Chapter 2
ANTON
“Is everyone there?” I ask Mikki. He’s talking to me over the phone as I ride back from the airport. He’d wanted to meet me there, but I told him to make better use of his time and make sure all the brigadiers were gathered for my first meeting with them.
Talk of my becoming Pakhan has been going on since I became a brigadier. Probably before then. Maksim was the closest thing I ever had to a father, and being a Pakhan with no sons to consider, he treated me like I was his own flesh and blood.
I am enraged that he is gone.
I don’t think that his body was cold when the ripple effect of a change of guard started to come into play. In Russia, I had to move fast if I was going to honor his wishes and take over my new role. Fortunately, our sister Bratva is in support of my place in line. I wasn’t questioned there.
But already, I started hearing mutinous rumbles here back home. Mikki has kept me in the loop, identifying the true dissenters from the ones who just spread gossip. He’s taken care of those he knew about. Tonight, I plan on handling whoever is left.
He clears his throat before he answers me. “Everyone’s almost here,” he says. “Alexei just called and said he is on his way.”
“Good. I should be there momentarily.”
I hang up and lean back in my seat, watching the city go by. I’ve only been away for two months. Hardly enough time for anything to change, really. Same streetlights, same buildings, old and new. This territory is in need of some adjusting, but that will come later.
For now, all that matters is that Maksim’s death is answered for and I establish my rightful place within the Bratva.
The driver turns down one road and the city streets disappear.
I’m in the quiet suburbs on the outskirts of the city.
Gated communities and wide roads. Darkened streets with yellow lamps glowing along brick walls.
The place that I now must call my home is among these mansions. My inheritance awaits me.
We arrive at the gate, large and wrought iron towering over the car as it pulls up. It comes to life as soon as the headlights hit the bars and slides to one side to let us through.
There is a part of me that wants to enjoy some of what’s been left to me. It feels wrong, however. Even though Maksim wanted me to have these acres of land and this mansion with who knew how many bedrooms, I can’t enjoy the fruits of his lifelong labor. Not yet, anyway.
We move down the drive and I see all the cars parked one next to the other in the small lot, a few paces from the front door. Good. My car pulls up to the front and my driver gets out to open my door.
I’m not even all the way out of the car before I see Mikki coming down the stairs, my closest friend and sovietnik. I’ve known him since we were teenage vor v zakones. He greets me with a smile as he approaches.
“Brother,” he says in Russian. He gives me a firm hug and I have to admit, it feels good. This might be the first touch of genuine kindness I’ve had since Maksim’s death.
“I hope you didn’t have any trouble coming in,” he says. “I hear security’s tight at the airport these days.”
“I didn’t have any trouble,” I tell him. I nod toward the front door. “How do they look?”
“Frightened.” Mikki laughs. “I don’t think any of them actually expected you to return, let alone accept Maksim’s mantle. There was a rumor going around that your leadership wouldn’t be accepted over there, you know.”
“So you’ve told me.” I take a breath and start walking up the stairs. Mikki is right beside me.
“Everything else has been taken care of, if you’re interested,” he says. “The lease on your condo has been paid and all your belongings have been brought here. I can show you to the master bedroom after the meeting.”
“That’s fine.” I’m hearing his words, but they are barely registering. I’m too focused on what has to take place over the course of the next few minutes.
He leads me to the main meeting room on the first floor, past the living room area that’s the size of a hotel lobby, past the staircase wide enough for ten people to walk up all at once. When we get to the door, Mikki stops me.
“You should know,” he said, “No one here has openly objected to your place as Pakhan. However, there are a few who have been rumored to… have their doubts.”
“How surprising,” I say in a dry tone. “If they are smart, they’ll keep their doubts to themselves. Shall we?”
He opens the door and the meeting room where I’ve sat as a soldier for years is now before me.
The same long wooden table, hand-carved and brought over piece by piece from a carpenter in Russia.
The oil paintings of some countryside that I’ve never been and a bookshelf alongside the back wall filled with books, all of which I’ve read.
The high ceilings with the two chandeliers hold court over it all.
The table is filled with my brigadiers, captains waiting for their commander. I walk past them, observing their different faces one by one.
“Gentlemen,” I say as I take my mentor’s place at the head of the table. “Let’s get right to business.”
I don’t sit. I stand at the head of the table, observing all their faces as I speak. I’m looking for any dissent in their eyes. Even the slightest discontentment will be addressed right here and now.
“The Pakhan,” I say, “is dead. Maksim Balakin is no longer with us and I have been charged to lead as the new Pakhan. Before we go any further, if any of you has an issue with my new role, now is the time to speak up.”
The room falls silent. Each man either looks around at the others or adjusts his tie or cufflinks. They’re all waiting for the one fool in the room.
“I do not have an objection,” I hear from the left side of the table, “but I do have questions.”
