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“Before you try anything rash, allow me to warn you,” I say, tilting my head to the side. “If I’m harmed in any way, you’ll never see your daughter again.”
His fingers twitch. I have his attention now. His skin grows pale, his dark hair and eyebrows intensifying.
He recovers quickly. “What do you want?”
“From her, nothing,” I reply. “It’s you that’s indebted to me.”
“What are you talking about?” Dimitri demands. His eyes dart toward the door, as if to reassure himself that he can leave whenever he feels like it.
“I delivered a shipment of guns to you,” I tell him, meeting his stare with my own. “The agreed payment was Katarina’s hand in marriage. I’m only making sure you keep up your part of the deal.”
Dimitri purses his lips together. From the way his body tenses and his shoulders square back, he’s trying to keep his composure. Not used to hearing the word no, Dimitri’s even less thrilled to have witnesses to his moment of defeat.
“And besides,” I add, “you should be happy to have me as your son-in-law. Just think of all the things we’ll do together once we’re family.”
The words are bait, my way of breaking him. They hit Dimitri exactly where they intended to.
I’m not surprised when Igor loses control over himself. His nostrils flare as he steps forward. Peter and Ivan grab the handles of their pistols. All it takes is a second for the situation to fall apart.
“I’m going to kill you.” Igor’s voice is hoarse as he screeches the threat. “I’m going to make you pay for all the suffering you caused our family.”
“All the suffering I caused you?” I repeat, letting my mask slip. “What about what you did to me, Igor? Do you have any inkling what I’m talking about, or are those memories too blurry for your drunken ass?”
Before Igor can reply, Dimitri grabs his arm and pulls him back. There’s a collective exhale as the men surrounding me relax. One more step and the tension would’ve gotten to be too much to resolve without bloodshed.
“This isn’t over,” Dimitri growls. “I’ll find a way to get Katarina back, and when I do, you’ll regret ever being born.”
“So long, then,” I say and wink at him.
Angry silence engulfs Dimitri, but he’s smart enough not to attack while facing such steep odds. I couldn’t care less how many guns they have with them. If a shootout were to break out, they’d lose. As it is, they realize they don’t have the upper hand.
With these words, Dimitri Sokolov tips his chin upward. Anger streams off him. Igor is visibly conflicted as he leaves my office. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to keep his dignity intact.
Once the door closes and we’re alone again, Roman, Peter, and Ivan seem to exhale in sync.
“Shit,” Peter utters, putting the safety back on.
I motion for Ivan to get us something to drink. A few shots of vodka are exactly what I need to soothe my frayed nerves.
“This was intense,” Roman comments.
Ivan hands me my glass. I raise it in a toast.
“To surviving one more day,” I say with a wicked smile.
Roman, Peter, and Ivan laugh. It could be either from nervousness or delight, but it doesn’t matter. I down the shot and pour another one.
It’s a celebratory drink.
I’ve pushed Dimitri to the brink. He won’t disobey me, and while we stand on opposite sides, there’s not much he can do.
“To your upcoming wedding,” Roman says, raising his glass up.
“To my wedding,” I say, a smile forming on my lips as my boys clink and wish me luck.
Katarina definitely knows how to keep me on my toes. I expect that our next meeting will be quite eventful.
And I’ll enjoy every single minute of it.
