Chapter 21 Nadir
NADIR
“I thought for a moment that I was seeing a different side to you, bratan,” Leon says as soon as Jess disappears. “You know what they say—there’s two sides to every coin.”
“I’m not a coin,” I grumble, walking away from Leon, half tempted to slit his throat and bury yet another person close to me.
He shouldn’t be getting involved. But I’m responsible for these feelings—nobody else. I’m developing the same tendencies as before. And now I’m almost willing to murder Leon, a dear friend of mine for many years, because he’s suspecting me and Jess.
I’d never tell him to his face that I see him as a friend, but he really was the only person I related to when I first moved overseas.
I grab a coffee from the canteen and head outside. Jess will never want to speak to me again, but it’ll be best that way. I’ll lose her, either to Taro or to my own Bratva. Women aren’t meant for this world, and I accidently brought Jess too far into it.
A balmy breeze blows through the city. I shed my jacket and toss it over one shoulder, crossing the road and strolling down the sidewalk. I used to walk down these streets regularly as a kid, wanting to own a building myself.
I’d walk past the tailors and admire my reflection in the window as I lined myself up with the mannequin, seeing how I’d look in a three-piece.
“In your dreams, boy,” the owner had said when he asked me to run along.
Dreaming. That’s where it all began.
I walk down the street, admiring, not just my three-piece suit in the store windows, but my building. The glass cuts high into the air, and remains the only glass building in the city skyline.
The midday sun catches it just right, hitting the glass, making the structure look even more expensive.
I lived in Mattapan when I first moved here—a rougher area of Boston.
I lived two floors up from the ground. The plumbing system was terrible.
The toilet capped at three flushes a day, and there were always leaks.
The landlord didn’t give a fuck. I was legally an adult, but I still felt like a boy, and the landlord treated me like one.
I barely knew English. The Russian accent put a lot of people off, and the girls that wanted me were only interested in me for a night. They left without saying goodbye, like my own mother, presumably.
But why would any of them want to stay? Aside from being handy with a gun, I didn’t have much going for me.
Leon was the only friend I had. When I wasn’t necking whiskey in the bar with him, I was locked up in Mattapan working on creating something that would take the world by storm. I was better than my father. I was better than them all.
People would recognize me in the States, and they’d pay their respects. I wasn’t going to stop until I made it.
I pace down the streets, adjusting the cuff links that I bought as soon as my Bratva made six figures. They were worth three months of rent in Mattapan. I look back and recognize how far I’ve come.
But when exactly did I make it?
Unlike the toilet in Mattapan, there’s no cap on how much you can make.
I stick my hands in my pockets as I wander further down the street, suit jacket in hand.
I suppose Leon is only looking out for me. He’s the only one who saw how much hard work I put into building my empire. I sacrificed sleep. Put my life on the line many times before I could afford to hire assassins. He doesn’t want me to lose all of that hard work.
When you have kids and a woman in your life, you have to be extremely careful. Every time I’m in Jess’s proximity, I feel myself slipping. I’m not driven by success. I only have one motivation, and it’s to make her climax harder than the time before.
Women glance at me on the sidewalk as they pass by, smiling, holding eye contact, wanting me to approach them.
I keep my eyes forward and blank. I have no trouble doing that.
They’re not Jess. They smile and seduce, and test out different personalities until they find one that works, catering to my happiness.
They don’t challenge me or ask questions about my past. They see the suit, the polished appearance, and that’s good enough for them.
The novelty of having any girl I want wore off long ago. The only girl I truly want is the one I can’t have. And after this morning, she won’t want me anymore.
Problem solved.
My phone dings with a message. I slip the device from my pants, seeing a message from Jess’s line manager about how he’s not seen her this afternoon.
I take a big sip of coffee and turn down a side street. I’m not far away from home. I’ll walk. There’s a high chance she’s trashing my apartment right now.
I make a left between two restaurants. They’re business fronts. I see them everywhere. You become part of the Bratva and see crime everywhere you look. I’d love to see the world from an innocent civilian’s point of view. Ignorance is bliss.
