Chapter Four
In which the Morozov brothers enjoy drinks and plotting world domination at the most notorious sex club in Manhattan.
Roman…
"If I didn't know any better, I would suspect Roman is actually thinking," Alexsey says, idly rolling a pair of dice between his fingers.
Dmitri's eyes grow wide in faux surprise. "Yes little brother, it almost looks like he's having some sort of a dilemma."
"A moral dilemma?" Alexsey gasps, before they burst into laughter.
"That's something that neither one of you will ever accuse me of," I say, looking around the room.
It's still early for Sinful Secrets to be open.
We're in the main room, it looks almost benign, long gray suede couches and an enormous bar stretching across one wall, where people gather before scattering off into the dark pleasures of the club.
"Let's get this over with. While I am enjoying watching Roman's agony as he attempts to circumvent his non-existent conscience," Dmitri says, "I need to get home to Ava and Lev."
"Who could have imagined, Dmitri turned into a family man?" I shake my head. "To be honest, I thought you were going to be one of those sad, elderly Pakhans that would have to be forced into marriage at the age of fifty so that you could deliver offspring to continue the Morozov lineage."
Scratching the back of his neck, Dmitri half smiles. "To be honest, until Ava, that's what I thought too. But back to business, because I'm not interested in sitting here in your sex club once the clothes start flying off and tab A is fitted into slot B."
"I don't know," I attempt to look concerned. "Married life seems awfully dull if you're describing it in tabs and slots. Are you sure you don't want to stay and pick up a couple of pointers?"
Alexsey nearly chokes on his drink, trying to swallow and laugh at the same time at the look of outrage on our brother's face.
"Back to your moral dilemma." Dmitri tries to take control of the conversation again. "Tell us what you're struggling with."
"We haven't finished business," I deflect. "We should talk about the cartel and the shit fentanyl they've been running through their clubs. They're not in our territory yet, but they get stupider and bolder every day."
"I think you'll find that won't be a problem soon.
" Alexsey examines his fingernails. He has long, graceful fingers, and competent hands.
My little brother is as good at stabbing someone as he is at painting a masterpiece.
"I hear that tragically, their next shipment is as good as gone.
Morales had to move his shipments clear up to Maine.
I have the dock coordinates and the day.
The police have been alerted to expect a call.
Detectives Michaels and Connor always appreciate a little something from us, especially since that last bust earned them a commendation. "
"It's deeply ironic that the Morozov Bratva has to do their crime fighting for them." Dmitri frowns. "But a reciprocal relationship with law-enforcement is always useful. Well done, Alexsey."
Alexsey nods graciously.
"Back to you Roman." Dmitri is gifted with an unerring ability to laser focus in on a perceived weakness or vulnerability and exploiting it, even if it's a member of his own family.
Especially if it's a member of his own family.
He knows I don't want to discuss this. And I know he's not letting go of it.
The servers are beginning to circulate through the reception room.
"You two sure you don't want to stay for dinner?
" I deflect again. "I poached Emil Schmit from Decorous in London.
" I hold up two fingers, wiggling them. "Two Michelin stars.
Two. I don't want to brag, but his lobster stew is delivering more orgasms than the rest of the club. "
"That's a sad talking point for a sex club," Dmitri shakes his head.
The improbably named Angel, a fiery redhead with multiple piercings, strolls by me with a wink, but my mind goes back to the prim tidiness of Violet's little office.
"I had an interesting request," I admit reluctantly. "It was the night of the gala. I was approached by a civilian for a hit."
Dmitri put down his drink. "A civilian who knows enough about you to be clear this is your area of expertise?"
"She's a funny little thing," I chuckle, shaking my head. "She dressed up as a server that night to get my attention and lured me outside into the gardens. I thought I was there for a quickie, but she slapped my hand away, telling me she 'wasn't here for that'."
Alexsey heartlessly bursts into laughter. "What a disappointing night. Oh, by the way, if you're curious about my date, we did make use of the library in the castle."
"No one needs to hear about your seedy adventures," Dmitri says sourly. His chilly gaze goes back to me. "Go on."
"I did a quick background search on her target today." I loosen my tie. I feel itchy, restless in the confines of my expensive suit. This usually means I'm ready to inflict a round of violence on someone deserving.
"She wants me to take out her stepfather. He's middle management at a venture capital firm, and a pathetic son of a bitch, multiple domestic violence charges, he seduced her mother, and he owes the Italians a huge chunk of change. Violet is adamant that he killed her father."
"So it's revenge?" Alexsey asks.
"No, she's worried that her stepfather is going to force her and her sisters into marriage to pay off his debts."
"To the Italians?" Dmitri asks.
"No," I say slowly. "That's the thing that I keep circling around. She seems certain that her stepfather wants to marry them off to some of the senior management team in his company." I laugh reluctantly, remembering her expression as she described them. "She calls them The Chads."
