Oleg chuckles. Either the booze is hitting me harder than usual, or he looks and sounds a little nervous. “It’s true, I went for a show of power. You see how the Yakuza have turned against us. I needed to remind Raizo who he’s f*****g with.”
Tolya steals a side-eye glance over at me. Again, I pretend like I’m not catching the unspoken subtext in every word our father breathes—but if silence could write novels, we’d be reading a f*****g saga.
“Fifty million,” Tolya scoffs. “Damn. I’m honored, Otets. How many trades did you have to make to come up with the extra cash?”
Instead of answering, Oleg waves us off with a dismissive hand and jumps topic. “What we really need to discuss is your return to the Bratva. It may be time to expand into new territories, which is always a good thing.”
To
