Page 112 of Devious Corruption

All of this fucking mess because he wants to stretch his grip outside of his reach. Wanting more than he deserves, more than he could protect even ifhe were to gain the territory Tony promises. Even if I were to look the other way, let the Armenians move their weapons through my city, it would only be a short time before another group came to take it from them.

They need my protection. And it will cost them.

“Lev Yakovlev.” Vartan taps his cigar against the edge of the thick crystal ashtray before him, leaving it there while he stands to greet us.

I grip his outstretched hand firmly. He tries to match my strength, but he doesn’t come close. “Vartan.”

“Come, sit. What do you want to drink?” He waves his hand at the bar situated in the corner of the room.

The Magnolia Manor, a small American restaurant on the outskirts of the city, has given us one of their private rooms for our meeting. One of each of our men stands outside the door, while our highest-ranking men are inside with us.

“This will be a quick meeting,” I say, taking a seat at the table. Vas sits beside me and two more of my men stand behind us. Vartan has the same set up on his side.

“What do you want?”

“You’ve been trying to move into my city, moving your shit through my streets and using my distribution channels,” I say firmly.

“I heard you came into possession of one of my weapons. I can understand why you’d think such things. But you know how clumsy stupid men can be, leaving their guns around where they shouldn’t be.”

My jaw clicks. Lying only makes me want his tongue on a platter.

“I also heard your woman was arrested while in possession of one of my weapons. Did she give you this information, that I’m trying to take over your territory?” He wiggles his fingers in the air, a piss poor attempt at air quotes.

Putting a bullet in his fucking head would ease my temper, but it would start an entirely new war. And there’s already enough of that going around.

“The DeAngelos promised you a foothold in my territory if you joined with them against us; is that right?” I keep my voice low, cutting through the room like a knife.

Vartan doesn’t answer, but the flicker in his eyes confirms it.

“They promised you port access, trucks, routes. Promised you’d make millions moving your weapons through my city with their blessing. They needed your help to get rid of us Russians.”

“You speak like you know things,” Vartan says, leaning back in his chair.

I open my phone to the information Vas transferred over.

“I know lots of things, Vartan.” I slide my finger across the screen, showing the photographs, documents, emails, text messages all spill out in front of him. “Like you’re being double crossed.”

Heat flashes in his eyes, but he tries to cover it with a sigh. “You’re talking out of your ass.”

“Look for yourself.” I lean over the table, sliding photographs out of the way until I find the one I want. “Tony meeting with Milo Brankovich.”

I push the photograph toward him.

His brows raise as he picks it up.

“All their promises, but they didn’t tell you they were making the same guarantees to Milo.”

Vartan picks up the photograph, examining it closely. “How do I know you didn’t create this photo?”

“Does it matter?” I roll my shoulders back. “I don’t give a fuck who you do business with, so long as it stays out of my backyard.” “Let me perfectly clear here, Vartan. You bring arms through my territory without my permission, and I will choke your supply chain until you beg me to end it. Not one bullet, not one clip will make it through any port in this country without my say. I’ll bury your profits six feet under.” I lower my gaze to line up with his. “And if there’s any sort of retaliation from you, I’ll put you there next.”

The room falls silent. Vartan’s eyes flick from the photo to where my hand presses against the other papers.

From the corner behind him one of his men mutters something in Armenian. It’s nothing, a complaint about what a waste of time this is. I let it pass.

“You want me to ask for permission?” His lips thin.

“Without my backing, you’ll never move anything in any part of this country.” I crumple a piece of paper in my fist. “And my reach goes overseas, too. You’ll be locked out of ports all over the world.”