6. Titus
TITUS
Afull week has gone by and the Aristovs have yet to show up, which, honestly, is disappointing in more ways than just being a loose end. I was looking forward to whatever attack they were supposedly planning.
I’m beginning to think that they chickened out. Probably left the city. Maybe even the country by now. I haven’t gotten any report of seeing them board any planes, trains, or buses. Then again, they are Bratva born. If anyone could figure a way out of being seen, it’s likely to be them.
I’m also a little disappointed that I might not have a chance to catch that rare bird that is Marius’s daughter. Something about her stirs something within me that I thought died with Angela. I was looking forward to exploring it.
The meeting is going just as I imagined it would.
The discussion has turned from the latest updates with the remaining Penzas to the matter of dividing up territory.
All ten of the stragglers have been dealt with, so, save Aristov’s children, Marius Aristov’s Bratva is effectively dead and their territory is ours now.
The Archangels’ reach has now spread to the entire east side of the city.
If we keep going, we might actually achieve a thing that my mentor only dreamed of. A full city takeover.
“I don’t understand why it must be you,” Lev, one of my Brigadiers, says. “We are closest to the northeastern part of the city. By rights, it should be ours.”
Cyrus rolls his eyes and says, “Your trade is in pussy, Lev. And that territory is gangland country. We need an expert on arms and drugs. Not a new strip club.”
“Don’t talk down to me, Cyrus. I have been in this Bratva since before you were born,” Lev blusters, a large vein poking out on his wrinkled forehead. “I have more knowledge right now about arms and drugs than you will ever live to learn about.”
“I’ll talk to you however I like,” he responds cooly. “You don’t frighten me, Lev. I’m not one of the whores in your stable.”
“Enough,” I say. “I’d like to get through this with the minimum amount of bickering, thank you.”
They both clam up, but not without giving a silent warning glare to one another. This is normal. If my men didn’t bicker like schoolgirls, I’d think they were plotting against me.
“Bickering notwithstanding,” Ignat says, “Cyrus is correct in that the Northeast side is gangland country. If you want that territory so badly, Lev, I have to question why? You may have some experience in arms dealing, but when was the last time you’ve made any deals with any of our allies?
You don’t have a relationship with them. ”
He scoffs. “The same roughnecks that show up at the docks show up at my clubs. I have a relationship with them.”
Ignat gives me a side glance that says, Settle this. I sigh and say, “Answer his question, Lev. Why this sudden interest in branching out?”
He rolls his eyes like it should be obvious. Then he says, “It’s prime territory. And I have seniority—”
“Not to mention the girls at your clubs are getting long in the tooth,” Cyrus says. “No one’s interested in D-squad strippers.” His brother, Cyril, who sits next to him, snorts trying to stifle a laugh.
“Rotten whelps,” Lev mutters in Russian.
The twins turn their glares to him in unison. “Say that again,” Cyril says.
“Is anyone interested in what I think about this?” I say, snapping them all back in line.
The brothers sit back in their seats and Lev turns his gaze toward me.
“Lev, as much as I appreciate your attempt to take initiative and branch out, I’m afraid we can’t take the risk when it comes to our arms. I want someone with established relationships and experience in regard to making those deals.
Arms make up the bulk of the income for the Bratva.
Any drop in that cashflow would create problems, and I know you don’t want problems, especially from me, right? ”
Lev gets my meaning and backs off. He shakes his head. “No, sir.”
“Then it’s settled. Cyrus gets the Northeast region. And I’d better not hear anything else about it.” I look to both Cyrus and Cyril. “Am I understood?”
“Yes, sir,” they say in unison.
“Good. What’s next on the agenda?”
From there, we go through the rest of the territorial division.
In my mind, it’s all quite simple. I’ve had years to decide which of my brigadiers would take over which parts of town.
Letting them throw in their hats is always interesting, however.
It lets me know who’s looking to move up in ranks and who’s comfortable.
That little show of initiative from Lev may come in handy in later prospects.
In my time as Pakhan, I’ve only had to do this twice. Two other rival Bratvas have fallen since I took this role. One Bratva we absorbed and the other we wiped off the face of the earth. Both experiences were necessary points on my mission of revenge as well as making us a much stronger Bratva.
We are large and more widely feared, a sign of a good leader in this game. But none of that matters more to me than knowing that Marius is dead.
We come to the end of the meeting and Cyril asks, “What about the Aristovs?”
I pause. “We covered this already.”
