“Mr. Akopov,” Agent Carver greets as he’s shown into my study. “Pleasure to see you’ve made the right choice.”
He grins, and I imagine, just for a moment, how satisfying it would be to feed those bared veneers to him one by one like f*****g Tic-Tacs.
“Don’t mistake necessity for choice,” I growl, gesturing to the chair across from my desk. “And don’t mistake cooperation for surrender.”
Carver sprawls in a chair, crossing one leg over the other like we’re old friends catching up over brandy. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” His eyes flick to the stack of files on my desk. “Is that everything?”
I nod. “Everything you need to crucify the Solovyov family while keeping your promise to leave mine alone.”
He chuckles, the sound like nails dragging down my spine. “That depends entirely on
