Dimitri flashes Alek a sinister grin. “I’m glad you asked.” He says, hopping up on the stage. “Gentlemen,” He booms, extending his arms out in a grand gesture. “It’s a new era for our business. Trafficking guns and drugs to make ends meet is a thing of the past. The profits don’t always outweigh the costs and frankly, why should we continue slumming it with local street gangs when there are other more profitable ventures to explore. Sex is the future. The profits are exponential and the opportunity cost is minimal if you manage your resources properly. It’s no secret that Los Angeles is The West Coast’s most profitable territory to date, and that is all thanks to the underground sex clubs I established years ago. I’ve spoken with the council and they agree that it’s time the rest of the west coast syndicates follow suit.”
The silence that falls over the room is deafening. It’s an unspoken rule within The Organization that we keep our money out of women and children. Sex work is one thing, but we all know what Dimitri’s really talking about is sex slavery. It’s easy to keep your “opportunity cost” so minimal when your entire staff is working for zero pay.
Andrei, the muscle of The Forsaken, jumps up from his seat and slams his palm against the table. “Did Oleg even sign off on this shit?” He asks, furrowing his brows. “Who the hell do you think you are coming in here and telling us what to do with our cities?”
Dimitri lets out a vile, sadistic laugh as he slowly shakes his head. “You’re right. Oleg wouldn’t have signed off on this, but his opinion no longer matters. He’s dead.” He says, leveling his eyes on Andrei as his smile fades. “And I’m afraid, old friend, so are you.”
Before anyone can do anything to stop him, Dimitri whips out his gun and pulls the trigger. The bullet zips across the room and rips into the center of Andrei’s forehead with deadly precision. Blood drips down his face as the man's heavy body crumples to the ground and the rest of the room erupts in chaos.
Every other man in the room draws his gun and begins shouting as the distrust in the air boils over. The three of us sit and watch as Dimitri’s eyes glimmer with excitement. We’re used to him and his calculated cruelty, but it’s obvious that for most of the men in the room, this is their first real taste of who Dimitri really is, beyond his careful veneer.
“I’m the new head of West Coast operations.” Dimitri calls out over the melody of protests and accusations. “If any of you have a problem with that, now is the time to speak up.”
The sounds in the room die down as soon as they come to terms with what this all means.
“Questions?” Dimitri asks, flashing the room a broad grin. “No? I didn’t think so. Now if you’ll excuse me.” He says, tucking his gun back into its holster before jumping off of the stage to pick up his coat. “I’ve got some personal business to take care of. I expect full status reports on your new business ventures in no longer than three months. Have a good night, gentlemen.”
With that parting statement, Dimitri exits the building nearly as quickly as he arrived. Leaving the mess he made behind for us to clean.
Pushing drugs and running our various legitimate businesses has been working for us for the last 7 years and The Organization never once complained about the 40% overhead they took in.
This change is personal and is Dimitri’s way of separating himself from his predecessor. But enforcing a change like this is overkill and will garner him more enemies than he can handle. Everyone in this room can see that the man who was just standing before us is nothing like Oleg and, no matter how hard he tries to separate himself, he’ll always be stuck in his step-father’s shadow.
This change is personal and is Dimitri’s way of separating himself from his predecessor. But enforcing a change like this is overkill and will garner him more enemies than he can handle. Everyone in this room can see that the man who was just standing before us is nothing like Oleg and, no matter how hard he tries, he never will be.
This change is personal and is Dimitri’s way of separating himself from his predecessor. But enforcing a change like this is overkill and will garner him more enemies than he can handle. Everyone in this room can see that the man who was just standing before us is nothing like Oleg and no matter how hard he tries, he never will be.
This change is personal and is Dimitri’s way of separating himself from his predecessor. But enforcing a change like this is overkill and will garner him more enemies than he can handle. Everyone in this room can see that the man standing before us is nothing like Oleg and no matter how hard he tries, he never will be.
This change is personal and is Dimitri’s way of separating himself from his predecessor. But enforcing a change like this is suicide. Everyone in this room can see that the man standing before us is nothing like Oleg and no matter how hard he tries, he never will be.
This change is personal and Dimitri’s way of separating himself from his predecessor. But enforcing a change like this is suicide. Everyone in this room can see that the man standing before us is nothing like Oleg and no matter how hard he tries, he never will be.
* * *
I release an exasperatedbreath and rub my temples just to make sure my brain is hearing him correctly. “What did you just s… say?” I ask, peering closer to his face.
Ezra stares at his zippo, flicking the lid open and closed, over and over again. His mouth is pressed in a hard line and his eyes look dead inside.
“She’s gone.” He repeats, refusing to look up at the three of us. The second we opened the front door, we found him like this at the foot of the stairs. Atlas tried to get him to talk, but for the first couple of minutes, he refused to say anything. Just sat there playing with his lighter. It wasn’t until Cyrus screamed at him that we finally got him to say those words.
“What the fuck do you mean she’s gone?” Atlas hisses, glaring at him. “You were supposed to watch her. What happened?”
“Mitri happened.” Cyrus spits, pacing the floor. “I knew that meeting was just a fucking distraction. The asshole did something to make her leave.”
“It wasn’t Dimitri.” Ezra says, finally glaring up at the three of us as he clenches his jaw. “It was me.”
“It was you?” I ask, glaring at him. “What does that even f… fucking mean?”
“She wanted to see the monster.” He says dismissively. “So I let her.”
“Did you hurt her?” Atlas asks, flaring his nostrils as an eerie calm overtakes his entire demeanor.
Ezra solemnly shakes his head. “Not in the way you think.”
“We need to go find her.” Cyrus says as he continues to pace. “It isn’t safe for her out there.”
“She made her choice.” Ezra says, standing up as he tucks his zippo away. “She doesn’t want us and it’s time we fucking accepted it. She was only ever supposed to be a toy. Just consider her permanently broken.”
