Page 28 of Twisted Proposal

Kostya called him a mafia jack-in-the-box once, and although the comparison was funny, there was truth to that. I needed to defuse that bomb fast.

"No one wants that to happen," I said. "It is far easier and more effective to keep the current perception in place than it is to rebuild it while protecting our own."

"What exactly are you suggesting?" Gregor said between gritted teeth, each word a bullet.

I suppressed a grin and enjoyed the warm feeling of victory in my veins.

Gregor knew I was winning and that by the time I had Solovyov under my boot I would also have a piece of the new world in my pocket.

Damien pulled out a flask and took a shot of scotch from it like a heathen, no doubt trying to dull the rage.

"I suggest we stay here for the time being. We handle Solovyov and the issues he is presenting. You and your men keep the day to day. I know you have deals in the works with a few senators and military contracts. Keep them. Build our empire while I protect our name."

"And what do you want for this act of kindness?" Gregor's eyes narrowed to slits.

What I wanted was to take everything from Chicago west.

I wanted to run the ports on the West Coast, the guns that came from Mexico and Russia, and whatever else I could sink my teeth into. Moscow was just not as profitable as it had once been, but the potential here was untapped.

Not to mention, my background in building and running missile guidance systems would be very beneficial to grow Gregor's current military schemes into many, many more.

"Protecting one's family is not an act of kindness. It's an act of survival."

Gregor pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed, and took a deep breath.

He knew I wanted more.

He also knew I wasn't going to just say it.

Not until the most opportune time.

If I were to lay all my cards out on the table now, he could reject them. He could send me and my brothers packing before we got the foothold that we needed.

I wouldn't let that happen.

Moving around the room, a glint of gold caught my attention. There was a sitting area on the other side of the conference room with leather-backed armchairs and a small table between them, which held a chess set. Black and gold, more than likely hand-carved marble.

How appropriate.

This was absolutely a game of chess, but with well over two players.

The only question was, would Gregor willingly give up a few squares of territory to protect his queen?

Gregor moved over to the long china cabinet on the side of the room and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He shot it back in a single gulp, the crystal tumbler slamming back onto the polished wood.

Yeah, he knew I had him.

He knew that accepting my help would come with an eventual cost, and that cost was going to hurt. It wouldn't hurt nearly as much as refusing my help and then failing to do the job himself.

"My wife has not made me weak. If anything, I am far stronger because of her. Because now I have something to fight for, something that matters more than honor or respect."

I bit into the inside of my cheek to stop myself from reacting.

We never fought for honor or respect. We demanded honor and respect, but fought for power, for control. Honor and respect were side benefits, just like the money and the influence were.

"So then, what do you fight for?" I asked, my question more of a challenge.

"I fight for her. My entire empire now is for her. To protect her, to provide for her and give her absolutely anything her heart desires. I won't allow anyone to threaten her or my child’s security." His words were carved from granite, unyielding and cold.