Chapter 4
Vissarian
When Ms. Zimmerman moved away, I chuckled.
What was the saying? All work and no play made for a dull, useless lump of a human being? Maybe I’d need to change that.
I made a drink before sitting down, listening to the sound of the engines roaring to life. I could spend a good portion of the day determining what made her tick, but sadly, there was business to consider. A trip that I wasn’t thrilled about facing me.
There were too many questions that needed answers.
I sat back, enjoying the drink, trying not to think about anything for a few minutes. I rarely had any personal space or peace, constantly working.
When the captain started to taxi down the runway, I pulled out my phone, dialing Mikhail’s number. My cousin was like a brother to me. We were very close, some calling us far too much alike for our own good.
“Don’t tell me. You missed your flight,” he teased.
“It’s a good thing you’re family and several thousand miles away.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’d beat your ass.” We’d been close growing up, exploring the streets of Las Vegas as young boys, getting into trouble just one of many enjoyable games.
Living in a Bratva household had created a sense of honor and respect, loyalty a requirement for the soldiers who’d worked for both my father and the then-Pakhan and my uncle, Boris Dmitriyev.
Things had been different in the early days, employees armed and dangerous, our business activities heavily involved in illegal drugs and weaponry. Mikhail and I had been trained to become assassins, ruling Las Vegas as we would a war zone, which was what we’d left in Russia.
Now we were businessmen and women, almost entirely legitimate. While fortunes had been made early on the cash enabling our empire to expand into resort and casino development, we were now considered one of the richest families in the world.
And the most powerful.
We’d recently formed an alliance with another powerful organization, a Sicilian Cosa Nostra, their history as long as ours.
Now we ruled the world of gambling, second to none.
That meant we still had our share of enemies on both sides of the law.
It made for very colorful interactions, but we were usually able to use marketing and stock options to win a fight.
However, our success in legitimate acts of business didn’t mean I wasn’t a trained killer capable of doing heinous deeds. I’d done more than I could count in my past. Not usually for sport or a lust for violence, but for the protection of my family.
Granted, there’d also been a period when I’d been considered rogue, killing indiscriminately, for vengeance. At least I’d satisfied the need for the stench of blood.
For the most part.
The thought always brought a smile to my face and it was a basic fact I teased members of the Costa family with.
They didn’t have the full understanding of why I hated Italians, something that I’d managed to temper over the years.
Which was a good thing, or I would have killed one or all of them in my sleep.
At least I was in a better mood than before, able to joke. Perhaps not only seeing but acknowledging and hungering for a beautiful woman meant I wasn’t as dead inside as I’d believed myself to be.
“Ha,” he said. “I’d like to see you try. Have you spoken with Ludolf Hoffman recently?”
Ludolf Hoffman, the German leader of the Hoffman Group. A contingency of Europeans who dabbled in business on both sides of the law, while not considered a crime syndicate given the makeup of their members.
Their reputation was still brutal and, in a way, they mirrored our organization using various alliances of their own. That didn’t mean I believed we should trust them. Just the opposite.
“Not since I confirmed the meeting three days ago. Remind me again why we’re considering joining forces with yet another organization? You know how I feel about alliances. Also remind me why the fuck you asked me to do this shit. You know how I feel about tropical locations.”
We’d formed one with a Cosa Nostra syndicate out of Reno.
Now we were intricately involved in each other’s business operations.
It was a thorn in my side, but I’d softened as of late.
Maybe I was getting old. However, the choice of entering into a contract together had been based on a different necessity.
One of family, since my younger cousin Liliana had fallen in love with the firstborn son, Giovanni.
A match made in heaven. Truly. A shocking development, but one we’d managed to use to our advantage.
However, the Costa family had nothing to hide. All skeletons had been laid out in the open.
At least with regard to business. We all had our personal lives, and certain lines that we dared not cross.
It wasn’t the same with Hoffman and his ruthless buddies.
They were definitely hiding details that if released would likely prevent us from considering an alliance.
My sixth sense insisted they needed something from us.
My radar was on fire, red flags all over the place.
