My body moves without permission, closing the distance between us until a sudden, violent eruption at my feet stops me short.
Debris sprays across my skin as the sound of the blast echoes, leaving me standing rigid, unable to draw a single breath into my tightened chest. I barely have time to register the fear before Dato hooks a hand around my arm and yanks me into him, his fingers digging into my skin with a bruising, desperate force.
“Oops.” Dato’s voice comes out amused. “Told you not to do anything stupid.”
The next gunshot comes from Alexei’s direction, so fast I barely see him draw. Dato staggers, clutching his shoulder where red spreads rapidly through the fabric of his jacket, his hand releasing me.
“That was a warning.” Alexei’s voice carries no emotion at all. “Put your hands on my wife one more time, and the next roundgoes straight through your fucking throat. I don’t miss, Dato. Ever.”
Despite the bullet wound, Dato manages to smile, blood seeping between his fingers. “Jesus. She must have magical pussy or something for you to lose your shit over a hand grab.” He lets the silence stretch, enjoying it. “Wonder how you’d react if you found out…” The words cut off, leaving everything unsaid.
An eyebrow goes up on Alexei’s face, the only movement he makes before his eyes cut to me, holding there with an unreadable quality that turns my blood cold.
“Christ, fine,” Dato says, pain edging his voice despite his attempt at control. “Can we negotiate now?”
Several men converge on Dato at once, supporting his weight as they get him seated, one already retrieving gauze and antiseptic to address the shoulder where the bullet entered.
“This time I won’t push you.” Dato manages through the pain, gesturing vaguely toward an empty chair. “Go ahead and sit, Zoya.”
“Before we start anything resembling a peaceful negotiation,” Alexei says, his gaze shifting to me, “I need to know something.” His voice softens just slightly. “Zoya. Are you hurt? Tell me. Even psychologically.”
“She’s fine,” Dato interjects. “I already told you…”
“I wasn’t asking you.” The words cut through the air like a blade. Dato’s smile falters.
I meet Alexei’s gaze directly, seeing him clearly for the first time since entering. Those brown eyes carry warmth now when they’re on me, fire hidden below. “I’m not hurt,” I say, my voice coming out steady. “He didn’t touch me. Not like that.”
“But he touched you.”
My mind goes to his hands tangling through my hair, gripping my face, his voice too close to my ear, how every contact made revulsion spread through me.
“He didn’t touch me,” I repeat.
Alexei holds my gaze for another moment, then nods. He turns back to Dato. “Alright. We can proceed.” He leans back in his chair. “State your terms.”
Dato settles into his seat, regaining some of his composure. “I want access to your Polish port corridor for one week unsupervised.”
“No. Not possible.”
“Why not? It’s only for a week.”
“Pick something else.”
“There is nothing else I want.” Dato leans forward. “That corridor is the only leverage I care about. One week of access would let me establish connections that would take months to build otherwise.”
“This is neutral ground, Romanov,” Dato continues when Alexei doesn’t respond. “And you know one thing about neutral ground? One day, somebody is going to take it.”
Alexei’s expression doesn’t change. “Don’t overstep regarding my power, Dato. I lack kindness. I lack forgiveness. Revenge though? I excel at that. Consider it recreational.” He waits. “Your family assassinated the last Pakhan. Fortunately, your uncle’s already gone. Erasing entire bloodlines doesn’t bother me. Don’t discover my patience threshold.”
Nobody speaks after that, the threat palpable.
“Let me explain something to you, Dato,” Alexei continues, his voice dropping lower. “Something your father understood but clearly failed to teach you. Killing you would be inconvenient. Not impossible. Inconvenient.” He stands, and somehow, he seems like the most dangerous thing in the room. “A war with the Georgians would disrupt my operations, cost me money, and require attention I’d rather spend elsewhere. But inconvenience has limits.”
“Threats,” Dato says, though his voice isn’t as bold as before. “All I’m hearing is threats.”
“Then let me be specific.” Alexei walks around the table. “Your brother. Stanislav. The soft one. The one with a conscience.” He stops beside Dato’s chair. “I’ll start with him. I sure as hell will enjoy making you watch.” His smile is predatory. “I bet he’s a pain junkie. Or wait. Maybe he can’t handle pain. Is that why you don’t involve him in the business?”
Dato’s fingers clench the chair arms, shaking visibly.