not wanting to commit to anything permanent. “I agree, it feels like the next logical step as we negotiate the terms of our alliance.”
Pushing his empty glass toward the edge of the table, Oleg leans in and looks me in the eye. His expression smooths out, becoming stark and serious. “It’s time for us to stop dancing around the matter, Diego. You’re a smart man, just as your father was … God rest his soul.” He pauses to execute the sign of the cross, and I follow suit, a hollowed pit of guilt growing in my middle. “We both know that a partnership between us will benefit you better than it will us.”
“That’s an interesting assumption, considering you’re only able to traffic your goods through any port on the southeast because I allow it.”
Oleg shrugs. “Da, but business at your little club will dry up like the Sahara if I enforce the same protection rules on you as everyone else. I never wanted to do that because your papa and I were friends. He offered aid when I needed it, and I did the same for him.”
“I don’t see why that arrangement can’t continue between us. I’m not my father, but I’ve capably run and expanded our business since I became head of the family.”
“You have, and it makes me proud to see,” Oleg relents. “But if the Yezhov and Pérez families are to become partners in every sense of the word, then a deeper commitment is necessary. I cannot consider moving forward without certain assurances.”
Fuck. This is what I had hoped to avoid. Instead of sly suggestions and manipulation, Oleg is now resorting to an outright ultimatum.
“I won’t be forced into anything,” I warn him, my voice low. I might be half his age, but we are equals here. “I’m open to negotiations, but ultimatums won’t be considered. At all.”
Oleg’s nostrils flare, and I suspect he wants to take me by the ear and shake me like the young boy he sees me as. “Be very careful, moy drug. With the Irish and the Armenians nipping at your heels, you cannot afford me as an enemy.”
I could remind him that the Irish gangs have limited power outside the northeast, but that would be splitting hairs. Besides, the threat of the Armenians is a real one—though Oleg neglected to mention that those bloodthirsty bastards hate Russians as much as they hate Colombians.
“I don’t want you for an enemy,” I reply instead.
“Then you, your sister, and your lieutenants will attend the dinner party. We’ll eat and drink and leave all talk of business at the door. You will sit beside Nataly and charm her—take the time to know her. I’ll allow you to court my daughter, an honor I’m sure you know has been denied every other who has asked. When an adequate period of courtship has passed, I am certain you will come to love her. A marriage making our two families into one will then be a natural progression.”
“That doesn’t sound like much of a suggestion. It sounds more like a demand.”
Oleg smirks. “If I align my family with yours, you’ll have access to my dark web connections. That will be worth ten times your weight in gold. If I am to give so much, I expect you to be willing to do the same. I will not force you to the altar … but to refuse the generous offer of my daughter’s hand in marriage will have me rethinking this arrangement.”
There isn’t much I can say to argue that point, and the bastard knows it. I come to my feet and button my jacket. “Send the date and time for the dinner, and we’ll be there. I will consider your other … suggestion.”
“That is all I ask,” Oleg says, standing and offering me his hand. “You are wiser than your years, syn. I know you will come to see why things must be this way. And perhaps you and my Nataly will fall deeply in love. She will make you happy.”
My only response is a terse nod before I turn to walk away. Oleg using the Russian endearment for ‘son’ usually feels genuine, but just now it feels like another manipulation—a subtle warning that with one decision I could go from being like a son to him, to being his enemy.
There must be something else I can offer him. Marriage and children have never been in the cards for me, not even to produce a miniature version of