Chapter 6
ALEXEI
Ithink Pavel has had too much to drink already.
It’s the night before my ‘marriage’ and Pavel has elected to take me out to celebrate.
Given the circumstances surrounding my situation, I find it odd that we’re even going through this stupid ritual.
Outside of keeping up appearances from those outside our inner circle, I think he is just using this as an excuse to go out and drink.
And see naked women. We’re at one of the strip bars that I manage, sitting in a corner booth in our special section.
Security stands a few feet away from us and velvet ropes keep us separated from the unwashed masses.
I suppose this setup is designed to make us feel like kings, but right now, I don’t feel much of anything.
I look out at the bar. The colored strobe lights and loud music. The topless women in tiny G-strings dancing on the poles in the center of the room and the patrons all watching them from the chairs around the stage. ‘Sniffer’s row’, Pavel calls it.
I look around, and I’m reminded of the wisdom of not being boots on the ground at one of these places.
Every single one I’ve ever been in is basically the same.
The same customers, the same girls, the same problems. These places never really change over time.
All these hopeful saps throw their money away to women wouldn’t piss on them to put them out if they were on fire.
And this is where my brother thinks to bring me for my ‘last night out as a free man’. I don’t even know what that means, really. I’m getting into a fake marriage for the good of my family. Was I ever really free to begin with?
Other than us in the booth are two strippers Pavel says are from the ‘A’ squad. Pavel has his arm around one of the strippers and I’m ignoring the other one sitting between us. She’s putting on lipstick and checking her makeup, just as disinterested as I am.
I should have just stayed home.
“You haven’t touched your drink,” Pavel says, pointing to the champagne flute in front of me. “What’s the point of bottle service if you’re not partaking?”
“I don’t like champagne,” I tell him. “You know that. It always gives me a headache.”
“Gives you a headache,” he repeats in a slightly bitter tone.
“You’re giving me a headache. I take you out for one last night of freedom and you spend the whole night sulking.
” He turns to stripper number two and nudges her.
“Tomorrow, he’s going to be off the market and he’s acting like he’s headed to his execution. Isn’t that ridiculous?”
Stripper number two smiles and says, “Maybe she’s not really his type.” She turns to me and scoots closer, her lowered lids sizing me up. “Big, handsome man like you probably needs somebody more your speed.”
She runs a finger over my arm and I pull it away. “I’m going to get a real drink,” I say and stand up. “Try to stay out of trouble until I get back.”
I leave and make my way to the bar. Honestly, I should be making my way out the front door.
I stop the moment I have the thought and look toward the entrance. Ten, maybe twenty steps and I could be standing outside hailing a cab. And if I leave now, I can catch one of the late night talk shows before bed. At least I’ll be more alert when I have to head to the church tomorrow morning.
“Alexei! Holy shit! Alexei!”
I turn toward the voice shouting at me just in time to see someone standing up and waving at me. It takes me a few seconds to recognize him through the strobe likes, but as he comes closer and I see his short, curly reddish-blond hair, I realize who it is.
“Dmitri?” I say as he walks up. He gives me a warm hug and for the first time in weeks, I am genuinely happy.
“Cousin!” he says as he hugs me. “It’s been a long time, right?”
It has. Three years. Dmitri left for Europe after his twenty-first birthday and just never came back. It was only supposed to be for a couple of months and for a while, we all worried that something might’ve happened to him. Turns out he’s been fine all this time.
“Where have you been all this time?” I stand back and look him over. He’s gained a little weight and about an inch in height, but he looks the same as he did when he left.
“Europe,” he says with a laugh. “Brussels, Amsterdam, Germany, Paris, all over. I liked it so much, I decided to stay there a while.”
“Ah, you didn’t bother to visit the homeland like Tetushka suggested?”
He snickers. The memory of his mother’s insistence that he find a nice Russian girl and get married while he was gone is still fresh in both our minds.
“Absolutely not,” he says. “Not when I could be a single man in the Red Light district in Amsterdam. You should see the women out there, man. You’d fall in love. ”
“What? Better than paradise right here?” I motion to the stage. “What could be better than American girls on poles?”
“Come with me next time and I’ll show you,” he says with a laugh. “Have you seen my sister yet?”
“No.” I glance around the club toward the bar. Usually, when Anya was working, she would come over to say hello, at least. “She must be off ton—”
“There she is.” Dmitri nodded to the door just as she was walking in. She was wearing a black lace top and blue jeans, her long, curly brown hair tied back into a ponytail. “Come on.”
We make it to the bar at the same time that she does. She sees us both and her blank expression changes as her entire face brightens into a smile. “Dmitri!”
She rushes over and practically jumps on him. “What are you doing home? When did you get back?”
“Just today,” he says with a laugh. She then turns to me and gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Long time for you, too. What are you doing in here? Somebody owe some money?”
“No.” My face gets a little warm. I’m not sure if she’s joking or if that whole thing with Kozlov has gotten around. “Pavel brought me.”
“Oh, right,” she says. Then to Dmitri, “Guess who’s getting married?”
“Who?” Dmitri looks from her to me with genuine curiosity. Anya snickers.
“I am,” I tell him. He just blinks.
“You’re kidding, right?” To Anya, he says, “He’s kidding.”
“He’s not,” she says with a heavy sigh. “Come on. I’ll get you a couple of beers while you catch him up, Alexei.”
We go to the bar and Anya gets behind it. The current bartender glances over as if he’s about to say something about her starting her shift, but the moment he sees me, he thinks better of it and goes back to serving the customers.