“Yes, but I was wondering if the directive has changed. Do you still want them taken alive?”
I’m a little annoyed by this question. I don’t repeat myself. “If the directive has changed, you will be the first to know it.”
“I only ask because the situation seems to have changed. We can’t allow them to leave the city or elude us in any way. A message needs to be sent.”
“And it will be. Do you doubt that, Cyril?”
He smiles stiffly, his eyes darting over to his brother cautiously. “Of course not, sir. I… I was just making sure that I don’t overstep.”
That’s, at least, a partial lie. Cyril’s itching to kill them. He’s much more bloodthirsty than his brother is. I know he wants to be the one to kill them, if for no other reason than to get his rocks off.
“Don’t be so fucking eager, Cyril.” I give him a sly smile. “You’ll get your chance at them.”
His stiff smile relaxes. A little encouragement and he’s sated.
I close out the meeting and as everyone files out, Ignat asks, “You do still want to be the one to take their heads when they are found?”
“Not you, too, Ignat.”
He shrugs. “Just asking. I know how important this has been for you. I also know how much of a hard on Cyril has for killing. He’ll be… disappointed if you get the killing blow.”
“Don’t worry about him. I know how to handle his kind.”
He scoffs and rises from his chair. “I’ll let you know once contact has been made in the new territories.”
“Thank you.” I watch him go and relax in my chair for a little while.
This meeting room has seen a lot of Bratva discussions.
The walls are all wood paneling with commissioned paintings of Pakhans past in some of the most ridiculous settings.
My predecessor’s painting hangs to my right.
He was a heavyset man with a shock of white hair.
In his painting, he’s wearing armor and standing on a battlefield, smoke and bodies littered behind him.
I’ve never had mine done. It’s a vanity I’ve never felt the need for… and one that I’d hoped would include my son… and perhaps a wife. It seems sentimental and quite unmanly, so if I ever did such a thing, it probably would not hang in this room.
At least as I stare at the portrait of the man who reared me into this underground world, I have something to remember him by.
Little else remains of him since his death.
He asked that it all be burned in a pyre so that I could start my reign clean.
All that he left me, other than this title and money, was this house, a few furniture and decorative items, and a single gold signet ring that I keep in a drawer in my office.
But I can gaze on his face again. He was as close to a father as I was ever going to have.
There’s a soft knock at the door. “Come in.”
It opens and Natalie peeks her head in. “Is everyone gone?”
I nod. “You can speak freely.”
“Luka is asleep in his room,” she says. “He tried to wait up for you again.”
That makes me smile. “Of course he did. Couldn’t quite make it, hmm?”
She shakes her head and with a smile that brings color to her rounded cheeks, she says, “He’s a fine, beautiful boy, sir. As fine as one I’ve ever known.”
“I wholeheartedly agree. Are you headed to bed?”
“I will in a while. I have an errand to run that I couldn’t get to during the day. We’re out of milk for the morning. I want to get to the convenience store before it closes.”
“I can have one of my Sixes do that,” I say. “No need for you to go walking around alone in the city this late.”
She waves me off. “I grew up in the roughest part of this city. I can handle myself, Mr. Malkin.”
I don’t doubt that. I stand up and say, “Let me at least walk you to the door.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
I escort her out of the meeting room and down the halls toward the house’s center and the front door. It’s deathly quiet in the house now that everyone is gone. As she walks next to me, she says, “I was thinking of taking Luka to the pool tomorrow.”
I frown. “We have a pool.”
She laughs at that. “Mr. Malkin, Luka is seven years old now and he doesn’t have any friends. The boy needs community outside of… well, outside of this. It would help him socially.”
And so this same age old problem rears its head again, and I’m not unsympathetic to it. I know she’s right and I’ve known that this day would come. I guess I just wasn’t ready for it.
“I hear you,” I tell her as we walk into the foyer. “Ask me tomorrow. I’ll sleep on it and give you an answer then.”
Her jolly smile tightens slightly, but she nods in acceptance. “All right. We will revisit this then.”
I walk her to the door and she pauses right before it, turning to me. “Incidentally, he would love it if it were you who took him instead.” I start to respond and she puts a hand on my chest. “I know. But you’re a man who can move mountains if you want. Just think of a way. That’s all I ask.”
“I can accept that, Natalie. Good night.”
She opens the door and says, “Good nigh—”
A shot rings out. Warm blood splatters my face as her head jerks back. She falls backward into my arms as blood spurts from her throat.
Shit… we’re under attack.