Chapter 4 #2
My gut tells me it’s a bad idea to release him. This son of a whore is going to run the second he sees an opening. This is Pavel’s job, though, so I do it anyway. I take my arm off his neck and step back. Kozlov slides off the wall, gasping for air.
“Meet me outside,” Pavel tells me.
“Pavel,” I start, but he gives me a look. One that says let me handle this.
Yeah, this is a bad move and truthfully, I only came to watch Pavel’s back. And Kozlov is in deep with our father, deep enough to do just about anything to escape this moment.
But this isn’t about any of that. Pavel is trying to show me, and maybe our father as well, that he is capable of doing this job on his own.
I don’t say a word. I leave the VIP area.
Out in the club, I decide to get a drink from the bar while I wait.
My brother is a man who has longed for his father’s attention his entire life, a notion that has always felt futile to me.
We can’t help the direction that my father gives.
He’s the Pakhan, after all. What he says goes for all of us, regardless of where we lie in our birth order.
I get to be my father’s right hand and one day, I will be the one to run our family and all the territories that come with it.
It’s not a role I ever strived for. It just is.
Pavel, on the other hand, has been working to prove his value since we were children. Now that he’s been deemed a krysha, the same role Father had in his youth, he truly wants to live up to that title.
I can’t blame him. How can he be an enforcer if his big brother is fighting his battles?
As soon as the bartender hands me my drink, there’s a commotion behind me. I turn just in time to see Kozlov knocking over one of the waitresses. The tray of glasses she was holding goes smashing to the floor as he darts out the emergency exit.
“Shit.” I get to my feet and rush through the throng of nosy customers to chase after him. I get to the VIP door and Pavel comes running out. His nose is bloodied and swollen. He joins me as we both hit the emergency exit and into the alley.
By the time we both get outside, we hear tires screeching away in the distance. We both see a car’s taillights as it pulls out of the driveway and to the street. Bastard just got away.
“Goddammit!” Pavel shouts, kicking the side of the dumpster near the door. “Fuck!”
I sigh and cross my arms. This is fucked. He’s got every right to be pissed. Father is going to shit when he hears Kozlov got away.
“It happens,” I say to Pavel. “Sometimes they get the jump on you. That’s why you never do these types of things alone. You know that.”
“I know. I just…” He pauses and shakes his head. “I thought it would look better if I did this without my big brother’s help, you know? Why the hell did he send you with me, anyway? Isn’t this below your pay grade?”
“Helping you is never beneath me, Pavie.”
He regards me silently. The bridge of his nose has swollen significantly in the last couple of minutes. He sniffles and goes to wipe the blood away, but flinches the second his hand touches his nose. “Shit.” He winces. “I think he broke my nose.”
I take his head in my hands. “Let me look at it.” I tilt his head back, observing the obvious break. “It’s definitely broken.”
“Fuck,” he swears again. He pulls his head away and gingerly touches the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to kill that slimy sack of shit when I see him again.”
I nod. If Kozlov has a brain in his head, he’d better be on his way out of town. I don’t know if Father will greenlight taking him out, but Pavel definitely meant what he just said.
He spits blood onto the pavement and grumbles another expletive before I see him visibly letting the matter go. He leans up against the wall and pulls out his cigarettes. He offers me one, but I decline. I’m trying to quit.
“You know,” he says as he lights his, “I found out what that whole thing was about with Damon Pecora’s funeral. With Pop meeting up with Pecora, I mean.”
I tilt my head at him. We haven’t really talked about that since the day of, and while I’ve been wondering what was said between them when they went into the parlor, I didn’t bother myself with trying to find out.
“How’d you find out?” I ask.
Pavel shrugs. “Overheard some things. A conversation he had over the phone.”
I sigh. “You know how I feel about spreading gossip.”
“It’s not gossip and it involves you.”
That perks my ears up. “So, what did you hear?”
“Only that Papa wants you to get married to Pecora’s oldest daughter.”
I wince in disbelief. “He wants me to marry Tony Pecora’s daughter? You can’t have heard that right.”
“I heard what I heard.”
I stare at him, looking for the lie, waiting for him to suddenly start laughing and tell me that it was just a joke. He doesn’t. He just looks back at me with his swelling nose.
“That is one hundred percent not true,” I tell him. “I would know if I were about to marry Analisa Pecora.”
