Chapter 7 #2
“Are you suggesting we purchase various stocks?” I asked, immediately thinking of what Saige had told me.
“I am. You’d be surprised how much money can be made with the right financial advisor working with you.”
When he sat back, I was surprised he was staring off into space. Whatever was on his mind had rattled him more than I was used to seeing. The was no love lost between us, but I’d learned to appreciate his methods.
“Why are you telling me all this, Sean? As a warning?”
“Yes, mostly. I assure you even our limited business activity together has been noticed. If he wins the election, then he’ll be eager to make a statement about his new authority immediately. Taking over another syndicate will pave his way into the history books.”
“Are there any contenders?”
“There’s one, another young man enshrouded in mystery. However, we’ll see how the polls are reacting as they get closer.”
It was fascinating that the world of crime syndicates was being run like American politics. I wasn’t certain I liked what I was hearing. “Let me ask you a question. Did any of your informants get wind Mikhail clawed his way back into town?”
His laugh was far too practiced. “So you’ve heard that rumor?”
“We pay attention.”
“Yes, well, your traitorous brother does like playing ghost, showing up when he’s least expected.”
Which meant I should have more confidence in the rumor.
“Understood. I believe you know Kazimir well enough to know he doesn’t consider the Armenians a threat. However, he will pay handsomely for any information leading to Mikhail.”
“Maybe he should worry about the Armenians. They are easily persuaded. They go where the money and power goes. Besides, he doesn’t live here, barely here once every few weeks. Neither is Kirill, his travels taking him all over the world. You are.”
Was he suggesting Mikhail would try to use the Armenians against both the Bratva and the Irish?
“Is this your subtle way of telling me my life might be in jeopardy?”
His smile was followed by yet another lift of his glass. Was his hand shaking? “You are currently considered the man holding the keys of the Bratva. Even the other Russians are afraid of you. Although, you’re aware there’s another Bratva organization in town.”
I nodded. We’d been privy to a couple of skirmishes, the smaller group controlling Brighton Beach, an area of town filled with Russian immigrants. “A fascinating suggestion.”
“Nothing more than the musings of an old man. However, if the Armenian is elected, which could occur as early as in two weeks, one of the first items on his agenda will be leveling the playing field. Keep in mind they are not immune to their own alliances no matter how they are formed. And they enjoy eating their young to gain additional power.”
My thoughts immediately drifted to the beguiling Saige. A prickle in my mind stirred. Interesting.
“As I would do.” He wasn’t looking me in the eye or even in my direction. It would appear he was worried about his future. “Who was in the ring tonight?”
“In my world we call him a sleeper cell. He was in my employ for four years. Four years of treating him like a son. Then I learned he’d been stabbing me in the back, providing intel to the Armenians. His death will send a warning.”
He’d cared about the young man. Seeing the anguish on his face was another reminder that caring about anyone was a dangerous if not heartbreaking situation. While physical pain meant nothing to me, tolerable no matter the circumstances, emotional pain I had no desire to experience.
While I should feel anger that he’d dragged me into his shot across the bow, I understood why he’d wanted someone not in his employ to handle what had to be done.
“I’ll keep your forewarning in mind, Sean.”
What he had done was add credence to Dimitri’s concern about the man working at the hotel. Perhaps I’d need to have a conversation with David Petro.
“I expect you will, Stash. You’re an intelligent man.” He twisted in his seat, the moment of reverence with his loss shoved aside.
He knew enough about me to realize I’d keep his warning in the back of my mind in the upcoming days, weeks, or even months as I continued expanding the Bratva business.
He was no fan of Dimitri, the feeling mutual, which was one reason that until Kazimir had been lured into New York with promises of additional power and wealth, the friendly connection hadn’t been considered.
While Dr. Vivian Hamilton, Kirill’s new wife had noble Irish blood running through her veins, she wanted nothing to do with her uncle’s regime. She’d made that clear on dozens of occasions. Only our mutual aspirations kept our tenuous alliance at an acceptable level.
“One last question. The card girl is different tonight. Who is she?”
He grinned. “Are you interested?”
“I don’t like change.”