There was no doubt they wanted something other than sharing in a business opportunity.
“Oh, come on. You haven’t had a vacation in years. I thought this would do you some good. Plus, we can consider a possible influx in business in European countries.”
Good for me? I avoided vacations like the plague. He knew why. Pushing me wasn’t the best thing to do under any circumstances. An ache had formed behind my eyes. The last thing I needed was some dramatic attempt at forcing me to face the past. He knew better.
“Uh-huh. I don’t like this shit.” I glanced at the cockpit, noticing the lovely pilot was talking with the tower. Yet every few seconds, she stole a quick glance in my direction. My cock pulsated even more from the thought.
Not that I’d have time to enter into something more pleasurable. I’d be too busy watching my back.
“Just relax. A couple days won’t kill you.”
“Why don’t you confess your sins, dear, beloved Pakhan?”
Mikhail laughed. “Fine. Hoffman asked for you specifically, which did raise some alarm bells, but he knows better than to fuck with me.”
“What? Why, and why didn’t you tell me before I agreed?”
He grumbled under his breath. “You do remember I am the Pakhan of this organization. Yes?”
My cousin rarely played that card, but when he did, he always had a reason, including locking me down so my anger wouldn’t get the better of me. “I’m well aware.” Active in illegal activities or not, no one was to ever question his orders. Including his family.
I could easily be demoted, the embarrassment worse than death.
“I don’t know why they asked Uncle Ivan to send you.
You know your father better than I do. When he sets his mind to something, there is no asking him questions.
If I had to guess, I’d say it has to do with past acquaintances.
What I do know is that the business opportunity appears on the up and up and maybe something we’d be interested in. Both our fathers tend to agree.”
I sensed he was as annoyed as I was.
“But you don’t buy a request out of the blue, do you?”
“Fuck, no. There’s talk of scattered alliances against the Russians back home as they are interfering with various European countries, invading territories.
There have been hundreds of violent deaths.
My calculated guess is Hoffman believes combining business opportunities will give the Bratva pause. Don’t quote me on that.”
“Just like what happened when we were children still living in Mother Russia. Neither patriarch would shy away from continuing the war that had almost cost them everything.”
And the very reason Boris and Ivan Dmitriyev, brothers who’d had their own factions of a Bratva, had been betrayed, members of their respective armies slaughtered in the streets.
As my mother would say, only by the grace of God and two hundred thousand American dollars did they secure a place on a cargo ship for both families.
Any opportunity to exact revenge they’d accept.
“Yes,” he admitted. “I’ve kept a close eye on what’s going on, but that doesn’t mean I’ve had any interest in getting involved. My father on the other hand…”
I whistled. Up to this point, there had only been one other Bratva who’d dared attempt to cross us.
They’ve learned their lesson and in turn, we’d expanded into Seattle.
Unfortunately, throughout the United States and other countries there were dozens of syndicates who had no business calling themselves Bratva.
“Yeah, I know. Pops would resume duties as a hired assassin for a cookie and a line of Russian pigs.” His favorite term.
“But you’re worried if we don’t consider this strange alliance, we could be just another victim of a Russian attack. ”
“Correct. The Hoffman Group has more power than anyone realizes. They are steeped in the old ways of former prominent warmongers. Plus, they have as much if not more money than we do. In some eyes, our recent battles with the Irish have created an aura of weakness.”
The Irish had been a past we’d been forced to deal with recently, Mikhail almost losing his life in the process. It had been the first bloody battle in years. Now we all knew it wouldn’t be the last. You could never run from your past.
Exhaling, I shifted in my seat, now more than curious as to why I’d been requested directly. “Little do they know what we’re capable of.”
“True, but I have no interest in an all-out war no matter what Uncle Ivan and Pops think we should do. I’m done with painting the streets in red.
Which is why we need to know what the Hoffman Group is offering.
It’s suspicious timing coming out of the blue.
Maybe they’ve heard something that could prove useful. ”
Out of the blue, and barely two weeks before. Their push had been the first red flag, but there had been others.