“Listen, believe me or don’t. I’m only telling you what I heard.” He sniffles again and this time, the sound is clogged. “I need to get this checked out. Let’s go.”
“Yeah, sure.” We walk down the alley together and to the parking lot. Before we get to the car, I say, “Don’t worry about Papa. I’ll talk to him about what happened tonight.”
Pavel nods and says, “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
As we get in the car, I realize that’s not all I need to talk to my father about.
“Hey, you forget to duck?”
One of my father’s guards is standing at the door when we arrive at his house.
He’s a big man with a round, jolly face and permanently rosy cheeks under his full beard.
In all these years, Pavel and I have never known his real name.
We just call him Uncle Moroz because he reminds us both of Santa Claus.
Especially when he starts laughing like he is now.
As we walk up to the door, he reaches out to Pavel’s chin. “That’s a solid shot,” he says. “You’re gonna need to set it. I can do it for you real quick if you want.”
Pavel gives me a cautious look and I pat him on the shoulder. “I’ll see you upstairs.”
As I walk away, I hear them go back and forth about Pavel’s nose. By the time I reach the stairs, the halls fill with a loud crack and Pavel yelping out and cursing in pain. I guess Uncle Moroz made good on his suggestion.
My father is in his study and his door is open. A warm amber light spills out and into the hallway as I approach. I knock, pushing the door open.
He’s sitting at his desk, reading glasses on his nose as he hovers over what looks like a notebook. The second he sees me, he smiles and takes off his glasses.
“You’re back already. How did it go?”
“Kozlov got away from us,” I tell him. Before my father can say anything, I add, “It’s not Pavel’s fault. Kozlov saw us coming and got the jump on him. Greasy bastard’s fast.”
He sits there with a neutral expression, then he shrugs. “Koz was always a slippery son of a bitch. Where’s your brother know?”
“Probably in the kitchen with ice on his face. Kozlov broke his nose.”
At that, he shakes his head. “He really needs to learn to duck.” He sighs and puts his glasses back on. “I guess next time, hmm?”
That’s my cue to leave. He’s turned back to whatever he was reading which means the conversation is over, but my feet stay rooted to the spot.
“Is there something else you wanted to talk about?” he asks without looking up.
“Yes. I’ve heard that I’m about to be married. To one of Pecora’s daughters.” He freezes momentarily, then takes his glasses off again and sets them aside. “I immediately thought that it couldn’t be true because you would never arrange a thing like that without talking to me first.”
He scoffs. “You think you know so well what I would or would not do? Interesting how you talk to me like you’re the one in charge.”
I’ve insulted him. Still, he hasn’t denied it yet. “I meant no disrespect,” I say. “It’s only that I’m your son and, more importantly, your Brigadier. Rumors like this among our ranks don’t serve us—”
“Well, then, it’s a good thing that it’s not a rumor.”
I’m stunned silent. It’s like he’s slapped me in the throat and I’ve lost my ability to speak. In my silence, he shakes his head.
“This is not how I wanted you to find out,” he says. “I was planning on telling you once the final arrangements had been made. Ah, but what’s done is done. You know now. That’s all that matters.”
“Papa,” I say, “I don’t know this woman. More importantly, I’m not interested in marriage—”
“That is irrelevant. Son, this is a business arrangement. We are uniting with the Pecora family, something that will undoubtedly benefit us in the long run. They have been formidable rivals for years. You do realize they are the biggest family in New York State.”
I hear what he’s saying. It makes sense. But… marriage? “There has to be another way to unite with them. We can discuss a truce or a treaty—”
“It’s already being discussed, Alexei. Your marriage will be a show of good faith on both our parts. It will let them know that we can be trusted as their allies. This marriage is the most important thing you will ever do for the Bratva.”
I just stare at him. Everything within me is conflicted. “I’ve dedicated my life to the brotherhood,” I say. “I will follow any order you give me in the name of it. But this…? You can’t possibly expect—”
“I expect you to do as you are told,” he said firmly. “You will marry Analisa Pecora and you will be her husband in every sense to solidify trust between these families. This is not up for debate. It has been decided.”
My jaw clenches to stop myself from speaking out against him. This is bullshit.
“Now,” he says, “if there’s nothing else, I am quite busy.”
He put his reading glasses back on and returns to the papers he’s reading. All I can do is turn and leave. I might not like any of this, but he’s right. I don’t have a choice. He’s spoken and I have to follow.
But I don’t have to like it.