The Devil's CrownPart Two - Monica James Page 0,23
a show of strength. Who’ll crumple first?
My knees begin to tremble, and I feel faint, but I don’t let it show. To Alek, I’m on the arm of my fiancé because I want to be.
Santo finally caves. “What did you want to talk about, my friend?”
Alek smirks, but nothing about it is welcoming. “How are you enjoying the festivities?” he asks, his Russian accent sending goose bumps all the way to my toes.
“Very fine,” Santo replies, playing along. “You always knew how to throw a good party.”
Alek nods, taking a long swallow of his scotch.
He still won’t acknowledge me, which hurts. I know I forced his hand, but I wish he didn’t believe me. I wish he’d do to Santo and Frank what he did to Serg. They deserve that and far worse. But what happens then?
He still has three other sons and the wrath of Mila to deal with. When he takes them down, they all must go. Otherwise, he’ll forever be looking over his shoulder.
“I’m glad you’re having fun. And what about you, Frank?” Alek moves his attention to Frank.
The hatred simmering behind his blue eyes turn them to a midnight black. He wants to flay the skin from his bones, and that pleases me so. It means he cares. It means there’s still a chance he’ll fight for me.
“Grand affair,” Frank replies, drawing me closer into his side.
I want to recoil, but I can’t.
“What about Henry?”
“What about him?” Frank counters. As if someone being stabbed in the throat with a broken champagne glass is a common party trick.
“You didn’t find his response to me regaining my position a little troubling?”
Saint shifts, shielding Willow with his body. I was stupid to believe she ever had feelings for Alek. Their love is suffocating in a good way.
“Yes, but this is to be expected. Not everyone is going to be happy about you returning.”
Alek nods, appearing to digest what Frank just said. “You’re right, which is why I called you both in here. I don’t expect things to go back to the way they were. When I was in control of this city, no one dared to challenge me.
“But times have changed, which is why I must too. I need allies I can trust. I hope you’re one of them.”
Santo nods, grinning from ear to ear as he believes Alek has played right into his palm. “Of course, my friend. You have the alliance of the Macrillos. If anyone dares to defy you, we will have your back.”
“Very good.” Alek hums, slowly running his finger along the rim of his glass. “You’re the biggest weaponries dealer in Russia. I deal in drugs,” he bluntly says. “We co-existed in the past because we were never a threat or in competition with one another. We stayed out of each other’s business. But I want that to change.”
What is he doing? Is he proposing what I think he is? Is he willingly getting into bed with the devil?
Santo allows Alek to finish, but his excitement is clear. This is what he wanted. This is what he’d hope would happen once Serg was gone. Alek, however, isn’t aware of Santo’s attempt at dabbling in drug distribution.
Alek needs allies to rebuild his name, and he believes Santo can help. But how can he go into business with him knowing what he does? Unless business is suddenly more important than me. I made my choice, and now Alek has made his.
He needs associates more than he needs me.
My stomach roils, and I think I’m going to be sick.
“What are you proposing?” Santo asks, pretending this is Alek’s idea. He won’t rouse any suspicion so when he strikes, it’ll be an ambush, one Alek will never see, as this is his plan after all.
“I want Raul gone,” he spits ruthlessly. “That asshole is a dead man walking. And I need your help. You were able to infiltrate his house once, which I thank you for. I need you to do it again.”
Santo runs his hand over his gray stubble, appearing deep in thought. “And if I agree? What do I get?”
“Austin Bailey’s head.”
Santo bursts into laughter. “Oh, you never fail to amaze me.”
Alek doesn’t smile. “My plan is for a new dictatorship. No more allowing the little fish to swim by, unharmed, because they steal from us. Austin may deal his hand-me-down guns from the IRA to low-life criminals, but that’s money out of your pocket.
“We never worried about that market because why bother with something so