Alexsey grins. "The Chads? Why am I picturing a group of country club assholes?"
"Yeah you have it," I nod. "But if this is a legitimate finance company, why would they be willing to risk something this close to enslavement?"
"Any venture capital firm in New York is far filthier than we are," Dmitri scoffs. "If they're entitled, rich bastards they might think they could get away with it. Still, this isn't your problem. You turned her down, of course."
"Of course," I snap.
Alexsey is watching me, twisting his glass slowly between his hands. "You want to take this job, don't you? A little freelance work?"
"Brother…" Dmitri is not unsympathetic. "I admire your concern, but this isn't Bratva business."
"Neither was Ava when you first found her," I shoot back. His jaw tightens and I know I'm pushing it. "And yet, that still put us into the middle of a human trafficking ring, didn't it? Not to mention the satisfaction of killing that fuck Will Grand for kidnapping Ava."
"Not the same thing," he insists.
Angel slinks up to the table. "Can I get you gentlemen anything to drink?" she murmurs, her tone sultry and dripping with sin. She gives me a salacious wink. "Or anything else?"
"No darling, we're fine. But thank you for asking." I pat her ass gently. Dmitri's polar stare is enough to make even the shamelessly salacious Angel step back with some haste and an awkward little wave.
"I think it's worth looking into," Alexsey says, surprising me. He's not a fan of going outside of family interests.
"Really," Dmitri asks, "Why?"
"You pull on a loose thread and you see what unravels," he shrugs. "This is probably just a cluster of asshole finance bros. But if they're buying women for marital bliss, isn't this the same as what Ava went through?"
Dmitri growls low in his throat. He hates being reminded of that horrible period in his wife's life before she literally fell into his arms escaping sex traffickers. "What do you want to do?" He looks at me and I arch a brow, surprised. He's leaving it up to me.
"The potential client - her name is Violet - seems certain something is happening next month.
A corporate retreat. That kind of potential isolation would make sense if they plan to set these girls up.
She has twin sisters, they're only eighteen and she thinks the stepfather intends to marry them off, too. "
Alexsey makes a face, like someone just pissed in his drink. "Eighteen? Iisus Khristos, eighteen is still a teenager. Let me know if you need help with the… What did you call them? The Chads?"
"I will." I slap him on the shoulder. "I'm going to poke around a little, pull on this loose thread."
Dmitri finishes his drink. "Keep me updated," he says before leaving quickly.
"He's obviously - and frankly - almost pathetically excited to get home to his wife and baby, isn't he?" I ask.
"I have to admit, Lev is a cute kid and even our terrifying father seems to be enjoying playing Grandfather Pakhan. He might've actually used baby talk with the little man at dinner last week." Alexsey chuckles. "I almost choked on my pelmeni, trying to keep a straight face."
He lingers a bit, idly flirting with one of the waitresses until the guests start flooding the reception area.
"Are you making the rounds tonight?" I ask. "You haven't been down in the dungeons for weeks."
"I'm tempted but no," Alexsey stands, stretching. "There's a couple of details I need to review about the Morales Cartel shipment. I want to make sure it's fiery and spectacular, and a complete disaster for the cartel. Then, I might stop by and visit Carissa."
"Was she the date that you ravished in the library at the fundraiser?" I ask.
"No, that was Laura."
"Yet another in your never-ending stream of dates."
"Really? You're going to judge me, you muzhchina-shlyukha, man whore? Your sex life is just as shallow." Alexsey pulls on his suit jacket, eyeing me disapprovingly.
"I date. Occasionally," I correct. "I run a club with dozens of spectacularly hot women willing to engage in all kinds of kinky shit. Dating seems like… effort."
"Oh, yeah, without the tediousness of meeting someone new." He pats my shoulder. "Every now and then, though, I must admit I'm impressed when you take a woman out. The helicopter ride around the Statue of Liberty at sunset? Very smooth."
"As I recall, you fell back on taking your dates to dinner on the family yacht for months," I remind him. "How many chefs did we run through?"
"Jacques' nervous breakdown was not my fault," he says defensively.
"I don't think your impromptu orgy helped."
Alexsey grins, the smug little bastard. "Aw, you're just mad because I didn't invite you."
Actually… I would have enjoyed the orgy. "I should block your access to the club, just to fuck with you." I snag his drink and finish it. "I never feel closer to you than when we're being spiteful pricks to each other."
Alexsey toasts me with his empty glass. "Back to this girl. What's your next step?"
"I'm not sure," I admit.
Unbidden, I see Violet's anguished face, her amber eyes, staring up at me imploringly.
I don't like it. Those wide eyes making me feel like I could be… heroic, perhaps?
The Vor of the Morozov Bratva deals in pain and death, not heroics.
I finish my vodka, slamming the glass down. I am no one's fucking hero.