8. Dimitri
8
DIMITRI
PRESENT DAY
On days like this, I miss Lizzie. She was an easy lay. A fun hookup and hot with it. Still, she’s been gone a couple of months now, and it’s best for her to be away from her life and starting over in Alabama.
The news I’ve received is a fucking nightmare, and I need to let off steam when I leave my stepfather’s study. We are facing an utter clusterfuck. Christ, I need a drink, or a fuck.
There are other women I can screw, but unlike many seem to believe, I don’t enjoy lots of casual sex. The same way that I don’t drink too much. I don’t smoke. I don’t eat sugar, and I take the skin off chicken.
My body isn’t exactly a temple, but it’s no dump truck either. I don’t put crap in it, and I don’t stick my dick in people indiscriminately. The women I have one-night stands with are rare, maybe every six months or so, and I always glove up.
Lizzie was an exception to the rule because it fucked with her husband so much and cemented my reputation.
Still, it is probably safest for Lizzie that she isn’t here anymore. Things are getting hotter with our enemies by the day.
If she were seen with me any more frequently, she’d be targeted by our enemies. If I take a woman as my own seriously, then I’d have to be all in, so she had my protection. No halfway measures.
I wouldn’t do that to any woman. The beast inside me is a murderous piece of crap and comes out to play far too often these days. I also have my biological father’s genes, which means I’d make a terrible dad if the note is anything to go by, so it seems like marriage and kids just isn’t for me.
Thank fuck right about now because someone is targeting us again, and I think I have a good idea who it is.
After they took my sister, the Greek and Russian gang split and merged into the underbelly of criminal life. Jacob asked me to join his business, and I couldn’t refuse. I’m his enforcer, but I’m more than that. I’m the heir to his throne.
I did my due diligence when I came on board. Particularly with relation to the gang who had attacked us. I kept tabs on them and made sure that they minded their own business, which they did, and things were quiet … for a time.
Then word began to spread about a large group, mixed but with a lot of Greek, Albanian, and Turkish members. They moved into new areas of crime, away from street level dealing and into bigger stuff. It isn’t a surprise. There are always new gangs coming up, but this lot’s DNA is interesting.
Back when Nataliya was taken, Jacob didn’t cut the head off the snake. Sure, I killed every motherfucker directly involved, but Jacob told me not to go after the others.
He wanted to deescalate because he only cared about keeping Nataliya safe. He put out word that the death of the ten who had taken his daughter was the end of it. He increased security, and now my mamma and my sister have twenty-four-seven guards. Three each, always. Armed and highly trained, these men are deadly as fuck.
The compound has five more men running the security, all reporting to me. There are always fifteen guards on patrol on the grounds. We have drones. Guard dogs. Fuck, Jacob would have land mines if he could get away with it.
Still, he created a great defensive capability, but by leaving remnants of the group who took his daughter alive, I always feared that one day, they’d cause us trouble.
It started the same way as before. Shipments being attacked. Issues with raids.
It has culminated in one of our own being targeted again. Another innocent. When our brigadier, Virgil, took out some of their men in a fight over our containers, they retaliated by taking his daughter, Mila.
Once again, one of our females is paying for our crimes. Mila is like a cousin to me. She’s a sweetheart and a shy, polite young woman. I also know she’s a virgin. Her family are old fashioned that way. If these men have her, then she is going to be terrified.
“How do you know this information is legitimate?” I ask my stepfather. It’s so similar to last time. Maybe it’s a ruse?
We’re alone, sitting in his oak-paneled study, which smells of wealth and power.
I’ll always respect Jacob and be thankful to him because he loves my mother truly, and he gave us a home and stability, but in this, in his leniency a few years back, I do believe he fucked up.
“It has come from a very good source. The Greeks in Athens.”
I frown. “The guys who are our sometime competitors? Wouldn’t they have reason to give us false intel? After all, if we were out of the picture, they could run more weapons here.”
We do a delicate dance with the Athenian group headed by Stamatis Kantos. We avoid running into one another or treading on one another’s toes. It’s like two nuclear armed states facing off. There are rules to the game we play, but that doesn’t mean one side won’t break them.
“No, son, they don’t want that. Stamatis is moving to being entirely legitimate, and he’s currently being groomed for high office.” Jacob rubs the back of his neck, the twitch in his right eye noticeable. A sure sign he’s stressed and pissed.
“Politics?” I raise one brow.
“Yes. Greek politics is messy as you know, and there are people who would very much like him to be in a future conservative government.”
“Okay.”
“So, you see, he doesn’t want to sell more arms here. Plus, his son-in-law, Damen, is very close friends with Konstantin Silvanov.”
I know that name. Anyone from our world does. He’s retired from this life now, though.
“One of Konstantin’s men is an ex-US Navy SEAL. A man named John, and he’s in love with Roze Muka. Gezim Muka’s daughter. It seems the men who have Mila have also been talking about Roze, and the Corfu contingent doesn’t like this. The help and the intel are very much legitimate. Our discussion was set up by Ilya from St. Petersburg.”
