Page 12 of Dark Alliance
Oleg Belinski is the new right-hand man of the Roguilins’ current leader, Grigori Rostov, and he’s vile. He’s managed to dig his claws deep into Nino’s shoulders and influence every decision.
Even if the Russians won’t admit this, they’re using an alliance with us to facilitate their war with the Irish Kings. To gain their cooperation, we contribute our men and holdings.
In my opinion, we shouldn’t get involved with their feud.
Unfortunately, Nino doesn’t see things that way.
He likes the attention Belinski gives him, the promise of power.
Father, at least, can still be swayed. So I hope today’s meeting goes well.
Nino struts in, his green button-down shirt loose at the collar, his tattoos shining in the lamplight. “Father.” He grins at our dad, then gives me a nod. “Cat.”
I lift my coffee in greeting. “Happy New Year.”
“You too.” His eyes narrow, their familiar brown pinning me to the spot. “Why are you smiling?”
My father shifts, shooting Nino a strange look. “Is she not allowed to smile, son?” Even in his weakened state, he’s always protecting me.
“I mean, yeah. She’s just always so serious.” Nino rakes a hand through his dark hair, slicking it back more. “It’s weird.”
“I’m not smiling. I’m chewing.” I stuff another piece of muffin into my mouth as if to prove my point. If Nino studies me any longer, he’s going to know I got laid.
Not so long ago, I would’ve told him immediately.
As much as I miss those days, though, I’m not exactly keen to revisit them right this second. We’ve got too much to do, and our father doesn’t need to hear about my mind-blowing evening.
“Belinski’s satisfied with our new arrangement.” Nino grabs a black coffee and a warm pistachio croissant before sitting on the black couch closest to our father.
“You’re welcome.” I wrap my father’s fingers around the cup. “Be glad I managed to get that typed up and signed on top of all my other work yesterday.”
Nino slurps his coffee loudly, watching me from over the rim of his mug. I swallow the urge to roll my eyes as I take my seat behind Father, leaving the armchair on his other side empty. Seen but not heard.
After a soft knock on the door, Marlene, our house manager, enters the den. “Mr. Eduardo?”
“Yes, Marlene?” My father smiles before slowly sipping his tea.
She smooths a hand over her pristine gray bun. “Mr. Connor Gallagher is here for your appointment.”
“Thank you. Send him in.”
“They sent the fucking Gallagher from California?” Nino’s olive-toned neck goes scarlet beneath his ink, a bad sign considering we haven’t even started yet. “Finn couldn’t even bother to show? They sent a Port King instead? Does this guy even have Finn’s ear?”
Well, shit. This isn’t good.
“It’s fine, Nino.” I keep my voice soft and even, praying he won’t cause a scene. “It’s just a first meeting. Play nice.”
He glares, a vein in his forehead jumping. “Why should I?”
“Enough.” My father pins us with the “zip-it” look we learned to recognize as kids.
We’ve heard the rumors about Connor and Brody Gallagher, the brothers from LA. Their father, Declan, runs the rival King faction on the West Coast. Brody recently defected, joining Finn and the Irish Kings here in New York, and Connor followed suit to broker a truce between the two branches of the family.
Beyond that, all we know for sure is that the Russians hateallthe Kings, West and East Coast alike, but they have a special interest in destroying the Port Kings thanks to Brody killing a bunch of them in New Orleans. Including Andrei Kruschev, the man Oleg Belinski replaced.
I shove the rest of my muffin into my mouth and brace for the worst.
When the door opens again, Dane Ryder breezes through the threshold like he strutted off the cover of a magazine.
