DMITRI“Mr. Pavlov is waiting in your office,” Jakob, my secretary, says as I stride in.I nod, not breaking pace, and push open the door.Igor Pavlov, thepakhanof one of the New Jersey Bratvas, stands as soon as he sees me. His massive hand stretches out, and I grasp it firmly. “Orlov,” he greets me with a smirk. “You could’ve scheduled this for another time.”“Why would I?” I drop his hand and move behind my desk, letting my briefcase hit the floor with a thud.He shrugs, watching me with sharp, calculating eyes. “You just got married. Figured you’d be on your honeymoon. Or are the rumors true?”I arch an eyebrow, leaning back in my chair. “Rumors?”Before he can answer, there’s a knock. The door swings open, and Alexey steps in, anotherpakhan,with a reputation as unpredictable as his temper. He doesn’t bother with formalities, taking a seat next to Igor like he owns the place.“Roman won’t be joining us,” Alexey informs us, lighting a cigar with a flick of his lighter. “He’s dealin
Last Updated : 2024-11-29 Read more