So I pretend to agree and play the role of a doting son who isn’t wondering if that wine glass stem could pierce his skull with a hard enough blow. “New shipments coming in and someone blew up my biggest warehouse. I’m a bit on edge.”
“Bah. That’s what you get for hiring shitty security.”
Pavel shifts his weight between his feet, the only sign of irritation he’ll ever give in front of Oleg. We know better than to give the man an excuse to gloat his self-perceived superiority over us; he’s going to do it without our help or invitation.
“Anyways.” Oleg gestures to the two women now standing silently off to the side. “New acquisitions I’m training for sale. Two of my best behaved from the recent crop, but I have six more in the basement who seem very promising.”
I steal a glance at Pavel
