Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

S ix months later

Nikolay

"Good God. I haven't heard from you in what, five years?"

My half-brother laughed. "Seven, but who's counting, and I did try and call you. It's funny how you're just too busy to pick up the phone for family. I guess that Pakhan of yours is keeping you at his beck and call." Vissarian was very much opposite of me, a true playboy even if he'd been married to the same woman for years. He'd gone to school in California and stayed, not only opening several legitimate businesses over the years but some that were completely unscrupulous.

Plus, he was considered a notorious crime lord.

Why should that bother me? We'd been cut from the same cloth. He had his world. I had mine.

We'd spent a few years living together. He was older, heading to college when I was nine or so. I honestly wasn't certain I'd hear from the guy again. Our last conversation hadn't ended on a positive note. We could argue with the best of them.

"Very funny. I have a highly paid job," I reminded him. That included not only being the captain of the notorious New York Pakhan, but also owning several businesses outright myself. Several were smaller ones in Brighton Beach where I owned my house, an area of Brooklyn where Russian immigrants had settled decades before.

They were Mom and Pop organizations rich in culture, something I craved to keep alive. Most were at this point big business not welcomed by the old guards. I'd grown up here. I'd spent years playing outside on the streets, going to the corner candy store and ice cream parlor when I was a kid. It had been mostly safe, had people I could relate to and who didn't make fun of my accent and honestly, had been an incredible place to grow up.

They were also fiercely loyal to Vadim, given his generosity.

We were so different from the thugs over at the Kaskov Bratva, a much smaller yet savage group who usually kept a low profile in the southern part of the state. They'd alienated everyone around them.

Maybe the difference was that I also owned extremely lucrative corporations, including part interest in a jewelry store that fronted for the sale of South American diamonds direct to wealthy buyers. That had made me a billionaire along with the Pakhan and his Councilor.

And more sophisticated than the thugs.

"And if I recall, yours barely gets by," I teased. He'd coined himself the Pakhan of Los Angeles, taking control in areas gangs had once nearly destroyed. Because he'd used his money to renovate everything from infrastructure to buildings, adding two different quaint artistic villas catering to different cultures, he was more of a hero than a villain to the Los Angeles people.

My, how crime syndicates had changed over the years.

"You are hysterical. Take it on the road," he growled.

The strangled moan made me turn my head, glaring at my Capo. "Keep him quiet, for fuck's sake," I said after placing my hand over the speaker. I'd taken the phone call in the kitchen of one of the restaurants I owned, holding a gun while two of my men held a goddamn traitor who'd not only stolen money from me, but had even dared come into my restaurant with his buddies to eat pizza. The man had signed his own death warrant.

So fucking be it.

It was almost five o'clock somewhere. I'd grab a hefty drink after this before heading home.

Danny rolled his eyes while Maxim grunted and took the opportunity to smack the man in the head with his gun. He adored violence, something that often worried me.

"Hey, so I wanted to let you know Daniella, Chantel, and I are waltzing into town for a few days."

"Oh, really. Invading my Pakhan's territory? And I learn something new about you every day. You waltz."

"I'll waltz your ass off when I get there. I'm not a fool, my brother. I like living and I adore LA. But I might have some business with a bigwig East Coast group that wants to invest in one of my corporations. Plus, Chantel is moving out to New York much to my chagrin. I just want to give her a good sendoff. You know?"

Chantel. I hadn't seen his adopted daughter for at least a decade, maybe longer. Hell, I'd bounced the girl on my knee at the last family reunion. Before that, I'd curled up with her reading her stories. "Didn't she just graduate high school?"

Vissarian burst into laughter. "Bro, where you been? You're getting old as shit. She graduated college with a master's in advertising and a secondary one in marketing. That girl is smart as a fucking whip. Still, she got a job with some two-bit firm in Manhattan and that pisses me off. Why does she need to be two thousand miles from home?"

"Because she's an adult and you're an overbearing father." Which was true. I was still in shock that she was what, twenty-four or five? Where the fuck had time gone?

"You really need to take your comedy act on the road. We'll be in town later tomorrow. The next night, I have the backroom of the Grill House booked. I invited just a few friends, so I want you to come."

"You don't have any friends. You mean you invited your clients or hopeful clients and their wives and mistresses, maybe a couple other people to fill in so you could wine and dine them."

"E-xact-ly."

"Your daughter doesn't get her brains from you." No, she got them from her beautiful mother, who'd been lucky enough to have Vissarian as her champion if only by accident. I heard all about my brother finding the woman's very dead and long since dismembered ex-husband beating the shit out of her. If there was one thing we agreed on in our rather dangerous, brutal family, it was that women were precious, not punching bags.

I wanted to see my brother, but I loathed social events. They made my skin crawl. Still, I could suffer for a decent rare steak and a nice visit. "What time?"

"Seven sharp, my man. You don't know Daniella. She turns into a tigress when anyone is late to anything she organizes." He growled like a beast and all I could do was laugh. "It'll be good to see you."

"You too, bro. Safe flight." After ending the call, I allowed my thoughts to drift to when we were growing up. Brighton Beach was known for blended families. It was the norm. We'd been close. When he'd moved, I'd been devastated as a kid. But Vissarian was years older and had wanted to spread his wings.

And boy, had he ever.

