“Artur, good to see you again, brother.” He walked in, wearing a wide grin.
“Likewise, Anatoli,” I replied, rising to shake his stretched-out hand. “Please, take a seat.”
He sank into the chair across my table, fingers undoing the button of his jacket. Leaning back, he crossed his legs with his gaze on me.
“To what do I owe this visit?”
“Come on, is it a crime to drop by to see an old friend?”
I reclined in my chair. “Cut to the chase, Anatoli. Why are you really here?”
He chuckled. “At least pour me a glass of vodka first.” His eyes flicked toward the half-empty bottle on my table. “You know what? Never mind. I’ll get it myself.”
I watched him lean in and grab the bottle.
“I hear you have a Rocco problem on your hands.” He poured himself a glass, eyes fixed on the bottle. “I also hear the Bratva isn’t really willing to help.”
Silence.
I sat there, observing, paying attention to his body movements. Just in case there’s something fishy beneath the surface.
“What else did you hear?” I indulged him.
“That you’ve grown soft,” he answered, swirling the drink in his hand. “And that Rocco’s three steps ahead of you.”
Again, I said nothing.
He sipped from his glass. “Hmm. Neat.”
“Why are you here, Anatoli?” I stared at him, a hint of suspicion flickering in my eyes.
“To help.”
My silence was his cue to elaborate further.
He continued, “I hate that son of a bitch as much as you do. I’ve always wanted to take him down after what he did.” His expression turned cold in an instant.
Anatoli had unfinished business with Rocco, and everyone in the criminal underworld knew about their history.
Two years ago, Rocco’s cousin, Matteo, had raped and impregnated Anatoli’s niece. She was just a kid at the time, a minor. Not more than fourteen years old. Yet that animal had forced himself on her and gotten her pregnant.
Because of Rocco’s influence, Matteo walked free, and Anatoli’s niece was denied justice. Depressed and ashamed of her condition, she took her own life soon after.
Ever since then, Anatoli hated the Romano family and had been looking for the right opportunity to make them pay.
He uncrossed his legs and placed his hands on the table between us. “That bastard is our mutual enemy. And as we speak, he’s recruiting more powerful people on his side. I say we join forces and take him down for good.”
I drummed my fingers on my table, watching the anger in his eyes burn like fire. “Do you have a plan?”
His lips curved into a mischievous grin. “Matter of fact, I do.” He leaned back into his chair. “But I’m afraid you might not like it.”
My brows knitted together in a mix of bewilderment and suspicion. “Why is that?”
He hesitated, fingers scratching his forehead. “Because it, uh…it involves Sergei Smirnov.”
My face twisted into a frown, and I balled a fist in both hands.
Sergei and I had history. One so bad that I’d vowed to put a bullet in his head next time I saw him.