Every eye turns to one of my brigadiers, Lev Andreev. Seated a few seats away from me, he stares up at me through his horn-rimmed glasses and bushy gray eyebrows. He runs the brigade in the south side of town.
“You have questions,” I repeat. “Ask them.”
“You were made Pakhan in Russia,” he says, narrowing his eyes.
“How are we to be sure that what you have said is true? Personally, I believe that it was Maksim’s wish for you to run this Bratva.
But how are we to know that all the right steps were taken to ensure your claim to his seat? How are we—”
I don’t give him time to finish. I step around the table and in just a few steps, I’m at his chair and my arm is around his neck.
He struggles as I lift him out of his seat, dragging him to the front of the room.
He’s smaller than I am, less muscular. He scratches at my forearm as I pull it tight across his windpipe.
With a jerk upward, I feel it crunch against my skin.
He gurgles and gags, still fighting though no air is entering his body.
I toss him to the floor as he crawls, grabbing at his throat, his mouth open, lips turning blue. I pull my gun out of my holster and aim it at his head, firing once to the temple and putting him out of his misery.
The air is thick with gunpowder as he lies dead and bleeding onto the wood floors. Mikki stands and walks out of the room. He returns with two of the soldiers directly under me to clean up the mess.
I lean against the table as they drag what’s left of Lev out of the room. Mikki gives the men orders at the door, then he returns to his place at my right side.
“Does anyone else have any questions?” I ask. No one speaks. “Good. Now that we are all in complete understanding about this new situation, let’s discuss our first point of business. Avenging my predecessor.”
There are no objections. Everyone is sitting at attention. My reign has begun.
“That was quite the introduction tonight.” It’s the first thing Mikki says as he brings me my drink.
We’re sitting in the living room of this house I’ve inherited.
Leather couches, a white bearskin rug, a coffee table made almost entirely of glass and a brick fireplace.
I’ve been sitting here looking around at the decor, debating whether I’m going to bother changing it even though it’s not really my style.
Mikki sits on the other side of the couch and sips from his own glass. “I knew Lev was shaky. Had a feeling he’d open his big trap tonight.”
“And as usual, you were correct,” I say as I drink. The whiskey tastes good. Smooth and sweet. Just the right thing for a night like tonight.
“Maksim would be proud, Anton,” he says casually. “He always used to say that the best way to let them know who is in charge is to let them know who is in charge.”
We both chuckle. “Out with the trash. The only problem now is that I’m going to have to cover Lev’s territory until we can select someone new. He dealt with the drug trade on the south side, correct?”
Mikki nods. “And pussy. Has a couple of strip joints and was managing the Firebird Club.”
“That’s right.” I used to frequent the Firebird. I’ve slowed down over the last year, though. “Wonder if Magda is still there.”
“She is.” Mikki snickers. “Old blyad will probably be there forever.”
I smile the moment I think of Magda. She was a rotund woman with a headful of curly, bright red hair and the biggest breasts I had ever seen when I was a kid.
When Mikki and I were teenagers, we dreaded being caught by her.
She’d grab us by the ears and drag us out, yelling at us in Fenya, “You want to see tits, go back and suckle on your mother’s! ”
“She probably misses me,” I say.
“Then you should pay her a visit. When was the last time you were there?”
I pause, thinking about it. “Probably after Kat and I split up. Spent some time there for about a week before I decided to let it go.”
I’m expecting Mikki to say something crass, but he doesn’t. He just swishes his drink around in the glass as he looks off introspectively. He notices me looking at him and goes, “What?”
“What’s this look about?” I ask him.
He shrugs a little. “It’s been a year since you and Kat. You didn’t meet anybody when you were in Russia?”
“I wasn’t looking. Besides, the women that I tend to attract are either more interested in my status or completely uninteresting.”
He smirks at me. “I don’t see how that’s much of a concern if you’re just fucking them.”
“I haven’t met anyone I’ve been interested in fucking either,” I tell him. “A woman who fits my intimate needs as well as stimulates my mind… I’m beginning to think she doesn’t exist.”
“Ah, well.” Mikki takes another drink, nearly draining his glass. “Speaking of your ex, I should let you know that she’s been very busy lately.”
I roll my eyes. That woman has been driving me crazy since we broke up. I thought after I left for Russia without a word to her, she’d get the hint. “What has she been doing?”
“Asking about you, mostly,” he says. “Also, bragging to anyone who will listen that once you return, you’ll take her as your Bratva queen.”
I nearly choke on my drink. “She’s lost her mind. I would sooner marry a stray dog.”
Mikki laughs, but I don’t particularly find this very funny. Kat really has to find another hobby.
“So, I can take that as a no in terms of getting back together with her?”
I glare at him. “If you ever hear of me taking Katerina back,” I tell him, “I want you to find me and put a bullet in my head because I am no longer mentally fit enough to run this Bratva.”
“Duly noted.” He chuckles.