Page 47 of Tainted Empire
“As much as I fucking hate dragging you into this, Malyshka, you need to know who you’re dealing with tonight,” he says, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror.
I nod, smoothing down the fabric of my gown. “I’m ready, Mischa. Tell me everything.”
He turns to face me, his gaze serious. “First, there’s Vladimir Durov, goes by Vlad. He’s the Serb hosting this shindig. Sly as a fox and twice as dangerous, red hair, blue eyes. Keep him on your good side, but don’t let your guard down.”
I commit the name to memory, picturing a face to go with it. “Vladimir Durov, got it.”
“Then there’s Irina Markovic. Blonde, red lips are her thing, and sharp as a tack. She’s Vlad’s right hand. If you can get on her good side, it could work to our advantage. Lucky for you, she loves classical music and according to Orlov, she’s seen you perform.”
I tilt my head, intrigued. “Irina Markovic. I’ll make sure to remember her.”
“The others to watch out for tonight,” he says, his voice low and serious as he moves closer, his reflection next to mine in the mirror. “The one I don’t want you to go near but I know he’ll fucking try to set me off, is Viktor Dragojevic. He’s the one with the scar across his left cheek. I returned the favor for what he did to me.”
As he says this, he points to his own scar and I nod, mentally noting the name as I fasten the clasp of my necklace. “Got it. Scar, left cheek. What about him?”
“He’s got his fingers in a lot of pies – illegal arms, smuggling. But he’s smart, covers his tracks well.” Mikhail’s eyes meet mine in the mirror, a hint of steel in them. “He’s been trying to encroach and deal in my territory for years. Stay clear of him if you can.”
I meet his gaze, determination and a hint of fear settling in my chest. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”
He studies me for a moment, then smiles, his usual confidence returning. “I know you will. You’re going to knock them dead tonight. But just remember, these people are sharks. They’ll smile to your face and stab you in the back without a second thought.”
I return his smile, feeling a surge of confidence. “I won’t let you down.”
Mikhail leans in, his lips brushing mine in a gentle kiss. “I know you won’t. You’re strong, baby. Stronger than you even know.”
As we finish getting ready, Mikhail’s words echo in my mind. The names that now hold significance in this dangerous dance we’re about to enter.
“These fuckers can smell fear a mile away; you need to be sharp, confident,” he says as he slips on his cufflinks.
I smile at this, his words a mix of concern and pride. “I can handle a bunch of pompous suits, Mischa. Watch me.”
His eyes sweep over me, a slow, appreciative smile spreading across his face. “You look incredible, as fucking usual.”
I do a little twirl before slipping my arms around his neck. “I’ll be the queen of the ball, don’t you worry.”
He chuckles, the tension easing from his face. “That’s my girl,” he says, then kisses me softly and steps back, his expression turning serious. “This Serbian contact, he’s a key player. We need him on our side for various reasons, but watch your back. These events are a fucking snake pit.”
I take a deep breath, steeling myself. “I’m ready, Mikhail. Let’s show them what we’re made of.”
He offers his arm, and I take it, feeling a surge of strength from his touch. “Let’s do this,” he says, and together, we head out of the room.
This night is more than just a gala; it’s a test, a proving ground.
As we descend the stairs, hand in hand, I feel a sense of purpose. Tonight, I’m not just the wife of a Pakhan; I’m Mikhail’s equal, his partner.
And I’m ready to play the game.
“Remember, trust no one,” he reminds me as the car pulls up to the grand entrance, the building lit up like a beacon in the night.
As we step out, the flash of cameras and the murmur of the crowd greet us. Mikhail’s grip on my arm tightens, a silent reassurance. We make our way inside, the opulent hall bustling with the city’s elite.
A flutter of nerves dances in my stomach. This is it; Mikhail has trusted me to be alongside him and now I need to play my part. I can’t let him down, but even more so, I can’t let myself down.
He senses my tension, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “Just stick close to me. You’ve got this.”
I take a deep breath, nodding. The room is a maze of potential allies and hidden dangers, and I’m acutely aware of every glance in our direction.
The first person we encounter is Vladimir Durov himself. He’s exactly as Mikhail described – his red hair a stark contrast against the sea of dark suits, his eyes sharp and calculating. He’s charming, with a disarming smile, but his eyes are sharp, taking in everything.