Page 27 of Twisted Proposal

"As I am sure you know, I don't believe this to be true. But the truth hardly matters in situations like this. Perception is far more potent. Even at this moment, a sniper could stare down his sights, looking to take aim and take me out. But I know he's not."

"Crystal ball?" Damien asked, his mouth twisting into a sneer.

"It's because I'm in the room, not on a roof," Mikhail said under his breath.

Gregor shot him a look that was enough of a reprimand. Although that he felt comfortable enough to speak like that in the first place proved my point.

"No, my reputation keeps me safe. They fear the Ivanov name more than they fear a single entity. That keeps every man in this room, and those who we have given our name to, safe. Solovyov has brought that into question. Using your wife to do it."

"Get to the point," Gregor demanded. His patience was wearing thin, but he would show me the respect my position demanded.

"My point,dear cousin, is that Solovyov's bullshit puts us all at risk. It isn't about dealing with one man and his family. It's about not allowing him to win a single battle in this war. He's not stupid or weak. He knows we’ve caught on to his plans, and I'm sure by now he knows that his little Trojan horse has been put down. Solovyov won't stop, and he will diversify his attacks. Soon he won't just be sending men to DC, he will look for another seat of power to take from you."

"He can try," Mikhail said dismissively, rolling a toothpick between his teeth.

"Tell me, when was the last time any of you have been to Chicago? What happens if Solovyov strikes there? How will you respond? Or what if he goes after the ports in Seattle or California? Can you drop everything on a dime to see to it while maintaining current operations here?"

"He can't?—"

"He can and he will." My fist crashed against the table. "Solovyov has resources. We may think of him as a bloated old fuck whose name is diminished in Russia, but he is still the head of his family. We can't afford to underestimate him."

"We can handle?—"

"Yes, you can," I said, cutting off Damien. "But at what cost? If he lands even a single hit, then we are done. Yes, we will triumph over Solovyov, but the rest of the world would have seen the hit. If we bleed, the sharks will come."

"Then we will deal with the sharks." Gregor stood to look me in the eye, his gaze unyielding.

"But how many? And at what cost? If they see us as weak, they'll come for us. The Colombians, the Yakuza, the cartels. They will all come to claim a part of this country. Right now, we have a truce with all of them. We have an understanding that depends upon a very delicate balance. If the balance shifts, they will try to take us down."

"I think—" Damien interrupted.

"I think you forget that the Colombians are already pissed and just need an excuse. They have agreed to terms, for now. But they still want your head."

I stared Damien down, reminding him of what he did to get his wife to safety. It was the right move, but that didn't mean there still wasn't a cost that we all had to pay.

"I could use a fight." Mikhail shrugged, and Gregor and Damien laughed.

Even Pavel and Kostya were pressing their lips together, trying not to join in the laughter.

"This won't be a fight, Mikhail. It will be a bloody war." My voice dropped to a lethal register. "One we may very well win, but at what cost? If we are at war because they think we are weak, then the Ivanov name will not protect your women."

That shut them up. The room went so silent I could hear the ice melting in Damien's glass.

"What a trophy Samara would make to the Yakuza, and the other Russians would do horrible things to Nadia as the Ivanov princess. And how many families would fight to get their hands on Yelena and her horse-betting scheme?"

I let the question hang in the air.

The three men that were laughing before were now grim-faced, pale beneath their tans.

Damien tightened his fist on the table until his knuckles blanched white.

Mikhail's fingers rubbed together like he was itching to pull his weapon.

Gregor sat there like stone. If it wasn't for the vein pulsing in his neck, I would have thought he hadn’t heard me.

I had always admired how tightly he held on to his rage.

He let it build and build until the explosion was large enough to destroy everyone in his path. There was really no way to tell when the explosion would happen.