Ilya, I do know. We’ve carried out some deals together in the past before Russia closed her borders to so many. If they all say this intel is strong, then we must believe it is so. I look out the window as two armed men pass by on rotation, followed by a third, with a Belgian Malinois pulling at the leash. “Do we have an idea of how many men they have?”
“No. We will, though.” He smiles, and despite being worn and tired, it creases the corners of his eyes into a web of lines. “They’ve ordered champagne, caviar, and oysters to be delivered to the yacht tomorrow night, and I’ve ensured the delivery will be made by Katya.”
I smirk. “She’ll get all the information we need back to us.” What kind of idiots kidnap the daughter of a senior member of the Bratva and then decide that the place to hide is on a fucking yacht? In the bay. Like sitting ducks. Fucking assholes.
Katya isn’t part of our family, or our group, but she’s worked with us for many years. She provides the finest, most exquisite caviar and champagne to the elites of the bay area, and she is always happy to tell us who is ordering what, who is meeting where, and who is spending a fuck ton of money.
“I’ve told her to gather as much information as she can.” Jacob leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers, tapping them on his chin as he thinks.
“Once we know how many men there are, then we can come up with a plan,” I say.
“Yes, and you will have all the people as you need. This time, I will not show any mercy.”
He shakes his head. “You were right when you counseled me not to leave any of those men alive, Dimitri. You’re an excellent enforcer, and you keep our family safe, but you’re much more than that. You have an analytical mind, and you understand warfare in a way that I don’t. I should listen to you more.”
I brush off his words with a shake of my head, but we both know he should have taken my advice. We also know I respect him far too much to verbalize it.
“This time I won’t make any such mistake. You take the yacht as yours. And when we’ve returned Mila to her family, we will exact a terrible vengeance on any of the gang that remains. We will take their empire and dismantle it. We’ll keep their money, give the women they traffic their freedom, and take over all their real estate. Everything they touch will be either ours, set free, or burned to the ground.”
“Of course. I will make it so.”
“Live on the yacht for a while too. Ostentatiously.”
“You want me to live on the yacht?” Christ, I don’t know if that will be as fun as it perhaps sounds. Not in the bay. It can get fucking cold.
“For a short while. Post some pictures of you and the men on there, drinking their champagne, screwing their women, eating their food. Post it on Instagram for all I care. I want their end to be public and humiliating.”
“I can’t make it too public, can I? I’d end up in prison.”
“No. You won’t. The authorities want them gone. They might not like us, but they hate them. They hate the fact they’re moving women and fentanyl, and if we stop them, we’ve saved the Feds a massive headache. It would be years of meticulous work for them, whereas for us, we can simply go in there and shoot the little shits. No one is going to care.”
“Fine. I’ll take the yacht. I’m not fucking posting it on Instagram, though. As for the women, I’ll let them go. You said they’re trafficked, no?” I’ve done many things during my time as Jacob’s enforcer. Crossed lines I never thought I would. Hell, I erased them completely. But this I won’t do.
“Some, but these men do have girlfriends. Make them yours for a while. Or our mens’, at least, particularly the leader’s girls. Dorian, he’s called. You take his woman, or women, who the fuck knows, and parade them around on that yacht as yours. You hear me?”
“Like a Viking, pillaging with the best of them?” I frown, not liking where this is going.
“Yes, like a fucking Viking.” He bangs his fist on the table to emphasize his words.
This is not like him. He’s angrier than I’ve ever seen. My stepfather is as cold as ice, except for when it comes to my mother. He makes decisions with a steely calm, rational mind, not this anger he is seething with now.
“I’m not screwing Dorian’s girlfriend,” I say firmly.
“Did I ask you to screw her?” Jacob stares at me, defiant and angry. This is getting awfully close to us having an argument.
“I’m not going to force some woman into my bed, is all. I’ve crossed every other line I ever had. I won’t cross this one.”
“Oh, I’m sorry if I ruined your moral compass.”
“We both know you didn’t. I won’t fuck Dorian’s dirty leftovers, though, but I’ll make it look that way for any outside eyes on the situation. Okay?”
He nods brusquely. “Just make sure you do. I know about what you did with Leslie, so don’t act the innocent now. That was a genius move. If you take Dorian’s woman, you show the world that you’re a fucking Viking. Exactly as you said. Our very own warlord. Not only my heir, but my avenging angel.”
“Anything else?” I ask, discomfort stirring in my gut at the twisted rage painting his face.
I get it. He knows he screwed up last time. He went easy on our enemies, thinking it would keep his daughter safe, and it sent the opposite message. Now he is unmoored by anger, a pendulum swinging too far the other way.
“No.” He grimaces. “That’s all until I get more intel. As soon as I do, you’ll know.”
“Okay.” I’m turning to leave when he stops me with a hand on my arm.
“The guards who were on duty when Mila was taken. Have you dealt with them?”
“Yes.”
“They’re disciplined or fired?”
