Chapter 5 Chapter 5
Killian
“We’re almost there, Boss. Our informant confirmed that everyone has arrived and is waiting for you.”
Kolya’s voice comes through the phone as my black SUV turns onto the private road leading to one of my establishments.
Of course, they’re waiting for me. No one begins a meeting without the Pakhan of one of New York’s most powerful criminal organizations.
“Good. Are the cameras in place?”
“All six of them, Pakhan. Everything is set.”
“Make sure they remain hidden. I don’t want anyone getting suspicious.”
“Understood.”
I end the call and slide my phone into my pocket.
For once, I wish I weren’t the man responsible for keeping an entire criminal empire running. Unfortunately, wishing doesn’t change anything. This is the life I was born into, and it’s the life I’ve spent years building.
The Kozlov name carries weight for a reason.
My family has controlled its share of New York’s underworld for generations, and I’ve worked too hard to let that power slip through my fingers.
Still, there are days when I wonder what my life would have looked like if things had gone differently.
My gaze drops to the scar running from my upper arm toward my wrist, partially hidden beneath my shirt sleeve.
A permanent reminder of a past I have never been able to escape.
Ten years.
Ten years since my younger brother died, and I still remember the helplessness that followed. I remember the promises I made to myself, the nights I spent searching for answers, and the people who smiled in my face while hiding things they hoped I’d never discover.
Some wounds heal. Others turn into reasons to live.
I pull my sleeve down.
They will pay for what they took from me.
Every last one of them.
I don’t care how long it takes or how many doors I have to break through to uncover the truth. When I’m finished, the people responsible will understand exactly what it means to lose everything.
The SUV rolls through the gates of my private lounge and comes to a stop outside the entrance.
Time to put the past aside and deal with the present.
I step out, straightening my suit jacket as Anton joins me on one side and Uncle Bento on the other.
Anton is my distant cousin, right-hand man, and one of the very few people who can speak to me without worrying that he’ll lose his tongue for it. He’s also one of the most irritating people I’ve ever had the misfortune of knowing.
Unfortunately, he’s useful enough that I tolerate him.
“You look particularly miserable tonight, Boss,” he says, matching my stride. “Should I assume your upcoming marriage has something to do with it?”
I don’t even look at him.
“Shut the fuck up, Anton.”
He chuckles. “That’s a yes, then.”
“Do you want to spend the evening counting your teeth?”
“Not particularly. I happen to be very fond of them.”
Uncle Bento laughs beside us. I ignore them both and continue toward the entrance.
Anton has been like this for years. He knows when to joke, when to remain silent, and when to stop pushing his luck. Most people would never dare speak to me the way he does, but Anton has earned his place beside me.
After my brother died, I was in no condition to lead an empire. My father was extremely sick, grieving my brother made me reckless, and anger made me careless. Anton helped keep the business running while Uncle Bento ensured that no one mistook my silence for weakness.
I owe them more than I say.
And unlike most men in my position, I understand that loyalty deserves to be rewarded.
The doors open, revealing the dimly lit lounge beyond. Dark glass covers the walls, reflecting the soft lights and giving the entire place an almost unreal appearance. Low music plays through the room, blending with the quiet conversations of wealthy patrons and the clink of glasses.
This was one of my first major investments after taking control of the family business.
Years later, it’s still one of my favorites.
Several guests glance toward us as we pass. A few recognize me immediately and lower their voices. Others simply watch, curious about the men who have just entered with enough security to make the staff nervous.
I pay them no attention.
My meeting is waiting in the private VIP section at the back.
Six men sit around a large table, drinks in hand and expressions carefully arranged. Each one has influence in his own corner of the world. Politicians, smugglers, businessmen, and men who prefer not to have their names mentioned in public.
They all have one thing in common.
Power.
The trouble with power is that it never seems to be enough. The more a man acquires, the more he begins to believe he deserves. Eventually, greed clouds his judgment, and he starts making decisions that threaten everything he has built.
That’s why these men are here.
And that’s why I’ve agreed to meet them.
My gaze settles on the man sitting near the center of the table.
Alessandro Valenti. Soon to be my father in-law
Former politician, wealthy businessman, and a professional liar with enough skeletons in his closet to raise an undead army.
His face lights up when he sees me approaching. He rises halfway from his chair and spreads his arms as though we’re old friends.
“Killian! Finally. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about us.”
He says, gesturing toward the empty chair beside him.
“Come, sit. We have plenty to discuss.”
Instead, I take the seat directly opposite him, placing myself at the center of the table.
His smile falters for half a second before he settles back into his chair.
Good.
The last thing I need is for Alessandro to mistake our upcoming family arrangement for friendship.
“The next time you address me so casually in a business meeting,” I tell him, “remember who you’re speaking to. You may be arranging a marriage with my family, but that doesn’t make us equals in this room. Understood?”
The color rises in his face. For a moment, I think he’ll try to challenge me. Then he forces a smile and dips his head.
