“You’re impotent.”
Belov flinches. And it’s all I need to see to know it’s true.
“I think that’s nature’s way of telling you that your bloodline needs to end, Belov,” I growl.
“Right now, your bloodline is in my possession,” Belov snarls, finally dropping his nauseating smile. “I’d be careful if I were you, Solovev.”
“You already stole Semyon’s Bratva. Now you want to steal his grandchildren, as well?” I ask. “And how do you plan to make more heirs? Pimping out your wife because you can’t get her pregnant doesn’t exactly speak to strength.”
Belov is shaking. Apparently, I’ve touched a nerve. He’s revealed a vulnerability, showing me his naked neck.
And I’m trained to rip out his throat.
Perhaps he’s not so lucky after all.
“The Mikhailov Bratva must go on,” he says haughtily. “I will do whatever is necessary to ensure that happens. That is strength.”
“You could have picked anyone,” Willow says. “You don’t need my son. Why choose him?”
“Because he’s having trouble keeping his men in line,” I answer before Spartak can. “Isn’t that right, Belov? Are the Mikhailov loyalists giving you a hard time? You did let two of their buildings get turned into smoking craters. Maybe they’ve decided they don’t want to be led by an incompetent outsider who can’t even get his own fucking sperm to follow orders.”
He grinds his teeth. “I have control over my men.”
“Really?” I ask. “Because from where I’m sitting, it doesn’t even seem like you have control of yourself.”
“Look down on me all you want,” he snaps. “I wasn’t born with a silver goddamn spoon in my mouth. I had to claw my way up. Everything I have is because I earned it, won it, or ripped it away from people who weren’t strong enough to hold it.”
“You think you’re being rejected because of where you came from?” I ask. “Because of your name?”
“I know that’s why. There’s nothing else it could be.”
“Even all this time, you have no idea,” I shake my head. “It is your refusal to respect our ways. You’ve spent your whole life in the Bratva, and yet you still don’t understand any of it.”
“Is this where you talk about your brother’s death?” He rolls his eyes, and I want to gouge them out.
“A gentleman’s tête-à-tête means something in the underworld, Belov. Going against those rules changed what people saw when they looked at you.”
“You’re right about that. I became feared.”
I shake my head. “Fear is one thing. Loyalty is another.”
“Loyalty can be bought.” His fist tightens subtly on the tabletop. Bit by bit, he’s heating up. That’s good—arrogant men make mistakes when they’re inflamed with rage.
“That kind of loyalty only lasts until there is a better offer.”
I see doubt steal over him. He knows he’s relying on paid mercenaries to take me down, which only shows how desperate he has become. But I know their allegiance can and will change with the wind—or with the dollar.
“My men are loyal to me,” he says with a confidence I no longer believe.
“Then you have nothing to worry about, do you?” I lean back in my seat. Time to watch him steam up.
Belov diverts his attention back to Willow. “Your son is alive and well. But he won’t stay that way if you refuse me.”
“You really want to marry me?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“And you really want to make my son your heir?”
“I do,” he says, smiling deeply. “You will have the world and he will have the legacy I’ve built.”
“Not much of a legacy, is it?” she remarks. “Really, you want to steal the legacy my family has built. The one that comes from my name.”
He waves her words away. “Don’t worry yourself over all the details. Just know, if you choose to obey me, you’ll live a life of comfort and luxury. This arrangement doesn’t have to be unpleasant.”
“I’m not the kind of woman who obeys.”
“I’ve tamed a strong woman before.” He stands up and circles around Ariel. He grabs a lock of her hair. “This one was a real stallion when we first met. And now, look at my beauty! She’s as timid as a lamb. She kills when I need her to kill. She fights when I need her to fight. But to me, she is pliant. Submissive. A helpless little marionette, with me holding the strings.”