Being in Jess’s shoes for a day would be nothing short of interesting. But I wouldn’t need to swap shoes. I already know her. I think we’re more alike than we realize. She’s lived her whole life not knowing the truth about her parents. I’ve always felt the same way about my mother.
Water drips from pipes as I enter the side street. It can’t be much wider than the condo I used to rent in Mattapan. Street noise disappears as I walk further in, the brick walls replaying my footsteps.
Years ago, I was down here in the dead of night dealing with clients who had outstanding balances. They never paid back. Thought they could get away with it because I was young.
But I took advantage of that. I let the men think they had the upper hand. I acted a certain way, played into the image they had of me, and acted dumb. If there was one thing my father taught me, it was to play na?ve and let people think they were winning.
Not only did it make it easier to actually win—it was satisfying. The look on their faces was priceless. I let them pin me to the wall, let them tackle me to the ground. And when they were getting ready to throw their first punch, I thrust my knife straight into their chest.
Back then, I had to clean the mess up myself, but it paid off. I stole their watches, cuff links, anything with high value, and put it all up for sale the next morning.
That’s how I became something huge.
But as I once told Jess, you have to play unfair to win.
I hear the sound of a gun loading and turn around. Looks like I have company.
I roll my eyes and pat my breast pocket, checking I still have my knife. I’ll keep it hidden for now. I’ll kill people when the sun’s up if I need to, but you’ve got a much better chance of getting away with it in the night.
I had to fight my way out of a murder case once. Can’t be going through that again when I have the Kozhikovs trying to undermine me.
I shove my hand into my pocket. I really don’t have the fucking energy.
“Thanks for the company,” I say as the masked man continues staring.
“But I think I’ll be okay walking through here alone.
Unless”—I narrow my eyes—“you want me to hold your hand. It can be quite hard walking through these alleys alone if you’re not used to them. The shadows can be quite petrifying.”
The masked man takes off, darting toward me. He’s an agile little thing with a lot of speed. He’d make it far as a sprinter in the Olympics. Shame he went down the Bratva route instead. It’s about to cost him his life.
I sigh and begrudgingly take the hand out of my pocket, closing it into a fist as the mudak comes at me with a knife. I punch him in the balls with force. While he’s wailing, I take the opportunity to disarm him, and flip the knife around.
He backtracks into the wall, and growls at me when he realizes he has nowhere else to go. I don’t waste time tormenting him. It’s dark down here, but the sidewalks are teeming with people. Anyone could take a shortcut and see me.
I lower the knife, rip off a bit of his shirt, and stuff it in his mouth so he can’t make any noise. Then I plunge the blade deep into his chest. I remove the knife only when his body stops moving, and let him slide down the wall, leaving a trail of blood on the bricks.
I wipe my hands clean on his clothes and pull out my phone, telling the cleanup team to get themselves down here.
“You make it look as easy as brushing your teeth in the morning,” cackles a voice in the distance.
I turn, my jaw clenched, and see Taro materialize from the other side of the alley.
Delightful.
I clean the assassin’s blade on his pants, keeping it in hand. I now have two. One for each hand.
“You only clean your teeth in the morning?” I grimace as Taro steps closer. “On second thoughts, yeah—it shows.”
Taro leaps forward, using the same strategy as his assassin. He barrels toward me all of a sudden and pins me into the wall a few centimeters away from his deceased man.
I flip him around and shove my knee into his groin, not like that’s gonna do much damage. There’s not really anything to damage.
“Guess who I spotted just a few moments ago?” he sneers.
I sigh unenthusiastically. “Enlighten me. Please.”
“Jess, standing outside of a kindergarten.” His smile widens.
I’ve seen a lot of vile things in my time. Dislocated shoulders. Heads separated from bodies. But I’ve never seen a smile so foul in all my years.
I want to rip it from his face, but I’ll do that later when Taro thinks he’s claimed victory. All he’s ever wanted is to be powerful. It’s only right I give him a taste.
“It makes me wonder who the father is to those kids.”
I tense. How the fuck does he know Jess has multiples?
That smile gets wider. “That’s right. She has triplets,” Taro says, changing his tone. “You know, it’s a shame. If Jess had let me fuck her, I would have reason to believe those children were mine. But she was never interested—”