He smiles, showing yellowed teeth. “For that, all I need to do is present your uncle with your head,” he says. “Budimir put out a standing contract on your life. Of course, that was before he announced that you were dead. Which means your head is probably worth a lot more now.”
“Probably,” I say. “But Budimir will just give you money. Maybe after that, he’ll throw you a bone every now and again. I can do more for you. Far more.”
“If I ally with you, of course,” Kaminski amends.
“Of course. So the only question now is… are you interested?”
“That depends,” Kaminski muses. “On your offer.”
So far, this has gone exactly as expected. I reach into a pocket and pull out the list of concessions that Adrik and I hashed out last night. Territories, shares of various trades and businesses, some
