Page 81 of Accidental Mile High Vows

24

LEDGER

Mason’s breakdownis still trending online when Silas walks into my office with a new problem.

“The Petrov family is moving product through your territory.”

I look up from the contracts I’m reviewing. “Excuse me?”

“Drug shipments. Running through the docks in Red Hook. That’s your distribution zone, and they’re operating without permission.” Silas sets down a folder with photos. Shipping manifests. Surveillance shots of men I don’t recognize unloading containers.

I flip through the evidence, anger building with each page. “How long has this been going on?”

“At least three weeks. Maybe longer.”

“And you’re just telling me now?”

“We only confirmed it yesterday. Wanted to be sure before bringing it to you.”

The Petrovs. A smaller Bratva family, based in Brooklyn, smart enough to stay out of my way. Until now.

“Get Matteo Petrov on the phone. Tell him we need to meet.”

“You want to go to war over this?”

“I want to remind him whose territory he’s operating in.” I close the folder. “But we do it smart. No bloodshed unless absolutely necessary.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“The Children’s Hospital Gala. Next Saturday. It’s neutral ground, public enough that everyone has to behave. Invite the Petrovs. Make it clear this is a business meeting, not a social call.”

Silas nods. “You taking Savannah?”

“Of course. She’s good at this. And the Petrov wives will be there. She can keep them occupied while I handle their husbands.”

“You’re using your pregnant wife as a distraction at a Bratva negotiation?”

“I’m bringing my wife to a charity event where I happen to be conducting business.” I lean back in my chair. “And yes, she’ll distract them. She’s brilliant at it. Get Matteo on the phone.”

I find Savannah in her office, working through marketing reports with the kind of focus that makes her forget to eat lunch.

“We have plans Saturday night,” I say from the doorway.

She looks up, pushing her glasses up her nose. I didn’t even know she wore glasses until she started working from home. Another detail I’m collecting about her.

“What kind of plans?”

“A charity gala. For the Children’s Hospital. Very fancy, very public, very important.”

“Okay. What’s the real reason we’re going?”

“Can’t I just want to take my wife to a nice event?”

“You can. But you don’t.” She spins her chair to face me fully. “What’s really going on?”

This is why I love her. She sees through every layer I put up.

“There’s a territorial dispute. Another family is operating in my distribution zone without permission. The gala is neutral ground for negotiations.”