I shoved my phone into my pocket and placed my weapon on one of many stainless-steel counters. My jacket was confining as fuck today. Granted, it was warm outside for an October day, the kitchen nearly suffocating given I'd interrupted dinner time preparation, but this wasn't going to take long. I had a team outside ready to handle the cleanup quickly, not that I usually left but so much in the way of bloodshed and gore. That wasn't my style.

But today, I had to admit I was pissed. Royally pissed. This guy I'd literally brought up from a street rat to a guy who had clout. He had men who respected him. And he'd fucked it up, why? Drugs. In my mind, they were the bane of existence in America. We didn't handle drugs. We didn't allow them in our ranks. I'd experimented a few times until my father had set me straight.

And you never, ever wanted a Russian man to take out his frustration on you.

"Charlie. Do you understand why you're here, your face swollen and your gut hurting?" I asked rather casually for how I felt.

"I'm sorry, sir. I really am. I just… My addiction got away from me and I owed this guy a lot of money and I tried to pay him back and get clean. I really did. Ask my guys." Now I understood what he was saying although his pronunciation of the various words was off given his swollen lip.

I glanced at my two men, Maxim rolling his eyes. It was always the same. They were sorry. They'd never do it again. They'd make it up to me. Right. If I had a dime for every excuse I'd heard, I'd be wealthy as hell.

Wait, I already was.

"Who did you owe money to?" I could tell Charlie didn't want to tell me. At least he didn't want to be considered a snitch. I guess that was something to say about his character. I nodded to Danny, who smacked him across the face. I could tell Maxim would have preferred a chance, but I wasn't ready to hear the guy scream. Even now, it was unnerving as fuck.

I almost felt sorry for him. Drugs were a beast. When they got ahold of you, they didn't let go.

Charlie was now blubbering, which I hated almost as much as the apologies. I held my weapon in both hands in front of me as I walked closer. "Who do you owe money to?"

The guy sniffed and did his best to look me in the eyes like a real man. "Bobby the Snake."

Wow. The kid had it bad for heroin. Bobby was a notorious loan shark, the dude almost as twisted in his methods of convincing his ‘clients' to pay back what was owed as I could be. With a fifty percent interest tacked on that exponentiated every week. "How the fuck did you get involved with this dude?"

Tears had found their way streaming down Charlie's cheeks. He sniffed a couple more times before answering. "I sold my daddy's watch at his store. One thing led to another."

Which meant Bobby had sniffed out why. I shook my head. I actually felt sorry for the kid. That was very rare for me. I glanced at Danny. Sometimes we didn't need to talk. We'd known each other long enough that we could communicate very well through nods, eye movement, and gestures. When he realized I wasn't going to kill the kid, he was the one now rolling his eyes.

But he knew I rarely offered a second chance to anyone. Any single person, including women who fucked with me. Not that I laid a hand on them. I just sent them packing. I crouched down in front of Charlie, thinking about the little boy he had that I knew he adored.

I rubbed my eyes, hating this job. "Charlie. Here's what we're going to do. As you might imagine, you need to be punished for your actions. I simply cannot allow you to get off scot free. I have a reputation to uphold. However, this is your lucky as fuck day. But I'm going to tell you this. If you dare fuck with me again, there won't be enough left of you for sharks to feed on. Do you understand?"

"Oh, God. Oh, God. Thank you, sir. I will be your best employee ever. I will make it up to you. I promise. I swear on my mother's grave. God rest her soul."

I waved my hand. "However, you're going to tell me how much you're into Bobby for."

He sniveled again and nodded. "Fifty large."

Well, fuck. That was enough money that his kid could be in danger. Also not allowed in my world. I guess I'd need to take care of the buzzard once and for all. "Alright. Your problem is going to go away. But because of that, I'm sending you to a live-in rehabilitation center I know of. Long term and highly effective. My expense. You will owe me and one way you're paying me back is by staying clean. One hiccup and you're gone."

"Oh, God. Oh…" His wails were getting far too loud.

"Enough."

"My son. I just…"

"I'll make certain he's doing okay. Now, take your punishment like a man. Alright?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

I rose to my feet, beckoning Danny toward the door.

"You really want to do this?" Danny asked, halfway amused.

"Yeah. My single get-out-of-jail-free card this year. Drop him off at Shepherd Farms. I'll call ahead."

"Wow, that is expensive."

"Yeah, I know. I'll get it out of him."

"In the meantime, what punishment do you suggest?"

I thought about it and noticed the group of sharp knives that had recently been washed. "He loses a finger, but I don't want the other dinner guests interrupted. Make sure and gag him. And don't let Maxim do it, for fuck's sake."

He chuckled. "Yeah, he is getting more aggressive nowadays. I'll handle it."

I clapped him on the arm and sighed. "I hate this crap. I thought we were past needing to resort to violence."

"Come on, boss. You know better."

"I guess. Drop by later for a drink when the workday is finished."

"Will do."

I yanked on my jacket, shoving my weapon into my pocket. Most of the customers knew who owned the place and could guess at times what happened behind closed doors but there were women and children in the restaurant tonight.

The last thing I wanted was to provide more nightmares than life in general offered.

As I strode out of the kitchen, I waved to my manager before hitting the sunshine. At least New York in October was a lovely time of year.