“You really shouldn’t have. This can be used as evidence against us.” Jason pushes the briefcase back to Sergey. “Ask your men to take it away.”
“You won’t even look inside to see how much I’m offering?” The skepticism in Sergey’s voice is palpable.
“No. No, I won’t,” Jason says firmly. “How about we go straight to the reason for this meeting? We’ve both come from a long way, after all, and are still going back to our bases tonight.”
“Hmm.” Sergey gestures again, and the same man retrieves the briefcase from the table. “You surprise me, Councilor.”
“Let’s just say a briefcase of similar contents almost landed me in serious trouble some time ago. I’d rather not talk about it.” He adds quickly, waving an airy hand when Sergey leans forward with interest.
“A shame. That sounds like it could make for an interestingstory.” Sergey signals to the waiter who’s been hovering by the entrance, looking thoroughly spooked.
The poor bastard practically shakes as he approaches. “G–good evening, sirs. Are you ready to order?”
Sergey nods. “Certainly. We haven’t had a chance to look through your menu, but from the reviews I’ve heard, your food is excellent. So why don’t you surprise us with the house specials?”
The waiter gulps, face falling like this is a trap. “O–okay, sir.” He scurries away.
Sergey launches into small talk about weather and seasons while Jason responds with half-hearted politeness. I lose interest quickly and take that as my cue to head to my seat where Enzo has already plowed halfway through the finger foods.
“Oh, you were interested, after all?” he asks as I sit down.
I wave him off and pick up the cup of coffee that came with the meal. It’s not bad. The bitter strength burns down my throat, and I realize I can’t remember the last time I had coffee.Maybe I should get a coffee machine for the office.
The waiter returns to Sergey’s table with a tray loaded with food. Behind him, three more waiters enter, each carrying trays to Sergey’s scattered men.
“Thank you,” Jason says quietly, earning himself a double take from the waiter, who quickly looks away and flees the moment his tray is empty.
They continue their mundane conversation for the length of their meal, and I start getting antsy.Am I not going to get anything tonight?I text Tony—one of my men stationed in the staff quarters—to discreetly snap a photo of Sergey and Jason. Just in case.
The hard evidence could become useful in the future.
Close to an hour later, Sergey finishes his meal andfinallygets down to business. “So, have you thought about my offer?”
Here we fucking go.
Jason clears his throat and picks up his glass of water—respect to the man for avoiding alcohol. His reasoning, as he told Sergey, was that he needed to stay sharp for their conversation. Perhaps he’s not as stupid as I thought.
“I have. There’s a lot of risk involved for me, Sergey. The Nightshades are cunning. Rafael is smart as hell and always has a pulse underground. If he finds out…” He lets his voice trail off, leaving his implication hanging.
Sergey chuckles. “Then it’s a good thing you won’t have to worry about Rafael and the Nightshades for much longer, isn’t it?”
Enzo and I both stiffen.
“Oh?” Jason prompts. “Care to share why you're so confident? Maybe that will convince me to join you.”
“There’s only so much I can reveal without implicating my patroness, but just know—the raid on their clubs a few weeks ago isn’t the end of their run-in with the FBI. They’re going after the Nightshadeshard, and I have confidence they’ll get them sooner rather than later. There’s nothing the government can’t do once they have you in their sights.”
Son of a bitch.
“Is Jason recording this?” Enzo asks.
“Doesn’t matter. I am.” I nod down at my phone, and he smiles wryly.
“That sounds serious. Do you have a timeline for when this will happen?” Jason presses.
“Well, nothing concrete yet. But rest assured that—” The rest of his words are cut off as the door bursts open and several people dressed in civilian clothing flood in, guns raised.
“Get on your feet! Hands in the air!” one of them barks.
