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“Why?” Tatiana tilts her head. “Because every other deal within our family is shady? Because there’s no good blood in the Russian Mafia?” She snorts softly. “You’re not the only one in the construction business, and I’d rather we help one another rather than give that money to someone like the Italians.”
My eyes narrow. There’s something more. Something she isn’t saying, so I remain quiet.
Tatiana glances between myself and Faina, then sighs. “Woman to woman?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’m a mother now. And I know having a child shouldn’t be the reason my moral compass shifted, but frankly, it was. I see the world differently now. Knowing the blood that coats the money we all make is hard to stomach each night I look into my baby's eyes. I want her to grow up in a world that isn’t going to hurt her. I don’t want her to risk being sold off somewhere becausesomeone wants to make a play for power. I want to build beneficial alliances with people who share my values so that my kids will face a decent future.”
“Are you sure Ivan is the family head?” Faina chuckles softly. “I can’t imagine it that way now.”
“We’re a team,” Tatiana replies. “We both know where our strength shines.”
Her words are powerful, and from the way her voice trembles faintly when talking about her children, I know this is important to her. And having Tatiana drip-feed us clients would not only boost my own income, but it would remove the hassle of bidding on projects. She’s handing me clients on a silver platter while I funnel payment plans through her loan companies.
It’s a really good deal, but I can’t appear too eager.
“Oh, and everyone in that booklet?” She points with one delicately manicured finger. “They’re already lined up and waiting.”
I glance up at Erik, and even he looks impressed. Our gazes lock for a brief moment, then I stand and hold out my hand to Tatiana. “Thank you for coming here today. I can’t give you an answer right now, but if I can have some time to think it over?”
“Of course.” Tatiana smiles. She stands and grasps my hand with warmth. “Take your time.”
“Thank you. Will I see you at the gala?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
21
ERIK
Tatiana’s turning up at the dress shop a few days ago with such an incredible offer feels too good to be true. Perhaps it’s my natural suspicion about anyone around Anastasia, given everything she’s been through, but I can’t help but feel there’s something I’m missing.
So in the days between that meeting and today, I investigated. I dug as deep as I could into their history and found that while the Yegorov family is similar to the Remizova family, they seem clean. As clean as one can be in our type of life. They’ve quietly kept to themselves, never stepped out of their lane, and other than some trouble about a marriage some ten years ago, there’s nothing to justify my suspicion.
Maybe this is a good thing. A real good thing born from Anastasia’s work to change the direction of the Russian Bratva. After all, without her decisions to do what she’s been doing, Tatiana never would have approached her.
This offer is legit.
With the result of my investigation rumbling around my mind, I seek out Anastasia in her office where she’s bent over her desk fiddling with the back of her monitor.
“IT troubles?” I say, closing the door behind me.
“Yes,” she sighs, slightly strained. “Why do we not have a tech adviser on hand or something? Is that something we should have?”
“Closest we have is the weapons expert.” I chuckle, approaching her desk. “What’s wrong?”
“I was working away fine and then this monitor just randomly turned off. I can technically get all my shit done on the other monitor, but…” She peers up at me through the curtain of her hair with a slight pout. “I like having two.”
“Want me to take a look?”
She slides back from the desk and sighs, pushing her hair away from her face. “Be my guest.”
Adjusting the back of the monitor to face me, I start pulling out the cables to test how each of them feels. It has power, but the display is dead.
“Did you find out anything about Tatiana and her family?” Anastasia drops into her chair and reclines back.
“Nothing that we don’t already know,” I reply. “She’s clean. She had some complications with her pregnancy, so that might have spurred her onto the path of good morals, but there are no skeletons in her closet that are a threat to us. If anything, she’s taking the risk since the Cartel are on our backs.”