Page 66 of His Forced Bride

I keep him waiting twenty minutes.

Respect isn't given in our world.

It's extracted through power, timing, and the careful application of pressure.

When I finally enter the room, Kozlov sits at the oak table with his hands folded, studying the maps of shipping routes that cover the walls.

"You're late," he says without turning.

"You're early."

He faces me, and I notice things Kirill's intelligence reports missed—the puckered scar running from his left ear to his jaw, the thick gold ring on his right hand engraved with Cyrillic letters, the way his pale eyes move constantly, like a weasel looking for an escape route.

"We have business to discuss," he grumbles while he folds his fingers neatly on the table in front of him.

I pour myself vodka from the bottle on the side table.

"We have nothing to discuss."

"Your son thought differently."

I flick a glance up at him.

More than a week after his death and it still hasn’t hit me yet.

I'm sure it'll catch up to me soon, and the rage I've bottled up will unleash on some unsuspecting victim.

But for now, all I can manage is, "My son is gone."

"But his agreements remain."

Kozlov reaches into his jacket and takes out a slip of paper which I'm sure has some sort of notoriety, but I have no intention of honoring it.

I don't touch the paper.

I barely look at it.

"I didn't authorize any agreements."

"Dominic had authority to act for your family."

"Dominic had authority to breathe. That ended when someone put a bullet in his head."

The vodka burns going down, and I pour another glass before turning to face him fully.

Kozlov's mouth curves into a sinister smile on a face incapable of soft expression.

"Then you're prepared to honor his commitments."

"I'm prepared to discuss why you think burning down my wife's warehouses will motivate me to complete deals I never approved."

The temperature in the room drops.

Kozlov's pale eyes narrow, and for a moment I see the predator beneath the businessman's façade.

"Your wife's business interests are unfortunate casualties of a larger conflict."

"My wife's business interests are mine now. Attack them again, and you'll discover how unfortunate your own interests become."