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It was one of the reasons Lev liked him. He was diligent to a fault. Like now. When he just wanted to sit back and enjoy the view, the diligent one didn’t fail to remind him that they had work to attend to.
The redhead stuck her face between his neck, whined her hips more slowly, intentionally grinding his cock in tune to the beat, and moaned when she seized the opportunity to plant a kiss on his neck above the collar of his dress shirt.
Konstantin raised a brow and begrudgingly, Lev shared in his concern. The dancer was becoming a porn star rather too quickly. And that was going to defeat the purpose of the closed-door meeting. Lev leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “We’ll continue this session some other time, sweetheart. You can go now.”
Message passed loud and clear:I can’t fuck you right now.
It's a good thing she got it, even though so regrettably. She pulled back with a naughty pout, readjusted her thong and lacy bra, and dragged her feet on the soft carpet to the door. After the door clicked shut, Lev faced a poker-faced Kostya, who was trying so hard not to betray the stoic emotions on his face.
He motioned toward the door with one nod of his head. “That’s beginning to happen a lot more often, don’t you think?”
“I’d be blind if I say I haven’t noticed how frequently these girls keep throwing themselves at me. It must be that they talk amongst themselves. But I’m not going to lie and say I don’t enjoy it. I fucking do, thank you very much.”
Konstantin said nothing. Just a brief “hmm” and the gentle tap of his leather shoes muffled on the carpet. “With what’s going on now, anything can happen. Could be used as a weapon targeted at you, these girls.”
Lev snorted and took a swig from the bottle. He regretted it instantly. This time, he didn’t bother holding back. He sputtered and coughed out his lungs, teary-eyed and clutching his chest as he returned the bottle to the table. “Christ!” he wheezed and pointed. “What the fuck is that?”
Surprisingly, the big guy laughed and scratched his neck. “Polmos Spirytus Rektyfikowany.”
“What?” He coughed again. “That cannot even be a fucking real thing.”
“It sure is.” Konstantin nodded his head. “Contains ninety-six percent alcohol. It leaves you feeling like you got punched straight in the fucking gut.”
He laughed but Lev’s amusement had reduced drastically. He stared daggers at the bottle. “Should be taken out of the fucking market then. Jesus.” He patted his chest and rearranged his jacket behind him. “For the first time, I’ve considered diluting alcohol with water. Now, if that was to be used as a weapon against me, it could probably work.Probably.But the women? Fuck, no. I’m not dying a second later, Kostya. Neither of us are.”
Gone was the merry expression, now replaced with drawn brows and lips turned upside down. “Not now, Boss. But if we continue to procrastinate and ignore the warning signs, they are bound to have the upper hand. Cillian’s not sleeping, so neither should we. The weapon might not be the weapon, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t planning something devious, as always.”
Lev knew Konstantin was speaking fact. The more they delayed, the more advantage Cillian had.
Following the death of Dostoevsky, a new rival and ally of the late mafia boss swiftly rose in the Irish Mafia and had been threatening to wreak havoc on the Bratva ever since. The first point of action Lev should have taken would have been to alert his oldest brother, Mikhail. Mikhail would have known what to do and how to cut Cillian Moore from the roots.
But no.
Mikhail had made the decision to focus on taking care of his family and newly born twin babies and left him temporarily in charge of everything because he trusted him to handle matters when they arose. How, then, would it appear if Lev ran back to him, seeking help at the slightest mention of Cillian’s name?
No.
As much as he hated being in the spotlight, running things, he was no fucking pussy.
If Mikhail believed he could take care of things, then he could. End of discussion. He was going to deal with Cillian fucking Moore.
Lev stroked his beardless chin and shrugged. “So, what do you suggest we do?”
“What you said we would do from the beginning; involve the others. We need time on our side and more heads in on this. We have more geniuses than we could count and men pre-trained for war. A meeting with the others, from all the fractions we could possibly involve, would yield something useful.”
“That’s what you think?”
“It is what I know, Boss.” Konstantin had never sounded surer of anything else. He tilted closer and gesticulated while carrying on with the explanations. “I know there is no concrete proof yet, but I’ve heard the rumors. We’ve all heard the rumors; Cillian is planning something. That’s why we suspect that he’s out for the Bratva, even if there’s no excuse to start a war yet.”
Lev was thinking. He played with the ring on his finger and looked absentmindedly at the bottle on the table. “What if word gets to Mikhail in the process? You know, we will be involving others. So, what’s the guarantee that they will be discreet?”
“You.”
That caught his attention. He arched a brow, turning to Konstantin. “Me?”
“Yes.” The big guy leaned back on the sofa with a smile that screamed over-confidence. “Just like they do your brothers, the men equally fear and respect you. If you wish for thisoperation to be conducted discreetly, we’ll do that. And even if, or when word gets to your brothers, they’ll be pleased to know you’re taking charge really well.”
Lev smiled and felt the tension roll off his shoulders. He grinned and sat straight, looking Konstantin in the eyes. “Very well then. Keep an eye on Moore and tell the men to keep their distance. They should stay away from his path. We don’t want anyone blowing our cover.”
