Chapter 52
CHAPTER
FIFTY-TWO
Maxim
I was granted a meeting with the heads of the Irish and Italian mobs.
I supposed they were intrigued.
It wasn’t every day the son of the man leading the Chicago Bratva wanted to meet, but I was desperate. More than desperate.
Come find me.
Sia’s text message was in my head, and though she’d sent it to Lettie, she’d been smart. She knew Natan had taken my phone, so she sent her plea out to where I’d see it. To where it reached me, and my girl had been so smart. I knew exactly where she was, and, odds were, it wouldn’t be far from her brother.
What she’d done had been so brave and, out of both of us, she’d been the most level-headed. I’d just been so desperate to get her to safety. Because of that, her brother was placed directly in danger, and I couldn’t say I would have done things differently if the shoe had been on the other foot. I was confident I could get to Sia, but that was only the beginning of my battle. Natan wouldn’t let me take Sia or her brother without recourse, and my entire family would be watching our backs the rest of our lives trying to outrun Natan. This was a risk I was willing to take, but what I wasn’t had to do with potential backlashes from the other organizations. We tended not to step on each other’s toes, but going against the Bratva’s pakhan wouldn’t be smart.
I needed insurance.
I planned to get that when I was patted down for weapons. I didn’t bother bringing any, and if it came to it, I knew I wouldn’t need them. I could get myself out of virtually any situation unarmed, but I did leave everything I could with Lettie. We met at our rendezvous point and, currently, my daughter was on her way out of the country. She hadn’t agreed with that, but she couldn’t be around for what happened next. She took Polly with her; I knew Sia would want that.
The next step was Sia, her brother, and potentially Val, who I hadn’t heard from yet. Val never checked in, but in this case, no news was good. If she’d been killed I would have heard about it through my own sources.
“Maxim Petrov.” Ronan O’Flaherty, the head of the Irish mob, was an old man with a heavy accent. He had roots in Chicago well longer than the other families in this room. He put his hands together. “I think we’re both surprised to hear from you.”
My gaze traveled over to the third party of our meeting. Emiliano Costa wasn’t a friend, but we were around the same age. Because of that, we tended to see each other at clubs and various social engagements around town. He wasn’t technically the head of the Italians, but he currently represented them. He was here on behalf of his father who was currently ill, and that was widely known.
It was also known that his dad was most likely on his last legs. He’d battled cancer for decades, and it was finally catching up with him in his old age.
“Maxim,” Emiliano said as he gripped my hand. It was extra tight and reminded me of our other tie: our kids were dating. Neither one of us was happy about it.
Emiliano let go. “We are surprised.”
“Especially since it sounds like you and Natan are on the outs,” Ronan stated, puffing smoke from his mouth. He stepped over to me and shook my hand as well. We were meeting in the back room at one of his pubs. He pointed his cigar at me. “I’m surprised to see you alive and without a bullet in your head. I know Natan is your father, but you also know how heavy his hand is.”
I did, and my adoptive father had ruffled more than a few feathers since he’d taken over after the Novikovs. In fact, Natan was one coup away from starting a war between all the organizations with the amount of bloodshed he orchestrated. Not to mention the mysteriously missing members from both the Irish and Italian organizations. Nothing could be traced back to Natan of course, but everyone knew Natan did a lot to establish power.
And not everyone agreed with it.
I’d been one of those people, but he was my father. I picked and chose my battles when it came to him.
Ronan invited me to sit, but I remained standing. I lifted my head. “I’m going to make this meeting quick, gentlemen.”
“I hope so. I’m late for another meeting,” Emiliano barked before he began laughing. His meeting probably consisted of a few whores, but who was I to judge? “Tell me why I should be late for you.”
“I’m here to make one request.” I peered between the two men. “I am at odds with my father, and if I act on him, I’m humbly requesting no interference from either of you.”
Both men’s eyes flashed, but they shouldn’t be surprised by this request. They knew my father wasn’t happy with me.
“You want us to do nothing?” Ronan asked, and Emiliano studied him from behind an amber glass. Both men were sitting and peered at one another. Ronan’s eyes narrowed. “And why would we ever do something like that? We have a great relationship with Natan, and not doing anything could create conflict.”
There were ways in which all the families ran, and to keep order, we had alliances. It kept us all protected. So if I did come at my father, that would mean actual war with the Irish and Italians. They’d go to war against me alongside my father’s organization.
That wasn’t something I was willing to subject my family to, no matter how good or how confident I felt about making us disappear. I didn’t plan to kill my father, but I would if it boiled down to it.
I guess I really was his executioner.
He’d given me no choice, and I wet my lips. “Because I know for a fact that two of the youngest members of the Novikov family are still alive.”
Ronan stopped smoking, and Emiliano stopped drinking.
I nodded. “They are, and if you do nothing, I will help enact plans for a takeover in which the Chicago Bratva and your organizations can work even closer together.”
Ronan was sitting up now, and Emiliano was looking at him. A ring of shock rounded Emiliano’s eyes from across the table, and I wasn’t surprised. The Novikovs might not have been favored by many when they’d run things, but they did have sympathizers. Many of those were amongst the Irish and Italians, and Natan only made that sympathy stronger when he got so heavy-handed. My adoptive father had stepped on a lot of toes since coming into power.
“You know for a fact there are Novikovs alive?” Emiliano asked, and I nodded. He started to say something more, but Ronan raised his aging hand.
“Even if you do,” he said nonchalantly, but who was the fucker fooling? His eyes lit up so big at just the thought of taking my father down. Again, my dad had been heavy-handed. “Who’s to say Maxim can get the Novikovs to agree and execute a takeover.”
“One is my fiancée,” I said. Both men looked at each other. “She and her brother have been taken by my father. It was a direct shot at me and one I can’t forgive.”
“Hence why you don’t want us to act if you confront him.” Ronan rubbed his trim beard, his nails pulling through white scruff. “I’ll tell you what, Maxim. You have something here. If you do as you say and get the Novikovs on our side…”
“No action will be taken,” Emiliano stated. “At least by my family.” Ronan nodded his agreement. Emiliano faced me. “That is, if you do what you say.”
That was one worry I didn’t have. Sia knew nothing of this world, and I didn’t want her to be a part of it. I’d respect what she’d want to do, but I think we’d both agree neither one of us should be a part of it anymore.
Come find me.
I’d caused her a lot of pain, and though I didn’t know our future, I knew she’d have one.
Even if it was without me.
The potential of that made me swallow, but her life, her safety, was bigger than me and my happiness. I would get her and her brother out. After that, whatever she wanted to happen would.
“You won’t have any worries,” I said, and both men nodded.
“All right, Maxim.” Ronan sat back. He put out his cigar, then leaned forward. His eyes narrowed. “You have one shot, and, if I were you, I wouldn’t miss.”