“You don’t need to worry. Patrick handles the girls. I have nothing to do with them, but I trust his judgment. You can ask if you’re interested.”
“Maybe I will.”
Or maybe I’d check myself and determine if my intuitions were correct.
I headed to where I’d changed my clothes, the room secured by two of his men. I had no intention of volunteering my soldiers. In addition, announcing my extracurricular activities wasn’t anything I was interested in. The less anyone knew about me the better.
And the more intense the rumor regarding my capabilities grew.
With a single nod, the guards moved away. Once I had my weapon in my hand, I couldn’t care less about their security. I checked to ensure my Sig Sauer hadn’t been tampered with and proceeded to change clothes.
The corridor wasn’t filled with people, only a few allowed in the area especially when Sean made an appearance.
Every sound in the dark basement had been registered before, every room noted in my brain.
I didn’t tolerate surprises, which was why I’d mentally created a drawing of the entire facility in the back of my mind.
That was the reason I bristled as soon as a different noise was heard through the vent of the HVAC system.
The room was connected to the one next door, another dressing room that was used by other entertainment.
Tonight that meant the card girl.
The thud wasn’t anything anyone would pay any attention to.
But I did. Someone had been pushed into a wall.
With my weapon in hand, I opened the door just a crack, ensuring there wasn’t anyone standing in wait.
Times like this were when I was glad that I sat behind a desk ninety percent of the time.
Even Sean’s most trusted men hadn’t been privy to my real identity.
I eased out the door, checking the corridor. There was no sign of anyone. I crept against the wall and once by the door, I took a few seconds to listen to what was happening.
Another thud was followed by something being pitched.
The damn door was locked. As if that would stop me.
Taking a step back, I kicked in the door.
A struggle was ongoing, some asshole in a suit pinning the girl down on the dressing table.
To her credit, she was grabbing anything she could get her hands on, smashing makeup and bottles of hairspray and perfume against his face.
His grunts were louder than before, blocking out other noise.
“Come on, sweetheart. Little flirtatious bitch. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” He was slurring his words, which would indicate a guest who’d managed to slip past the guards, hormones fueled by alcohol.
It wasn’t unheard of and potentially a plausible excuse except for one thing.
With the way the girl was fighting him, his suit jacket had been ripped halfway off, revealing a weapon in a holster. Weapons weren’t allowed inside the club.
I had my fingers wrapped around his neck in a flash, yanking him backward easily even given his size. While I was taller, he had a few pounds on me. But where mine was all muscle, his were from spending way too much time overindulging.
“If you try touching her again, there won’t be enough pieces left to claim a body.”
“Fuck you, prick.”
“Wrong answer.” There was no accent, at least nothing discernable.
With a brutal toss to the wall, he slumped to the floor.
I stomped on his hand, savoring the sound and managed a single quick look at the girl.
She wasn’t panicked as I’d envisioned she’d be.
While her eyes were open wide, her mouth was twisted in fury.
Clutched in her hand was a broken bottle, the jagged glass shimmering in the overhead light.
She was still in costume, yet to take off her stage makeup.
“Get out of here,” I told her. “Find a guard.”
She nodded and that was the last opportunity I had to pay attention to her. The asshole decided to come for more, managing a single jab to my abdomen while reaching for his weapon. I sensed her continued presence, sharp grinding electricity popping in the air.
I threw several brutal punches, knocking the man to the hard floor. Even after his head was smashed against the concrete, he kept coming.
His actions weren’t those of a drunk but one pretending. The attack had been planned.
Out of nowhere, there was a flash, the light refracting off the jagged glass just before the card girl jammed the bottle into the man’s neck.
His howl was a definite reward, her actions catching me completely off guard.
Who the hell was this woman? My momentary lapse of attention allowed him to get another jump on me.
Fuck me. He’d been trained in hand-to-hand combat, which ruled out everything but that he’d come here as an assassin or for the girl. The latter didn’t make any sense. It was more likely she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, interfering with an assassination attempt.
“Get out of here,” I yelled, finally getting her to break free of her hypnotic state. But as luck would have it, the moment she bounded for the door, so did he, blocking her exit.