Then Caruso said, "No. But I can stop you from getting shot all the same."
Leila saw the tension between them. This was no empty threat. Caruso spoke as if he were aware of an attack in progress.
Makros knew it too. He let the words settle before standing. "If the Orel Bratva have an issue, they can come to me."
Caruso's gaze sharpened. "They will."
Makros smirked. "Good. I'd hate to waste a plane ticket to Moscow."
Caruso didn't share his amusement. He took another slow drag from his cigar, then tapped the ash into the tray beside him. "They don't want a meeting, Makros. They want compensation."
Makros tilted his head to one side. "Compensation? For what? For being so sloppy as to let their product fall into my possession?"
Matteo sighed. "You don't get it, do you? There wasn't any shipment."
Leila watched as Matteo exchanged a look with Caruso. A silent conversation.
Makros leaned forward. "I heard you perfectly well. You've been letting the Orel use your channels for their needs, and now they think they own you. But I'm not their messenger boy, and I don't answer to Russians either."
Caruso sighed, fingers tap-tap-tapping on the tabletop. "You're taking a risk."
Makros smiled. "No risk, no reward."
Scar-Cheek smiled. "Yeah? We'll see if you're rewarded when they blow your head off."
Leila's hand curled at her hip. She did not like seeing how much enjoyment Scar-Cheek was getting out of this exchange.
Caruso leaned forward at last, his cigar balanced on the rim of his plate. "Makros, I'm going to give you a choice. Either you get this straightened out, or you'll take the consequences."
Makros arched an eyebrow. "And what exactly does 'get this straightened out' entail?"
Matteo folded his hands. "The Orel are demanding a refund. You disrupted their supply. That means you replenish the loss... or you give them something of more value."
Makros' eyes darkened. "Something of more value?"
Caruso returned his look. "Something like a district."
There was stillness.
Leila's breath caught in her throat .
Makros' hands clenched on the armrest, his knuckles going white for an instant before he worked at relaxing them. He gave a short, bitter laugh. "Let me imagine. They're demanding my docks."
Matteo nodded once.
Makros clicked his tongue. "The Russians have to think I'm a fool."
Caruso's expression betrayed nothing. "You and I both know it was a mistake to take that shipment. The question is, what are you going to do about it?"
Leila waited as Makros swept the room with his gaze. His eyes flicked from Caruso to Matteo, and then to Scar-Cheek, who was all too smug.
Then he got up.
"I'll tell you what I'm going to do," Makros said, adjusting his cuffs. "I'm going to walk out of here with my docks intact."
Scar-Cheek snorted. "That so?"
Makros gave him a flat look. "Unless one of you is going to stop me?"
