
Mikhail nodded. “To the victor goes the spoils.” He considered his words. “I can give you information when I have it, but the only way to prove the wisdom in allowing you to keep the territory is to fight the enemies you now have. The powers that be want only one thing.”
“Money,” Roman said. “But only because they don’t know they can have anything else.”
Mikhail studied him, and for the first time Roman felt their age difference like a great crevasse. Mikhail wouldn’t want to hear about the influence that came with access to politicians and tech company billionaires, both of which would be on offer when Roman remade the bratva for the 21st century.
“And what is this thing you can deliver that Igor cannot?” Mikhail said. “Besides money.”
“Power,” Roman said.
Mikhail returned his attention to the white egg, resting under the lights on a sea of velvet while the gold palace glittered. “Power would be an intoxicating prize indeed. But money will buy you time.”
Roman drew in a breath, his mind turning. The obstacles between himself and control of the bratva seemed more immovable than ever, but he’d pushed against immovable objects before, had pummeled them bloody until they had, in fact, moved.
He laid out the path to control in his head: remove his father, seize control of his father’s positions, line the pockets of those in Russia who sought to eliminate Roman, make the case for his leadership.
