4. Ben
4
BEN
L ev didn’t reach out to me again about the hit on O’Malley. In the days after his wedding, that night his father-in-law fell over dead at the reception, he failed to resume contacting me about the hit the Baranovs wanted done.
I didn’t expect him to follow up so soon. He was busy. With Eva as his new wife and this sudden death at the oddest timing, of course, he was busy.
But he wasn’t the only one busy about Boris Baranov falling over dead. I wanted to know what happened that night, too. Actively investigating it was my course of action.
And that was why I was under disguise as a waiter at an Ilyin-owned restaurant uptown. It was a perfect and simple cover to listen in on Igor Petrov and Geoff Ilyin, one of the leaders for that family. Those two leaders had come here to discuss the very same matter that was on everyone’s minds—Boris’s death. It had rocked the Mafia world, and no one would claim the death or admit they’d acted on murder.
“You didn’t have him killed that night?” Geoff asked Igor, his face stern and impatient.
“No.” Igor scoffed, smirking. “Why would I waste time putting a hit on Boris Baranov? He was a useless drunk with no power.”
Geoff nodded. “But you have wasted time putting other hits out before.” His smile was taunting and cruel.
“Oh, shut up.” Igor scowled, clearly displeased with this reminder.
“Only you would try to save money and hire amateurs to take out a Baranov,” Geoff said wryly.
“Yes, to take out Oleg. Not Boris,” Igor replied. “And it’s not my fault I tried to shop around.” He rubbed the back of his head, frowning as he seemed to think back to that time. “I couldn’t get ahold of that one militant, Warner.”
Liar.
Igor Petrov had contacted me and asked me to take out Oleg Baranov. I hadn’t made up my mind on accepting that job, though. Too impatient for action, Igor had instead gone to subpar amateur killers for hire—who’d failed. All they’d done was put a bullet in Rurik’s arm when he’d guarded his boss.
“We’re still not pleased about how things shook out with the hit we put on Lev Kvashnin.” Geoff lifted his chin and looked down at Igor. “The hit you agreed to assist us with.”
I remained ramrod straight, posing like the other waiters in the room. We were expected to blend in and be at the ready like slaves or butlers, it seemed, but I worried that we’d be expected to exit the room with this conversation continuing. I hoped not. I had to assume after this bickering that these two men would talk more about who could’ve killed Boris.
Igor shook his head, narrowing his eyes as he lifted his hands in a truce. “No. No. You don’t get to be mad at me. I told you before. I had nothing to do with Irina helping Lev escape your warehouse. I’ve disowned that bitch.”
“She helps Lev escape,” Geoff growled, “and then turns traitor to marry into the Baranov family. It looks awfully suspicious from my perspective.”
“Don’t remind me,” Igor snapped. “That ungrateful bitch is nothing to me. Nothing. She doesn’t represent the Petrov power.”
Geoff didn’t reply, still looking displeased but not pushing the matter any further.
“Did you try to have Boris killed at that reception?” Igor asked, as if he wanted to move past the topic of his daughter not siding with him.
It was Geoff’s turn to show an annoyed expression. “No. Why would I? Like you said, Boris is a waste of space. No one will miss him.”
“But do you think someone else could’ve had him killed?” Igor asked. “Another enemy who is trying to use him as a diversion?”
Geoff shrugged. “How would that work? No one would care whether Boris lived or died.”
Igor didn’t agree if his doubtful expression was any indication. “He’s a waste. Even Oleg would agree with that. But he’s still a Baranov, and killing any member of that family would be viewed as an attack.”
I thought so too. It didn’t matter if Boris didn’t have much power in the organization. He was still a member. But I didn’t suspect another outsider or other enemy of sending a message to Oleg with Boris’s death.
I’d become something of an expert with these Mafia Families, taking and passing on hits from all of them in the New York circle of crime. No one could call the Baranovs their enemies like the Petrovs and Ilyins did. Their antagonism was obvious, sometimes irritatingly so, but both loathed Oleg’s family above all else.
“Maybe so.” Geoff shrugged. “But I haven’t heard of any other organization scheming to bring down the Baranovs. Not even the Cartel, and they’re building up near the ports again.”
Igor slitted his eyes. His ruddy face reddened as he showed his fury. “But the Baranovs must be ended. I’ll be damned if Oleg Baranov remains in power any longer.”
Geoff nodded, sipping his coffee, as though he’d heard this like a broken record.
“I want the Baranovs killed. I want their power and reach reduced.”
Geoff nodded some more, dismissing Igor with a wave. “I know. We want the same thing, but Igor, you are worrying about nothing.”
Staying still, I tried my best not to look like I was soaking up all that was said. Incriminating plans were being shared here, and I was grateful to be this informed as an independent player.
“Worrying about nothing?” Igor spluttered. “How the fuck can you think this is nothing ?”
“Because the Baranovs will be ended. Their power will be cut down to nothing.” Geoff grinned slowly. “Eric Benson will see to it.”
Igor furrowed his brow. “The politician? That young Benson kid?”
