Twisting Fate

I glared at my second. We were in the middle of an arms deal with the Colombians, and the last thing I wanted was to be interrupted. There were three other brothers they could contact that wouldn’t be finishing up a deal to handle something.

For once, though, he wasn’t smiling. Aleksei was normally a bit of a jokester and more often than not, he had a smile on his face, no matter the situation. It balanced my perpetual frown that was etched onto my face for years. Hell, I couldn’t remember the last time I smiled. Not even Aleksei’s greatest jokes would make me crack a smirk. An eyebrow raise maybe, but nothing would get me to smile; not anymore.


“Why are you telling me this and not contacting my brothers?”


Aleksei rubbed his palms against his pants. “Juri is in Russia right now. Kazmer is in Florida handling a different agreement with the new port opening, and Lev is arms deep in baby shit since the twins came home. It’s up to you, pakhan.”


My lip curled. Aleksei knew better than to call me that. I was not our Pakhan or Vor, as my brother preferred. I was the youngest male in our family. Not to mention the only significant talent I brought to the table was reliability. ‘And loyalty’ echoed in my head that my father drilled into me.


Being unremarkable in the bratva was very nearly death sentence on its own. My two sisters, one younger and one older, inherited our mother’s looks. They had been married off years ago. Juri was currently our Vor, head of our family, after our father passed. Kazmer was his second as the Master of Numbers. With a photographic memory, Kaz was an asset all on his own. Lev was the computer genius and hacker extraordinaire. At the moment, he had swapped out his computer duties for diapers since his fourth and fifth children were born a week ago.


My brothers and sisters were supportive of me, but in the pitiful way. They included me because they knew if I wasn’t, no one would give me a second glance. I’d proved myself over the years. Proved that I was reliable, a good soldier, a good brother, and I would do what was required of me to get the job done. That’s how I survived over these years. Having my own platoon of men under my command, only my Vor was higher in rank than I was in our bratva.


“Marek?” Aleksei looked at me expectantly, holding out his phone.


“Watch them. I trust them as far as I could throw the boat they shipped those guns on.”


Aleksei laughed, but nodded. Swiping the phone from his hand, I turned my back on the deal and walked a few paces away. Once I made it out of the warehouse, I took out a smoke and leaned against the black Escalade.


“Chto?” [What?] I growled into the line.


“Izvini, boss, but we didn’t know what to do.”


I let out a drag. “Laslo, I don't need your apologies. What I need to know is why the fuck you are interrupting me while I am working?”


“Yes, boss. Sorry, boss.” I had to force myself not to roll my eyes. “We ran into a situation tonight. There was someone in our territory. Specifically, near the strip club on the West side. We put them in the cellars, but before they passed out, they were requesting…help.”


My eyes narrowed. “They specifically asked for help from our guys? Or they were asking for help from anyone on the street?”


He was silent for a moment. “They knew our boys, boss. They didn’t ask anyone else. After they asked for help…” Laslo took a moment to finish his sentence, an irritating habit he had when he didn’t want to get yelled at. “…they asked to be killed.”


My eyes widened and my hand dropped a bit, the cigarette forgotten between my fingers. “Asked to be killed? How the fuck did they know to come to you?”


He hummed over the line. “I don’t know. But…the reason we even took them was because the very last word before they passed out was Morozov.”


I stood up from my lean. Morozov was my mother’s maiden name. Someone had to know about our family if they knew her maiden name. My father kept that information close at hand and made sure that after he changed her name to Baranov that all records of her before that disappeared. The Baranov Bravta was one of the largest and most feared throughout the mafia territories. We extended our reach all over the world, the biggest territories being here in New York and Moscow.


“Well, der’mo.” [Well, shit.] I pitched the bridge of my nose for a moment. “I’m two hours outside of the city. Before I head over, I need to finish up here. Don’t touch them until I get there.”


“Yes, boss.”


