Damien
Nikolai leans forward, his elbows resting on the edge of the table, his green eyes sharp and calculating. Across from him, Andrei sits back, his expression cold, arms crossed as he watches me with the same intensity.
They couldn't be more different, though. Where Niko is calm and collected with dark hair and green eyes, Andrei has brunette hair with brown eyes and is more ruthless of the three of us.
The weight of the room is thick with tension, but that's nothing new. Meetings like this are rarely anything else.
"Franco Moretti is making his move, and he's doing it fast," Nikolai says. "He's already got half of the lower city's supply chain under his thumb. If we don't act now, he'll start bleeding us dry, one territory at a time."