“So,” Dmitri says as she serves us our beers. “Who’s the lucky girl? I want to hear everything. Where did you meet her? Is she beautiful?”
“It’s not what you think,” I tell him. “It’s just a business arrangement. Our families are allying with the Pecoras.”
Dmitri’s mouth dropped. “What?”
“Believe it.” I tell him all about how Damon Pecora got into dealing for my father and ended up owing so much debt that it was threatening to bankrupt his entire family. He listened while sipping his beer.
“So, now you gotta marry one of his daughters,” he says. “Which one?”
“Does that matter?” Anya says. “He doesn’t know either of them, and now he’s gotta marry one so that our families will play nice. It’s stupid Bratva bullshit.”
“Hey,” they both say at once, and Anya puts up her hands in defense.
“I’m just saying. All this macho crap is eventually going to be the downfall of the whole Samorodokaya Empire.”
“This macho shit is the reason you’ve got a job,” Dmitri says. “So, kill the disrespect, huh?” She just rolls her eyes. Dmitri turns back to me. “So, which one do you have to marry?”
I sigh. “Well, it was going to be the older one, but she skipped town. Now I’m marrying the younger one.”
Dmitri took a long sip from his bottle, then, “I don’t remember. Which one’s the hot one?”
“Ugh.” Anya grabbed her apron from under the counter. “I’m going to get to work. You two enjoy your little circle jerk.”
She walks away and Dmitri waves her off. “She’s just mad because nobody’s trying to marry her.”
“No, she’s right,” I say. “It doesn’t actually matter who the hot one is. I never wanted to marry either of them. I’m doing this for the brotherhood. Nothing more.”
He nods and says, “That’s noble, but you have to admit. Pecora’s daughters have always been easy to look at. Especially the redhead.”
That weirdly stings. “You don’t think the brunette is hot?” I instantly hate myself for asking. I feel like a thirsty teenager.
“She’s okay,” he says with a shrug. “A little wild, though, last I heard. I assume she’s settled down now.”
I think about all the rumors I’ve heard about Isabella Pecora over the years and I decide not to respond to that. It’s not like this whole thing is my choice, anyway.
“Well, if she’s not,” he says, “you’ll find out. Then again, marrying you will probably force her to keep her legs shut. Who would even think to hit on your wife?”
That’s a valid point. “I suppose if there’s any altruistic angle to this marriage, it’s that.”
“The best way to turn a whore into a housewife is to marry her to the second scariest bastard in Fortune city.”
I chuckle. “Fair enough. I just hope she doesn’t give me too much of a hard time. I’ve got enough problems without a wayward wife to worry about.”
“It’ll work out,” he says, patting me on the shoulder. “Hey, maybe you two will become friends because of this… or more? If anybody deserves a happy ending, my friend, it’s you.”
I smile weakly. Part of the reason he left was because of how everything went down with Kira’s death. I hope he doesn’t still blame himself.
I lift my beer bottle and say, “To happy endings.”
He nods and clinks the neck of his bottle to me. “To happy endings.”
“Holy fuck! Is that Dimmy-dim?”
Dmitri lowers his head in defeat as my brother’s drunken voice sails over the heads of the patrons. He winces and looks at me. “How much has he had already?”
“Lots.”
Pavel stumbles over and pats Dmitri hard on the back. “Dimmy-dim-dim,” he slurs. “I thought you were dead, man.”
Dmitri doesn’t look at him. He sips his beer in an effort not to appear as bothered as I know he is. He hates it when Pavel calls him Dimmy-dim. “Nope,” he says. “I was just in Europe. Traveling.”
“Yeah? Did you go to Paris? I hear a lot of pediks love Paris. Did you meet a lot of pediks and suck a lot of pedik dick?”
Dmitri puts his beer down and stands up. I jump between them. “Dmitri, he’s drunk. Ignore him.”
“I’m not…” Pavel half hiccupped and half burped, then started again. “I’m not drunk. I can’t help it if you like hanging out with a cocksucking fa—”
“Okay, that’s enough.” I grab him by his arm. “I’m taking you home. See you later, Dmitri.”
“Right,” he says as I practically drag my brother out of the club. When we get outside, I push him toward the parking lot. “Walk.”
He stumbles, still maintaining his footing miraculously. “Hey, what’s the big deal? I was just messing with him. I don’t care whose dick he’s sucking.”
I hate this side of Pavel. I shouldn’t have come. I know when he drinks too much, he gets off on starting trouble. And with his history of bullying Dmitri, I really should have seen that exchange coming.
I get Pavel in the car, wrestle his keys away from him, and drive him home. He’s passed out before we’re even halfway to his apartment.
Seeing Dmitri again felt good. When we were teenagers, we moved like a team. He was smaller than the rest of us boys, a little shorter and thinner, but he was smart. When he couldn’t fight his way out of a problem, he could out-think any bully he came up against.
Except Pavel. There was something about him that always got under Dmitri’s skin like no one else. The two of them have exchanged more bloody noses and black eyes than I could ever hope to count. And from my brother’s perspective, he was just toughening him up, but Dmitri never saw it that way.
Now that he’s back in town, he’ll need to take his place among those under me again.
He was a decent krysha, but I liked him better in more intellectual settings.
Anything I ever asked him to do, he did and did it well.
I could use him on my team in the coming days now that we are aligning with the Pecoras.
That’s going to mean that their enemies will now be our enemies and their problems are now ours.
If I ever find out whose idea it was to let Damon Pecora in on our drug trade, I’m putting a bullet in their head myself.