Page 97 of Beautiful Ruins
“Then our interests align,” I agreed.
Chernov tilted his head.
“Not entirely.”
Silence settled.
He let it stretch deliberately.
“We are now,” his voice dropped lower, “out of the money he stole.And out of the collateral he promised.”
There it was.The truth.This was not about Nathan.It was about Izzy.
“And you believe that this collateral is still owed to you?”
“I believe,” Chernov forced out, “that debts must be balanced.”
My hand rested flat against the table, completely still.
“I don’t give a fuck how you do things in Russia,” I spat out, each word deliberate.“But here, on my turf, things are done differently.”
The room went very still.One of his men took a half step forward before Chernov lifted a finger and stopped him without looking his way.
“On my land,” my gaze locked on his, “you live bymyrules.”
The temperature dropped.Tangibly.The Russians did not take kindly to my tone.
I saw it in the tightening of their shoulders.In the way their attention went from negotiation to evaluation.In the subtle repositioning of weight that suggested contingency planning.
“You speak,” Chernov growled, “with confidence.”
“I speak,” I challenged, “with authority.”
A long pause followed.Then he smiled again.This time colder.
“You protect her.”Not a question.A statement.
“I protect what is mine,” I shot back.
One of his men let out a scoff which sounded more like a snort.
Chernov’s gaze flicked to him once.
The man went silent immediately.
“She was offered as payment.That is a transactional reality.”
“No.”I shook my head.“That was the delusion of a desperate addict trying to save his own life.”
Chernov’s fingers tapped once against the table.Measured.Thoughtful.
“And yet, the debt is still outstanding.”
My stomach turned cold.
“And now,” Chernov leaned back slightly, “we have redirected our attention.”
There it was.
