Chapter 3 - Leon

The chandelier above the table glows warmly, and the dark-paneled walls give the restaurant a luxury touch. A wall of windows offers a view of the city, the lights shining in the dusk sky.

Ivan looks around the long table with his arms folded. A cigar box stands in front of him on the polished mahogany table. As our Pakhan [boss], he sits at the head of the table, surrounded by my cousins and other influential men of the Orlov Bratva, who all look up to him to begin our meeting.

I don"t know why he wanted to gather in this private room of the restaurant, but sitting with my family, the most important men in my life, over a meal is always welcome.

These days, we are remarkably busy. Our enemies are growing, but so is the empire my family has built over generations. I don't have much time these days, but I do what is necessary. That kind of life ensures my family has a long and powerful posterity.

The most important thing now is to get rid of the damned Mancini clan.

I slide back and forth in my seat as Ivan passes the box of cigars around. Most men take one, cut off the tip, and light it. The cigar smoke is already choking the air as I put my own to my lips, inhale the heady smoke deeply, and hold it for a moment before exhaling a cloud again.

Maxim turns in his seat. "I heard your commander killed some of Mancini"s men the other day."

I nod, the cigar pinched between my thumb and forefinger as I pull it from my mouth. "Boris took out several of the Don's men, but one of them was a relative to the Don."

Maxim's hazel eyes show no flicker of emotion and stare straight through me. It is an unsettling look. Over the years, I've gotten used to my cousin's expression, but others still cringe when he looks at them with that stare.

Sergey clears his throat, and the legs of his chair creak against the floor as he stands up. "The fucking Italians are becoming more of a nuisance to us every day."

The men around the table nod, mumbling their agreement. Sergey looks at Ivan and abandons the plates of food in front of them.

Ivan gives the nod, signaling for Sergey to continue.

Sergey takes time to look at each man holding their attention. "They have attacked us again in our territory. They thought they could gain access to us unannounced and sabotage our supplies."

The men murmur to themselves and whisper about our recent issues with the Italians. They have always been a problem but have become even bolder in the last few months. They steal our drugs and weapons. Prostitutes have been found dead after allegedly spending a night with one of their men.

Now they're coming after the Orlov men, trying to take us out one by one.

"Killing them is no longer enough." Ivan's voice cuts through the low rumble as he pulls his cigar from his lips and places it in the ashtray beside him. "It"s the easy way out, and fucking cowards like them deserve to suffer for their crimes."

"What is the plan?" Denis, Sergey's commander, asks, his voice cutting through the threats people are muttering.

Sergey looks at me. Over the last two weeks, I've been talking to him, Ivan, and Maxim about the best plan of attack. It took several arguments to work out the final details, but I finally got them to see the situation as I did.

I grin and take another long puff on the cigar. "We will weaken them. We"ll steal their customers and their allies. We"ll take them out at their most vulnerable points and bring down everything they've built up. Then, when they lie in the rubble of what once was, we kill them all."

"That bastard Carlo Mancini won't know what hit him." Denis grins as he leans back smugly in his seat.

Sergey smirks. "The Don is going to lose his empire."

"Carlo hasn"t been in New York for a long time, and in that time, he"s forgotten who the Bratva are and what we're capable of." Ivan reaches for his whiskey and takes a sip. "We will create the biggest shithouse and burn this bastard to the ground."

"Now that he's back, the attacks are becoming more frequent." Sergey sits down again and relaxes in the plush upholstered chair. "Not only are we stronger than him, but we"re also smarter."

Maxim smirks, finishing his cigar. "Mancini and his men have been living the good life for too long. We need to finish those assholes."

I puff on the cigar and blow out the smoke in a circle. "This is the beginning of the war, but it will not be won with bloodshed this time."

We cannot afford to lose men. Not if we want to remain as strong an organization as we are now. Our other enemies are everywhere, and they will be lurking for signs of weakness. Dwindling numbers would be a potential point of attack for them.

Ivan wants to get rid of the Mancinis in a way that sends a message to anyone who dares to mess with the Orlovs. If any of them survive, there will be no safe place in New York.

"Looks like we all agree with your idea." Maxim shifts closer to me, and the conversation at the table is interrupted when Ivan speaks briefly to Sergey. "It doesn't seem as bloodthirsty a plan as you usually have."

"I've been in the business long enough. If there's one thing I've learned, the best way to decapitate an organization is to deprive it of the revenue streams that fund it. And then we kill them. But only after they've lost everything they have."

"That doesn't seem quite your style, cousin. You were the man who slaughtered an entire family, and now you want to be cold and calculating?"

I shrug. "Perhaps I'm becoming more like you."

"I doubt that." Maxim pours himself another glass of whiskey. "You haven't changed that much over the years, Leon. Don't let age soften you." He chuckles.

"The last few weeks have proven that none of us can go into battle like we used to. There is no point in losing our men when we can smash their organization in other ways. Then, when they are weakened, we will strike."

Sergey stands upright again and looks around. "We will begin our plan at the lowest levels. People, the Mancinis won't miss at first."

He gives the impression of being relaxed but stands there like a coiled snake, ready to strike.

Sergey nods at Ivan. "We"ve discussed our plan at great length over the last few days. Killing the Italian bastards may be satisfying, but it"s not the path we will take. We'll start small and hide under their radar for now."

Ivan stands up and nods toward the door. "Speak to no one about this plan. You will be notified when I need you. You are all dismissed."

Most men filter out the room, take their drinks, and disperse to the rest of the restaurant.

The door to our private room closes, and Sergey turns to me. "Your plan is now being put into action, little brother. You better hope it doesn't fail."