“Maybe we should ask your pretty little wife for her opinion,” Budimir suggests. “Considering we’re discussing the future of her son, too.”
Esme looks towards me with confusion, but I already know what she’s going to say.
I know my wife. This is just another one of Budimir’s mind games.
“Go ahead,” I say with a shrug. “Ask her.”
“Are you so sure of her response?”
“I don’t have a single doubt.”
Budimir’s smile is less convincing this time. He looks towards Esme. She freezes instinctively, her body cringing back as she’s forced to meet his eye.
“I’ve given your husband two choices,” he tells her amicably. “He’s overpowered, in men and in strength, but I’ve decided to be generous.”
She doesn’t move a muscle.
Budimir continues, “His choice is simple: give up his claim to the Bratva an
