The Agreement (Darkest Lies Trilogy Book 1) by Bethany-Kris (motivational books for men .TXT) 📕

All it would take for the money to disappear was Maxim’s ashtray catching fire. The whole place would burn down, and take the cash with it. Roman never really understood the value of having cold, hard cash by the millions just lying around. It was harder to hide—harder to keep.

Then again, nobody asked his opinion.

“Well?” Maxim demanded.

“I did the job, as best it could be done, under the circumstances and given the resources I have. Currently. Having said that—I’m just getting started.”

“So, you’re saying you’ll have more for me next month?”

Roman only shrugged in response. Let the man make of that whatever he wanted. He wasn’t the type to make promises he couldn’t keep, but he also knew what was expected of him at the end of the day. More was always better. To an extreme. Greed knew no bounds.

Especially in their world.

Maxim would never stop wanting more and more ... and more. Frankly, Roman had to respect it. As much as he could manage, anyhow.

Beside him, but closer to the boss’s desk, Leonid sat at a table with an electronic counting machine. Sliding wads of cash into the machine, the man never looked away from the dancing money while a loud whirring sound resounded through the room with each one. The slow smile and subtle nod told him Leonid was happy with the results he was seeing. He even grunted his approval toward Maxim, a signal for the boss to turn back on Roman.

“And what about your cut—have you paid yourself?” Maxim asked.

“Last night. The money came through to one of my offshore accounts. Not that I expected anything different.”

“And the ... cars?”

Did he care, or was the man just curious? What did it matter how Roman was paid, or the details of the overall job as long as Maxim was paid?

Roman indulged the question because he didn’t have much of a choice. “They’re already on a boat, all taken apart in a thousand different pieces, but there. That’s my part of the deal, they’ll deal with the rest.”

Maxim nodded, impressed.

Silence reigned in the den as Leonid continued his business at the table. Maxim seemed fine to let that be the case while he worked on the cigar still filling the room with smoke. He toyed with the glass of vodka on ice at the edge of his desk, sipping on the drink, and watching his spy pile up stack after stack of dirty money.

Roman counted the minutes.

A good thirty of them.

Finally, Leonid muttered, “And the money is all here, yeah? Every last dollar.”

Maxim gestured to Roman once more, saying, “You’ve done good work here. I’ll make sure your father hears about it, too.”

That was all Roman needed. He wasn’t here for more. Having gone through the expectations of tribute and the charade of the event, he no longer needed to remain there once his offering to the boss was counted as right and good. Turning to walk away, Maxim stopped him again.

“And I want to thank you for not speaking about my daughter,” Maxim said, the low words still managing to crawl across the room and slam into Roman’s tense back like a punch. “Not mentioning her to anyone, no?”

Roman stopped in his tracks, careful to control the surprise daring to spark in his eyes when he pivoted on the spot, facing Maxim.

What the fuck was this about?

He raised his brow higher, and Maxim continued.

“It’s a delicate time for her ...”

“And us,” Leonid murmured to himself while he stuffed the money back into the bags.

Roman kept his confusion under the surface—but only because one thing was clear. The fact that the Yazov Bratva clearly had some kind of problem with Karine. Even though she was Maxim’s daughter, something strange surrounded her.

Especially here.

It bothered Roman.

He opened his mouth to ask for an explanation; he hadn’t even mentioned Karine. Maxim’s willingness to offer conversation about her—even if it was only to thank him again—struck Roman as odd. Considering the way the man had acted the first time.

Roman hadn’t forgotten that threat.

Maxim was quick to keep talking, forcing Roman to stay quiet and listen. “I was just curious to see if you would speak to someone about her. It’d be natural, you know? Human nature. Anyone would want to find out more about my daughter, but certainly when they’re new to my world. Ask questions about her, even. But you didn’t, and that’s a good sign, Roman. Another testament to your loyalty, I think.”

Roman flexed his jaw with every clench of his teeth, uneasy with the man’s tone that didn’t fill him with confidence, despite the words Maxim used. He offered the remark about loyalty like it was a compliment, yet it landed more backhanded than perhaps he intended. Or maybe that was exactly what Maxim wanted.

There was only one thing Roman trusted in Chicago—that he was watched and reported on constantly. Who was it? Josef, likely. One of the many bulls that came and went, lingering a little too long whenever Roman showed his face at the business of a Yazov affiliated man. Or were there others keeping a close eye on him? Some even he hadn’t caught on to yet? Reporting back to the pakhan when Roman had done something or nothing.

Probably.

But the thing was—the more Maxim talked about his daughter, bringing her back to Roman’s attention for no other reason than he apparently could, the more he fixated on her. He certainly wouldn’t forget about Karine that easily. Certainly not when everything about and around her seemed ... not quite right. He found that interesting even if it was a problem.

At least, Roman knew that.

One thing to his benefit, anyway.

“If that’s all, then I should go,” Roman said, offering nothing in return about Karine or Maxim’s random statements that felt way too much like bait. “I have calls to make.”

Since the boss didn’t interrupt him that time, he made a beeline for the door.

If only it could be that easy.

Just