“He’s not so young now,” Geoff argued lightly. “He’s all grown up, ready to go into office, following in his father’s footsteps. And like his father, Eric will prove instrumental in removing the Baranov power. He’ll side with us and make it impossible for the Baranovs to get away with anything anymore. He’ll have his agencies come down hard on them all.”
Damn. They never stop. It was no secret that the government was corrupt. Plenty of people in the courts and in the capital looked the other way when crime families were being charged. A little money deposited here or there, and things were taken care of.
“That’s not going to do anything quickly,” Igor said. “And that’s never a guarantee. Benson might say he’ll side with us, but until that happens, it’s all talk.”
Geoff shook his head. “Not this time. We’ve been playing the long game here, Igor. The Ilyins had the eldest Baranov daughter taken and held so she could be married off to Eric. Once a member of the Baranov family is part of the Benson family, they will have leverage and the ability to destroy the Baranovs from the inside out.”
Yeah, right. Again, I resisted making a face at his claims. Sure, arranged marriages were commonplace in the Mafia, and they could be used as a way to control or manipulate other families. But this was Oleg, and he didn’t bend to others. I had already noticed what a formidable man he could be.
“I’m not sure your supposed long game will pan out how you want it to. So you force a Baranov to be the politician’s wife. That isn’t a guarantee that this Benson guy would do anything we’d expect.”
“He would,” Geoff insisted. “And Eric Benson will also have the backing from O’Malley, the next governor to be sworn in.” His smile was smug. “It will all be fine.”
For you.
I followed the other waiters as they moved toward a coffee station. In this private room of the restaurant, intended for hosting secret meetings like these, the guests were served and pampered.
Moving on autopilot while I spied, I ruminated over all that was said. As an outsider looking—or listening—in, I could read between the lines.
According to what Geoff said, it seemed like this “long game” of having that daughter kidnapped to make her marry into the politician’s family would benefit the Ilyins. Only the Ilyins, not the Petrovs too.
For not the first time, I wondered if these two Mafia outfits would cancel each other out. They were both too eager to eliminate the Baranovs, but they weren’t actual allies with each other. That old saying about an enemy of one’s enemy being a friend could hold true, but in this case, I couldn’t believe that Igor and Geoff would actually be friends.
My hesitation seemed wise now. With how quick the Petrovs and Ilyins seemed to bicker and point fingers, it was smart not to be loyal with either of them. Both had been hiring me to do hits. Igor hired me to take out Yusef Ilyin, a drug dealer, but then Lev ended up killing him. Geoff and his family didn’t know that Igor was the man behind Yusef’s death, and if they did, I bet they’d put a hit out on Igor himself.
They’re all morons. I could only guess how long the Petrov-Ilyin grudges and scrimmages would last, but the one thing that remained constant was how the Baranovs didn’t fuck around with that nonsense.
Moments later, I filed out of the room with the waiters. I couldn’t linger in that dining room as a solo worker to hear anything else the two men would say, but I had a hunch I’d gotten all that I could from them.
As I left, I considered all that I’d learned. Most importantly, their attitudes further convinced me that I would do better not to take any more work from them. They were both going down, as far as I could tell.
But how much more work should I even take? I’d been at this for a long time. Killing was a solid career, but I was tired.
I was formerly in the military after being rejected by my Mafia relatives in Russia. Going independent had served me well. But now, as the big four-oh loomed near, I considered the option of not doing this alone anymore. Turning forty wasn’t a real milestone. My age was just a number, but somehow, it had been getting to me.
If I had to be honest about it, I’d admit that I wouldn’t mind settling and slowing down. I wouldn’t suffer from having a crew or team again, too. Backup would be nice if I wanted to finally make time for a wife and family.
Family? Now that I was away from the building and leaving the area, I felt free to huff out loud and roll my eyes. I was being ridiculous, thinking about settling down that much. Everyone was prone to midlife-crisis thoughts at some stage of their lives, but this was crazy talk.
A wife? A family?
I shook my head and stuffed my hands in my pockets. Neither of those fanciful things would make sense, not for me. No woman ever stayed on my mind for long—not like that sexy brunette upstate had.
I had yet to forget about her, but the more I thought back to how eager she was to lose her virginity to a stranger, insisting we didn’t share anything past our first names—which she could’ve lied about—I knew she wasn’t wife material. Sonya, as she’d claimed for her alias, had only been looking for a good time.
And it had been a good time. Showing her how to take what I gave her had been one of the sexiest experiences of my life. I’d never met a more responsive woman. Just thinking about her had me smiling and starting to get turned on.
But I’d never see her again. We’d made sure of that by keeping ourselves as strangers together for the night.
“Besides, I’ve got no time for that,” I mumbled to myself.
A woman? A family? Slowing down?
Nah. Not now.
Right now, I had to decide about the current jobs I’d been approached about, like O’Malley. Even Oleg Baranov.
Keeping my finger on the pulse of this antagonism between the Petrovs and Ilyins would require my attention too.
No time for a woman now.
It was time to get ahold of Lev, though. I had to make up my mind about whether I wanted to work with the Baranovs at all.