Chapter 2 – Danil
“It seems like they exploited a weakness in our night security, Boss,” Pavel disclosed immediately after he entered my office.
“It seems or he did?” I asked, steepling my hands on my dark wood desk.
“He did,” he answered, his eyes looking away from mine.
Pavel was a smart soldier, one of the best. But his inability to look straight into others’ eyes in unpleasant situations was what I hated the most about him.
There was no close second. If I had only noticed it in his conversations with me, it would have just been right. I was his fucking boss, after all.
But I saw it even when he was talking to his fellow soldiers or strangers. It made him appear as a sorry excuse for a man, and that was why I rarely sent him out with the others. I would never give anyone a reason to see my men as anything less than formidable.
“He did,” I repeated, nodding. “And why is that?”
“Boss, the second—”
“Don’t fucking explain to me,” I cut in. “Someone got into the store room because some of your guys went lax. The only words I want out of your mouth are the name of whoever sent him.”
He responded with a brisk nod.
“And the guys that didn’t feel like doing their jobs right, give them meaningful reminders,” I added.
“Yes, Boss. I’ll be back with results before the end of today.”
“And, as for you putting too much trust in his guys instead of double-checking, I’ll decide what you deserve.”
He nodded again.
“Leave.”
“Hi, Danil!” Olga’s high-pitched voice sounded from outside my office door as Pavel stepped out.
“Boss?” Pavel inquired, turning around to face me again.
“Let her in,” I told him.
“Hi, Danil!” she singsonged, closing the door behind her.
“Are those the only words you know?” I asked, leaning back into my leather chair.
Her cheerful expression turned into a small frown as she rolled her eyes; I had a hard time identifying which one irritated me more.
“Come on,” she complained, claiming one of the chairs across from my desk. “I’ve not heard from you in a while, so I thought, ‘Why not come say hi and, you know, if he’s a good boy, give him some sugar?’ And here I am.”
“What are you here for?”
“I just told you, didn’t I?”
“You just told me what you thought, which I’m sure you know isn’t reason enough to show up at my place of work. You can’t be that delusional, can you?”
Her shoulders slumped visibly.
“Don’t be like that. I brought some homemade blini for you. What’s so delusional about wanting to pamper my man—”
“What man?” I cut her off. “Did we explicitly make any such arrangement?”
“Just pleasure, I know. But—”
“There are no buts,” I interrupted again.
“Fine. Back to the initial agreement, then.”
“There is no initial agreement, either. Not anymore.”
“What? Wh—are you kidding? I’m fine with it,” she rushed.
“Have a nice day, Olga.”
“Danil…okay, I’m sorry I overstepped. I won’t do it again, I promise.”
“This little stunt only tells me that you’re in need of a reminder. I’m not in the habit of rehashing agreements. They are two irreconcilable facts, you’ll agree,” I pointed out, shrugging. “So, would you leave or prefer my men’s help?”
She brushed her brown bob out of her face as she huffed. “You’ll come back,” she said, rising to her feet.
I pulled out one of the drawers beside my chair as she sauntered toward the door.
I sighed as I dropped the bound folder on my desk.
Situations like this had happened before, each one reinforcing my stance on relationships with women.
I grew up with the notion of women being valuable for sex and procreation. I believed they only looked a man’s way if he had money or good looks; I told myself that creatures like them didn’t deserve my respect or even the tiniest affection.
But I wasn’t so blind to the need for an offspring, an heir, in my line of business.
The plan, which was not to be actualized until I was ready, was to find a woman with whom to enter into a contract marriage.
She would carry my child and nurse him for a year before signing a no-contest divorce paper.
The inconvenience of living with a woman was a necessary evil in my quest to have a true, untainted Yezhov heir, not just an adopted child.
However, my opinion of women began to seem less of an irrefutable fact when my Yezhov brothers started not just looking, but also becoming happy after meeting their partners.
By then, though, I knew it was already too late for me to do a 360-degree turn; my cold treatment of women made me undeserving of such a chance.
Love, a feeling I only knew by reputation, was surely not meant for someone like me. I had never been in any type of relationship with a woman, and I couldn’t go through the trouble of learning. So, my plan remained intact.
The only problem with my sex-only principle was that I sometimes regretted meeting some of the women I had sex with. Women like Olga, who confused repeated sexual encounters with a relationship.
I closed the folder in front of me and stood from my chair. I needed to get my mind off this topic.
Groaning sounds hit my ear as I opened the door of the large basement space that served as the torture room.
