Uri’s gaze hasn’t once veered to any of the other tables. Maybe he’s just being a gentleman and focusing his attention on me. But I have a feeling it’s more than that. It feels like a power move. I’m way too important to be interested in any of you.
Uri shrugs. “Some are vors; some are business colleagues; some are simply acquaintances.”
“You’re telling me that everyone here is connected to—” I lean in and pull my voice down to a whisper. “—the mob?”
He glowers at me. “The Bratva,” he says haughtily. “It’s a totally different beast.”
“Oh, for God’s sake. Every bad guy likes to think they’re the first to ever do it. You all break laws, sell drugs, make a bunch of money in all kinds of illegal ways. So tell me the difference.”
He leans in towards me with an irresistible grin on his face
