I need to figure out how to put Aleksy in the ground without my wife hating me.
The Russian-ownedbusinesses aren’t exactly in prime real estate.
Most of them sit in the dying corners of the city.
Liquor stores, payday loan joints, and empty buildings surround them.
And now it’s nothing but ashes.
The Bratva are sure having a rough year.
The bowling alley was their only semi-legit source of income.
All the other money Yaroslav brought in was dirty money from trafficking drugs.
We arrive just as the last fire truck leaves. Aleksy’s in the parking lot, pacing, with his phone pressed to his ear.
When he spots us stepping out of the car, he mutters something, ends the call, and shoves the phone into his pocket.
“Mydedushkais here,” he says, his breath ragged and stressed, as if we care. “Lev just told me. That fat bastard hasn’t left Russia in years. Something’s fishy.”
“I’d say he’s here because you’re fucking everything up,” Antonio casually comments, as if that isn’t the worst insult a boss could give to another.
Aleksy scowls at him, nostrils flaring. “I was handed a pile of shit. I’m doing the best I can to fucking fix it!” His voice rises, butstill stays somewhat level. “Why are you two here? You couldn’t give me one fucking day to handlethisproblem?”
“We haven’t seen a dime from the profits we were promised,” Antonio says.
Aleksy kicks at soot in the parking lot. “How am I supposed to figure out how much to pay you if the books are burned to ashes? On top of that, I now have to deal with fucking Fredricko!”
“You should’ve had our money weeks ago. Had you done that, you’d have known what the books said,” Antonio replies. “I’ll give you a number. Twenty grand. Tomorrow morning. Emilio will get it from you.” His lips twist into a cruel smirk. “If you don’t have the money, he’ll set your house on fire withyouin it.”
Not giving two fucks about the bowling alley or Rurick, I step toe-to-toe with Aleksy. “Who shot at my fucking car the other night?”
“I told you, I had nothing to do with that,” Aleksy fires back.
I hold his stare, allowing an uncomfortable silence to take over for a moment. Then, as I slowly pull back, I spit and then punch him in the face.
“What the fuck?” he yells, immediately reaching for his gun, and my fist comes into contact with his face again.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, turning and walking away.
Once we’re back in the car, Antonio says, “If he doesn’t pay, kill him. Rurick won’t care. Hell, he wants us to.” He calmly slips on his sunglasses. “Time to figure out a way to kill your brother-in-law.”
It’s beena long damn day.
It’s after midnight when I pick Liliya up from Julian and Genesis’s. She went home with them after they finished volunteering at the shelter.
She falls asleep on the drive home. I scoop her into my arms, and she curls into my chest as I walk us up the stairs.
“My husband,” she mutters, her lips brushing my shoulder. “I’m so lucky I was forced to marry you.”
I pause in the bedroom doorway, shutting my eyes for a moment.
She has no idea that I’m murdering her brother tomorrow.
No idea that she may hate me for it too.
45
