A slap in the face would be less insulting. If I didn’t mind being a hypocrite, I’d kill Belov where he sits.
“This is the Mikhailov Bratva we are discussing, Leo,” Belov says. “We are the strongest, best-connected organization in the country. No one has or will ever get an offer like this again. Imagine the strength of the Solovevs combined with the strength of the Mikhailovs. It’s a very generous offer, I must say..”
“It’s a f*****g joke,” I snap bluntly. “You can’t have imagined I’d take it seriously.”
His eyes grow cold. “I assumed you were smart enough to see the opportunity here.”
“There’s no opportunity,” I tell him. “There’s only the promise of blood.”
“I am second to no man. There will be no alliance, Belov.” I start to leave but stop. “And when you address me in the future,