“Of course, Pakhan.”
“Good.” I lean back in my chair.
I haven’t given much thought to my future wife. Isabella Valenti is attractive enough, but I’ve met plenty of beautiful women. Her social media popularity and enthusiasm for the marriage mean nothing to me.
She’s a convenient part of an arrangement. Nothing more.
Her stepsister, on the other hand, is becoming an increasingly inconvenient distraction.
Reyna Valenti.
I remember the way she glared at me in the suite, as though she could set me on fire with nothing but her eyes. I remember her sharp tongue, her refusal to back down, and the look on her face when I pushed her into the hot tub.
Most women would have been too frightened to speak to me the way she did.
Reyna had practically dared me to make her life difficult.
And then, at dinner, she looked at me as though she couldn’t decide whether to throw something at me or run in the opposite direction.
I almost smile just thinking about it. Almost.
I have no business thinking about her.
Whatever exists between us is nothing more than curiosity. She’s Alessandro’s daughter, Isabella’s stepsister, and a woman whose life is already complicated enough without my involvement.
Besides, with what I have planned for the Valenti family, the last thing I want is to get entangled with a pair of blue eyes, soft bow lips begging to be kissed, and a sharp tongue. I turn my attention to the other men at the table.
“Good evening, gentlemen.”
My voice is calm, but the conversation dies immediately.
Kai DeLuca, the head of a powerful international assassination network, gives me a respectful nod. Kai and I aren’t friends in the traditional sense, but we have an understanding. We’ve done business together for years, and he knows better than most that my word isn’t something I give lightly.
Beside him sits Ben Constantino, the leader of a rival organization.
He barely looks at me.
“Pakhan,” he mutters.
I acknowledge him with a slight nod.
Ben has never liked me, and the feeling is mutual. We’ve managed to maintain a fragile peace because neither of us is stupid enough to start a war without good reason.
I’d prefer to keep it that way.
Drinks are served, and the meeting begins.
For the first half hour, the discussion revolves around shipments, routes, and the movement of goods through several ports. An older businessman spends far too long explaining the problems his men have encountered, as though repeating the same information will somehow make it more useful.
I let him finish.
Then I glance toward Ben.
“So, why was this meeting called at such short notice?”
He straightens in his chair. “Our shipment was compromised.”
“Was it?”
His eyes narrow. “You know perfectly well it was. The operation didn’t go as agreed, Pakhan. I was promised protection in exchange for my contribution, but my men were left exposed.”
I drum my fingers against the armrest. “And yet your shipment arrived.”
“After we lost two men and nearly lost everything else!”
“That’s unfortunate.”
His expression darkens. “Unfortunate? That’s all you have to say?”
“Would you prefer a speech?”
“Don’t play games with me, Kozlov. I won’t keep losing men because you have too much pride to honor your promises. This is the last deal I’ll invest in if you can’t guarantee my protection.”
“Watch your tone when speaking to the Pakhan.” My uncle says in a hard voice, glaring at Ben.
Ben turns toward him. “I wasn’t speaking to you.”
“And I wasn’t asking for your opinion,” Bento replies coldly.
I lift one hand, silencing them both.
“Enough.”
The room falls quiet.
I turn back to Ben. “Your operation was never fully approved by me. You were told to wait until my men confirmed that the route was clear. Instead, you moved ahead because you were impatient. You made the decision to risk your men, and now you want to blame me for the consequences.”
His jaw tightens. “You still promised protection.”
“And you were offered protection under the agreed conditions. You ignored them.”
He stares at me, but I don’t look away.
“If you decide to withdraw from this arrangement, that’s your choice. But understand something, Ben. If you walk away from my table, you also walk away from the protection my organization provides. I won’t have my men risking their lives for someone who refuses to follow instructions.”
The threat hangs between us. Ben’s expression changes. He knows exactly what losing my protection would mean for his operations.
Finally, he lowers his gaze. “We’ll continue the deal.”
“Excellent. Then perhaps next time, you’ll follow instructions before accusing me of breaking my word.”
I turn to the other men.
“Now, is there anything else that requires my attention?”
No one speaks.
“Good. Let’s move on.”
The meeting continues for another hour, covering business arrangements and security concerns. By the time we’re nearing the end, I’ve already decided which matters need further investigation and which can be handled without my involvement.
Suddenly, my phone lights up on my table. Normally, I’d ignore it.
But the name displayed on the screen catches my attention immediately.
Reyna Valenti.
For a moment, I simply stare at it.
Then I pick up the phone.
An Instagram notification fills the screen.
‘Reyna Valenti has started following you.’
A slow smile spreads across my face.
Well well well…
I lean back in my chair as amusement settles into my chest.
The girl who spent the entire evening glaring at me and mouthing me off is also secretly stalking me as well.
And now I’m suddenly looking forward to the next time I’ll see the hotheaded firefly.
