We also knew if the Russians owed us something, they wouldn’t come after Genesis for murdering their boss. Though Dima’s death was his own fault. The idiot made the mistake of kidnapping a batshit crazy woman and then letting his guard down with her.
Play stupid games, win stupid fucking prizes.
We celebrated Dima’s death and would much rather have Aleksy in charge than him. While Dima was reckless, he was at least qualified to run the Bratva. Aleksy is far from that. I wouldn’t trust him valeting my car, let alone running an empire.
The Bratva will fall under him, and we’ll have one less enemy to worry about. Our plan is to suck them dry financially, stealtheir businesses, and then either kill or force them out of the city.
Some say the more allies you have, the better.
But not when those allies are fucking idiots.
Aleksy’s upgrade to boss also meant an upgrade in living conditions.
I brake at the wrought iron gate in front of the estate where Yaroslav once lived. Two Russians stand guard, holding AK-47s.
Rolling down the window, I make myself known, and they open the gate before waving me forward.
The drive is around half a mile before I reach the front of the Morozova estate home. As a man who grew up around architecture enthusiasts, I can confirm Yaroslav had good taste. I’d guess the square footage is around the same as my family home. Sculptures and fountains surround the front of the home.
Aleksy and Lev stand at the top of the porch steps. I park and duck out of my SUV, and they walk in my direction. When we meet, Aleksy holds out his hand, offering it to me as if we’re about to make another business deal.
I reluctantly shake it, wishing I could tear the scrawny limb off his body.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” he says. “Not warning a man before you come to his home could result in death.”
He says this like a threat.
I cock my head to the side. “Is that your way of saying you’re going to kill me for this?”
He blinks, taken aback by my response.
“Uh …” He retreats a step, his hand falling limp to his side. “It was just a … comment.”
“Words of advice: don’t mention something resulting in death to another man unless you intend to kill that man.”
He takes a second to come up with a response before deciding to just nod. “Come on. We can talk in my office.”
I follow him and Lev inside the house and grimace at all the gaudy gold embellishments. It’s like someone gave a golden shower to every inch of this place.
We pass a room where a half-naked woman is snorting a line of coke. Another woman is beside her, and she squeals when they notice us.
She lifts her hand in a wave and shimmies her chest toward me. “That one is cute.”
“The fuck, Monica?” Aleksy asks. “I thought I was your favorite mob guy?”
Mob guy?
Jesus Christ.
Was his training watching the fuckingSopranos?
Monica giggles, scurrying over to us to cozy up to his side.
I scratch my cheek, annoyed I have to stand here and witness this bullshit.
“We need to talknow,” I say, breaking up his little party.
“Sorry, babe.” Aleksy smacks her bare ass. “Got business to do.”
