Page 2 of Mafia King

“Con. It would mean placing our trust in Maxim to maintain the agreed border with his territory,” Nikolai says.

“Pro. We could push our men into the north harbor, go to war there if necessary,” Xander says, his eyes lighting up at the thought.

“Con. It would tell the other families that we can be negotiated with.”

“Does that have to be a bad thing?” Xander asks. “I’m not questioning your judgement but if we show the other families that we can work with them, on the right terms of course, then doesn’t that mean we could work toward a time of peace?”

Kave takes a moment to consider what Xander is saying. He sips on his vodka and reaches over to pour himself a refill. It’s true that living in a time of peace across the city would bring its advantages.

But…

“I’ve never known peace,” Nikolai says. “All I’ve seen is fake treaties. Peace deals set up to fail. Agreements between families that inevitably collapse and end in more death, more destruction, and less stability than before.”

“Yeah, and the fact that you’ve never compromised with anyone…”

“Ha. That’s true,” Nikolai says. “You’re also lucky I like you.”

“You know I’ll always tell it like I see it, pakhan,” Xander says. “I went through too much with my own family to suddenly start telling people what they want to hear now at the ripe old age of thirty-eight.”

“Indeed,” Nikolai smiles. “Maybe you’ve got a point. I haven’t gone into any kind of deal with anyone before. I guess maybe because no one’s ever asked. Or perhaps because I’ve always dealt with anyone who got in my way?”

Xander nods and casts his eyes toward the bar’s entrance. A pair of boys walk in, already tipsy, clearly not quite understanding what kind of bar they just walked into…

“Shall I handle them?”

“No, let them stay,” Nikolai says. “Not everyone who frequents this little place of ours needs to be knees deep in the underworld. Hell, they might even turn out to be recruits. Stranger things have happened.”

“Yeah, I doubt that,” Xander chuckles, the levity of the situation hitting him as he and Nikolai watch the two boys stumble toward the bar and almost collapse into it.

“Hmmm. I think you were right,” Nikolai says. “Give them a helpful redirection toward the exit. Go easy, but make sure they know this place isn’t quite right for them this evening.”

“As you wish, boss,” Xander says.

And just like that, Xander gets up from the table and firmly but fairly escorts the drunken partygoers out of the bar.

Nikolai watches the boys leave. But his mind is elsewhere.

Maxim Kovalev doesn’t make offers of territory deals and cooperation over resources readily. Clearly, it’s something that he has taken his time over and means business with.

But Nikolai knows that Maxim is ruthless, rich, and didn’t climb to the top of his clan without slicing and dicing a few foes. Nikolai leans back in his comfortable leather chair and swirls the ice cube around his glass. He has options, choices, the kind of decisions to make that could shape not only how the city is carved up moving forward, but maybe even decide just how long he has left as a Bratva king.

To trust.

To kill.

Or wait and lay a trap…

Nikolai shuts his townhouse door behind him and without thinking triple-locks it and presses a small red button to bring across the final layer of protection, a heavy metal barricade.

“Pffft. I survived for years with a door so rotten a child could kick it down,” Nikolai laughs, shaking his head in mock dismay at how safety conscious he had become.

Safety conscious or… maybe just paranoid.

Nikolai walks through the high-ceilinged hallway and into the vast space that is his kitchen.

“Glass of water. Slice of sourdough with Himalayan salt. Two magnesium tablets.”

Nikolai moves around the kitchen’s large oak island and picks out everything he needs for his pre-bed routine. It might be 2:00AM but Nikolai isn’t going to rush to get to sleep if that means breaking away from his tried and trusted system.