“We will bring them in, not make enemies with them.” I push the first piece of sugar. “If the Irish attack the Italians, even indirectly…” I pause for dramatic effect then jostle the cup causing the second piece of sugar to fall with a small plopping sound. “They will have no choice but to defend their territories and their honor.”
“Do you suggest we betray our biggest allies?” Kirill stares at me as if I murdered a member of his family.
“I’m suggesting we don’t take the hit when the Irish attack. If we lure them to the Italian territories, the chess pieces will take care of themselves. We can go and help after the damage is done.”
“That way, we can reinforce our relationship with the Italians while dragging them into war with us,” Vlad explains.
“Exactly.” I push my coffee away because there’s no way in hell I’ll drink it now that it has so much sugar in it.
Igor, Adrian, and Damien remain silent, but Mikhail clears his throat and Kirill makes a face. They know I’m right and my plan is the best we have, but their male egos don’t like the fact that a woman outsmarted them.
“Igor.” Sergei speaks, and everyone at the table pays attention—including Adrian. “Work on getting as much manpower as possible from the Triads and the Japanese. Kirill and Mikhail, protect the territories, including the shared ones. We never know where they will hit next. Adrian, keep negotiating with the Italians.”
For a second, I think he completely disregarded my plan. After all, he still wants Adrian to play nice with the Italians.
But then, my granduncle fixes his eyes on Vlad. “Use our spy in the Irish territories to figure out where they’re going to hit next, and then, lure the Italians.”
“Yes, Vor,” the men say, and I sit up straighter in my chair. This is the first time Sergei has ever taken my suggestion seriously. Ever since I proved my worth in V Corp by snatching one deal after another, Sergei doesn’t see me as Nikolai Sokolov’s spoiled granddaughter whom he shouldn’t have allowed into the brotherhood’s meetings.
Damien raises a hand like an attention-seeking kid in class. “Umm, hello? What about me?”
“You stay put and protect your territory.” Sergei looks at him with his light green eyes. He might have always come second compared to Dedushka, but Sergei has a wise quality to him that he gained over the years he stood by my grandfather’s side. He knows what he’s doing, and he’s never allowed his sickness to get in the way of leading the brotherhood.
“Come on, Pakhan, I can do something,” Damien argues.
“And make it worse,” Igor mutters.
Damien clicks his tongue at him. He has no such thing as respect for the seniors in the Vory. He has his way and his crazy super weird vision, and it seems that’s the only thing he needs.
“If you lose one of your territories, it would be cut off from your brigade, Orlov,” Sergei addresses Damien by his last name. “Am I making myself clear?”
“Crystal,” Damien mutters.
“Rai.” My granduncle’s attention turns to me.
“Yes?”
“You will funnel the necessary finances to any brigade that has a shortage.”
“I will only do that after I see their numbers.”
“You won’t see my fucking numbers.” Mikhail is the first to protest.
I smile sweetly at him. “Then you won’t get a single dime from V Corp.”
“You don’t own V Corp.”
“And neither do you. I will not be giving away money like candy. I need the accountability report to know everyone’s needs, and I expect everyone to return the funds as soon as you’re bringing in profit again. V Corp is not your one-way bank.”
“And if we don’t?” Kirill raises a brow.
“Simple. The difference will be cut off from your company shares. You’re not the only shareholders in V Corp I need to worry about. The money isn’t yours to confiscate any time and without repercussions.”
“Pakhan?” Igor cuts Mikhail off before he can most likely curse me.
“You will all provide V Corp with numbers so every brigade is treated equally,” Sergei says. “We will talk about returning the funds at a later date.”
I stare at Granduncle, but he already issued his order and he won’t go back on it. The asshole Mikhail smiles at me like a petty child with issues.
I’m fuming on the inside, but I keep my uptight position on the outside.
“Now that we agree on that, we will move to the next topic.” Sergei clears his throat to get everyone’s attention. “I served the brotherhood with my life, sweat, and blood, just like you. But as everyone knows, I’m getting old. There will be a time where I will have to step down as Pakhan.”
I swallow as the weight of his words falls on me. Is this why everyone is here, Adrian included? Sergei isn’t possibly planning to tell them about his cancer, right?
“I have decided that the future Pakhan will be a member of the elite group. I will consider everyone carefully for the next few months, and when it’s time to choose someone, it will be one of you.”
They straighten in their seats, the greed for power filling some of their eyes. The fire burning inside me threatens to spill like a volcano ready to eradicate anything in its path.
I can’t believe Sergei is giving away the family legacy to these wolves so easily.
“However, I want my daughter married into one of your families. Consider it a blessing in advance.”
Mikhail moves in his seat, ready to suggest his asshole sons, but I cut him off. “No.”
Vlad shakes his head at me, probably at the tone I used.
“What do you mean by ‘no’?” Sergei’s voice has an edge to it that declares his word is the first and last. I might be his grandniece, but family knows better than to defy him in front of the members of the brotherhood.
“No, Anastasia isn’t ready to get married yet.” I smooth my tone. “She knows nothing about becoming a wife.”
“And whose fault is that?” Igor mutters. “You’ve been sheltering her like she’s a stray kitten.”
That’s because she needs sheltering in this world, but I don’t say that since it’ll most definitely be used against me. I can’t allow myself any loopholes, even if it’s Ana.
“You want the Sokolov name to live on, right?” I gulp. “I will do it.”
“Color me surprised! I thought you’d be a spinster for life.” Damien pauses dramatically, then mimics a claw with his hand. “Marry me, tigress.”
“In your dreams, asshole.”
“You will really get married?” Sergei asks in an unsure tone.
“Yes, but I get to choose.”
My granduncle motions ahead. “Then choose.”
“Poor motherfucker,” Kirill mutters under his breath.
“Careful, or I might choose you,” I taunt, even though that will never happen. This table is full of alpha assholes who will either lock me up or make me go crazy or both.
“Spare us the suspense and choose.” Damien rubs his hands together. “Here’s a hint. Me.”
“I said, not you.” My gaze roams until it lands on Kirill. He pauses, probably thinking I will go on with my threat. “Not Kirill either, for reasons. He can’t handle me.”