I stare at him. What does he think this is? The Apprentice ? “I cut their hands off, Jacob.”
For a split second his mouth goes slack in shock, but he recovers himself. “You did?”
“Yes, I fucking did. They failed. Now they can live with the knowledge of how badly.”
He swallows hard. “That’s um, certainly strict.”
Whose moral compass is shaken now, huh?
“Yes, they got complacent. They let a very important member of our family be put in harm’s way.”
“Not sure how good for moral it will be if the men think every time they fuck up they’ll lose a body part.” He shakes his head.
“They were hired guns, Jacob. Not part of our inside circle.” I blow out a breath. “They were fucking around. Watching porn on the monitors.”
His eyes narrow. “What the hell?”
“Yes. I did what was right. They screwed up, and they did it because they didn’t give enough of a shit. It wasn’t a genuine mistake. It was fucking laziness and horniness.”
“Well, then, in that case, I suppose what you did seems only right.” He smiles at me then, and it’s fond but confused. “Sometimes, Dimitri, I must admit I don’t know where your lines end and begin.”
“And that’s why I am so useful to have around because neither do our enemies.”
He nods. “True, son, very true.”
I give him a rueful smile and stride out of his office. This whole fucking headache is going to be stressful. I need a drink and to get laid. Lizzie really should be here. Still, I can always find someone to take the edge off at the club.
I lick a long, wet stripe up the sweaty back of the woman bent over the table in front of me. Music from the bar downstairs thuds dully through the floor, and I fuck her in time to it. I’ve already come once, but I need more. She’s moaning under me, her face turned to the side. Her hair is dark. Her limbs are long and lean. Right before a major event, I give into the buildup and let myself take a woman for the night.
Normally, I meditate, and I train, and if the urge gets overwhelming, I put on some porn and take care of things that way.
“God, yes, harder,” the woman moans.
I have no idea if she’s enjoying this as much as she’s making out, or if she’s auditioning for the role of my girlfriend. I ought to tell her the latter is a waste of time.
Not wanting to leave her unsatisfied, I reach around her and stroke her clit. “Hard or soft?” I ask.
“Soft on the clit, hard with the fucking,” she gasps.
I oblige her and grit my teeth to stop myself from coming before she does. She grips the edges of the table hard and cries out, and I let go as I fall over the edge into brief, glorious bliss.
Taking off the condom, I throw it into the trash. I look at the woman as she rights her clothing. She’s pretty. She’s only the second woman I’ve fucked in over a year too. Why can’t I find the desire to keep someone like her around for a while?
I kiss her goodbye and say I’ll call. She raises her brow and smirks.
“No, you won’t,” she says. “That’s alright. I knew what I was getting. You don’t call, ever. Women talk. You don’t do this often, and when you do? It’s one and done. I had a good time, and so did you, and all is well that ends well.”
She’s striking, and she quotes Shakespeare. “If I did have time in my life for anything other than work, you’d definitely be a second date kind of a girl.”
Her face grows serious for a moment. “I’d never second date you, darling.”
Her words surprise me. I’m a cocky enough asshole that I think most women would want to. I’m handsome, or so I’ve been told repeatedly. I’m also rich, dangerous, and I have a really big cock. “Why not?” I ask, curious.
“Because, sweet thing, men like you don’t live long, fruitful lives, and the next man I do more than this with”—she indicates the room behind us—“I want the date to have the possibility of something serious. I don’t need something serious with a man who is likely to get himself killed one of these days. Dangerous boys like you are fun . You’re not marriage material.”
“Damn.” I place my hand over my heart and stagger back a few steps, making her laugh. “Aren’t men supposed to be the ones who categorize women that way?”
“Equal opportunities, baby.” She grins at me.
I shake my head as she walks away, and then I turn back into my office above the glitzy nightclub. Down one floor is a place where the music and the dancing are a legitimate business and not merely a front for quiet meetings in back rooms where weapons are ordered and supplied.
Sitting at my desk, I stare out at the city. San Francisco . A den of iniquity and vice, love and purity, money, and intense poverty. She’s a beautiful, shabby, gleaming contradiction of a city.
And I fucking love her.
Built from the gold rush, a hotbed of immorality and impropriety that grew into a hub for tech and finance, and today, the kingdom my family rules over. This club is in the Soma District, but our home is on a hill, across town, in Pacific Heights where it borders Presidio Heights. Gated, guarded, and with high level security, in many ways it’s a million miles away from this area. In others, not so much. Greed, corruption, they run rampant everywhere. Much of human nature is grubby, some of it dangerous.
I watch as below, two police cars pull up. The cops get out, jog across the road and into the pizza place.
Pouring a whisky, I let myself relax into the beat as it filters muffled and deep through the carpets and floorboards.
In a few hours, I’ll leave to save what is ours. A young woman that stupid men took as a giant fuck you to the family.
They didn’t know who they were messing with.
I’ll be giving them a lesson in true pain and vengeance.
I smile as I drink.
Before I kill them, they’ll already be begging to be dead.