“Boss!” Jerry, the soldier standing around the entryway, called out as he bowed in greeting.
The others turned around, giving me a clear view of the young man tied to a metal chair at the center of the room. Blood and sweat covered his shirtless body, and his long hair covered the sides of his face.
“Anything yet?” I asked Pavel.
“Not yet, Boss. He’s still acting tough,” he noted. “But he’ll spill soon. He has no choice.”
“Well, I’m here now,” I remarked, walking over to the stool by the far left of the room.
Picking up the screwdriver I needed, I went back to the chair.
“Look up,” I instructed.
He raised his head with less difficulty than I expected.
“Brief introduction,” I stated. “I’m Danil Yezhov, the Bratva boss whose warehouse you tried to steal from.”
I expected his eyes to widen in realization, but they didn’t. While the fear in his face was clear, there was no shock. And that meant one thing: he knew who I was. He knew exactly where he was heading.
“You’re not just an opportunistic thief, are you?”
“I’ll never come here again, I promise. Just—”
“Who sent you?” I asked, bending to his level.
“Nobody. I just wanted to make some quick cash.”
“Same thing the motherfucker has been singing all day,” Ian remarked, folding his arms.
“That’s about to change,” I revealed, my gaze not leaving the bastard’s face as I chuckled. “I’m not going to ask you to tell the truth.”
Fisting the handle, I drove the screwdriver into his left pupil.
His animalistic cry echoed throughout the room, making the clang of the screwdriver dropping to the floor seem silent in comparison.
Not wanting the tiniest sight of the mess, I turned to Pavel. “Get me—”
“I’ll talk, I’ll talk. Please, I’ll tell you everything,” he cried, interrupting me.
“Carry on,” I instructed before marching out of the room as I wiped the unwanted fluid off my hand with my white handkerchief.
I had barely settled back into my office chair when I heard a knock on my door.
“Come in,” I uttered.
Luka, my right-hand man, stepped into the office.
“Boss, we have a problem,” he stated, coming to stand across the desk.
“Of course, why else would you be here when you should be at the other warehouse?” I answered, sitting up. “What is it?”
“Kyle Wolfe.”
“Did he arise from the dead? Should I keep guessing?”
“I’m sorry,” he apologized before explaining, “his daughter just activated the device attached to the ownership papers.”
“The papers of the holding company in Cyprus?”
“Yes, Boss. We got the alert of her activating it some minutes ago.”
“This is going to be a clusterfuck of problems,” I disclosed, letting out a calming breath.
“Yes, Boss. We have to act immediately.”
I pushed my chair away from the desk, my eyes narrowed in thought. “Do you have eyes on her?” At his nod, I added, “Seize her. Immediately.”
“And then bring her here?”
“Of course not. She’s not a prisoner. Take her to the estate.”
“Okay, Boss.”
“Don’t delay,” I added.
“Sure, Boss,” he answered, nodding.
“Fuck,” I breathed as Luka closed the door.
Ordering Kyle’s daughter’s immediate kidnapping wasn’t the ultimate solution, but it was the best step to take given how crucial speed was in the situation.
***
My eyes were fixed on the monitor in front of me.
She was now conscious.
She kept hitting the door with the heel of her palms, impatience and defiance written all over her features.
Katria Wolfe.
The daughter of the disgraced Bratva enforcer, Kyle Wolfe. A traitor whose end I personally secured several years ago.
Something about how she moved from window to window before resuming her door banging stirred my blood. Her restlessness made me consider calming her down for a minute. If I didn’t know myself enough, I might have said I was uncomfortable about her discomfort.
The reflection of light as Eduard, my older brother, stepped into my home office, tore my eyes away from the monitor. Luka slipped in behind him.
I rose to my feet as Eduard approached one of the couches in the small sitting area to the left of my desk.
“Brother,” I greeted, taking the couch facing his. “I didn’t expect you to show up until you were done at your warehouse.”
“I’m done,” he answered, shrugging. “I’m no longer in the habit of staying out late. I told you.”
I nodded in agreement.
“I’m not sure I don’t envy your marital status there. How is she doing?”
“Very well,” he answered, a small smile accompanying the faraway look in his gray-blue eyes.
It was a type of happiness I couldn’t comprehend.
“Hello, brothers,” Konstantin’s voice joined us before his suited-up body did.
“Sir Konstantin,” Luka uttered, nodding in greeting from where he stood on Eduard’s right.
“Konstantin,” Eduard answered, turning toward our younger brother. “I see Monaco treated you quite well.”