I hung up on him. Walking back to the warehouse after I stamped out the cigarette, I eyed Aleksei speaking with Columbia’s second, Paulo. Unlike his name suggested, the man was not wise. He’d tried to double cross us multiple times over the years without his boss’s approval. How the zasranets continued to still work for Ortiz Cartel, let alone still breathed, was beyond me. I’d kill Aleksei the first time it happened, and the man was like a brother to me, a cousin by blood.


“Ah! Marek! I was wondering where you scurried off to.” His thick accent made my name sound more like a slur than anything. Sometimes I preferred it coming from his mouth like that. The more he feared me and my brothers, the better.


“Business. You know, what you should be doing instead of standing around giggling like schoolgirls.”


Paulo clicked his tongue a few of times. “All work and no play makes Marek a dull pendejo.”


My fingers itched to grab the gun at my side and put a bullet between his eyes. At this point, I’d be doing Miguel a favor. Aleksei was behind him, giving me the usual ‘you kill him, and you do the cleaning up’ look that I hated so much.


“Let’s finish up here. You want to throw your cash into the ocean, that’s on you. We, however, have a business to run.”


Paulo had enough sense to leave me the fuck alone and yell at his guys to hurry. I followed him, Aleksei at my heels, as I looked through some of the crates that were being unloaded. Everything looked good this time. I knew Miguel had specifically said he would take responsibility himself if anything went wrong. His daughter was already arranged to marry Juri’s eldest son. He was only fifteen, and she was thirteen, but the match would be certain once they were a little older. It would solidify our tentative alliance.


One of the guys came up, whispered into Paulo’s ear, and he replied in quick Spanish. He turned to us and smiled wide.


“Well, gentleman. It seems everything is unloaded. Miguel wanted you to take a look at one specific crate and see if you were interested in adding a little extra. We procured these, and it wasn’t really on the planned manifest.”


My eyes narrowed. The last time someone said that to me, they opened a shipping crate full of women they had drugged and trafficked internationally. That was one thing we put our foot down on: human trafficking. We didn’t stop anyone else from doing it, that was a black mark on their souls, but we sure as hell didn’t touch that side of the business. Paulo walked over to a smaller crate that was closer to where they had been unloading the guns. Flipping the lid open, Paulo stepped aside and motioned inside.


Looking down, I eyed the two rocket launchers that were nestled in the crate among the wood shavings. “How much ammunition?”


“Twelve. Six for each or however you want to even it out.”


Nodding, I leaned down to see the side of it. “Numbers?”


“None. Never had any to begin with.”


“What does Miguel want for them?”


Paulo smirked. “Ten thousand for the two of them.”


I snorted and gave him an eyebrow. “Were you planning on skimming off the top of the profits, pendejo?” As much as he butchered my name with his accent, my thick Russian accent butchered his language.


He was quick enough to school his face. “I don’t know…”


“I’ll give you the five thousand Miguel already spoke to me about before getting here. I’ve added it to the total and already wired the money. Add it with the rest of the crates. Pleasure doing business with you, Paulo.”


Turning, I walked away from the asshole and Aleksei followed right behind. I was glad I spoke to Miguel earlier. I probably would have paid the ten thousand for the ammo and the fact that they were unmarked. What I was unwilling to do was let Paulo pocket that money. Motioning one of our guys over, I jerked my head back at the Columbian crew.


“Finish up here. I want every single Columbian out of here before anyone leaves. I need to handle some business in the city. Anything goes wrong, shoot them all.”


My men nodded and started barking orders in Russian, and they all moved closer to the crates and the guys to make sure everything got done. I got in the passenger seat of the Escalade and Aleksei got in the driver’s seat.


“Where to?”


“Goddess Divine.”


His eyebrows skyrocketed into his shaggy brown hair as his smile widened. “Are we celebrating?”


I looked at him and immediately he shut his mouth. “Work. Apparently, there is a stray asking for help.”