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“He’s a snake.”
“Even snakes have their uses,” I remind Micah. “We’re meeting at the Russian Tea Rooms.”
“Aleksandr is working?”
“Yes, I made sure of it.”
Micah nods.
“I expect updates.” I glance up the stairs.
He nods. “Da, Pahkan. I hope you make Asim sweat.”
I arrive at the Russian Tea Rooms to find Asim already waiting for me.
It’s one of the few places in the city where I feel comfortable enough to have meetings. Many of the staff are on my books, and I can trust they’ll be discreet.
“Have you been waiting long?” I slide into the red leather booth opposite Asim and unbutton my jacket.
The lighting is low, with a single candle on the table between us, casting Asim’s face in an orange glow.
He takes a sip of his neat vodka as he regards me.
I know exactly how long he’s been waiting. Aleksandr sent me a message the moment Asim arrived.
“Not long.” He’s almost double my age, with graying hair and faded tattoos creeping up his neck beneath the collar of his white shirt. His dark eyes have a certain haunted quality to them, one I know only too well.
I’ve been working with Asim since my parents died ten years ago. He was one of their most trusted allies, and when I took over as head of the family, he decided to stay.
Many didn’t, but I don't blame them. I was barely into my twenties and tasked with raising three younger siblings as well as running all of my father’s businesses.
Many wanted to see me fail. Which only fueled my desire to succeed.
“How is your new…situation?” Asim has a smirk tugging on his lips as he takes another sip of his drink. “The Bellucci girl settling in okay at casa del Koslov?”
I lean forward in my seat, resting my forearms on the table as I glance around.
The place is packed so there’s no chance of us being overheard, but that doesn’t ease my discomfort.
“I’d rather we keep the topic of conversation to the matter at hand.”
“Of course.” Asim nods.
A waitress appears and sets a rocks glass in front of me. “Double vodka for you, Mr. Koslov.”
Her lips are painted blood red, and her platinum blonde hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her eyes stay on me as I lift the glass to my lips.
Before Bianca, I’d have gladly given her my attention. I’d have taken her back to my penthouse and shown her a good time. But not anymore.
Though it might scare me, my disgust at the thought of sleeping with someone else doesn’t surprise me. The moment I had a taste of Bianca Bellucci, I knew there was no going back.
“Spasiba.” I dismiss the waitress.
Asim smirks as he watches her walk away.
“Now, I suggest you start talking before my brother arrives.”
Asim lifts his drink to his lips and downs the rest, flinching as the vodka burns his throat.
