Glazov's Legacy (Born Bratva Book 2) (15 page)

Glazov

I walk into the prison, going through what looks like standard procedure to anyone who doesn’t know the inner workings of paying off guards. I’ve set up a meeting in a small, private room where, for the right price, the surveillance cameras will be forgotten to be monitored or, perhaps, even turned off.

I eye the man sitting across from me. His name is Fyodor Stanislavski Sergeyevich, but we call him Ivan the Terrible; it suits him. The man is close to seven feet tall and weighs well over 350 pounds, none of it being fat. When he walks, the walls vibrate, or at least, if he is headed in your direction, you feel like they are.

I brush my suit off and eye my surroundings with contempt. I do everything I can to avoid prisons or jails.

“Just fucking kill me if I am ever incarcerated,” I say under my breath.

“Yeah, boss. Sure, boss.”

“Lay a fucking hand on me, and I’ll cut your throat myself, Ivan.”

“Yeah, boss. Sure, boss.”

I just shake my head. Ivan isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he can damn sure get a hit done inside the joint or out. The guy’s loyalty knows no bounds when it comes to Bratva; it’s all he’s ever experienced. His father and his father’s father before him were Kryshas, and they were two of the best enforcers we’ve ever had. Ivan is a Torpedo, a contract killer, and he has been trained to kill from birth. He succeeded in his first job by the age of fifteen when he killed a man that had been threatening his father. He just walked right up to the guy on the street and shot him between the eyes. He’s been killing ever since. The Bratva life is all he has ever known. It is all he will ever identify with.

“Ivan, how are our little gangbanging friends doing?”

“Fighting, boss, just like you said they would.”

“Okay, Ivan. We’re going to do things a little differently this time. I want you to start spreading some rumors, nasty little things like someone in their organization has been selling info. You know, destructive little rumors like one of them is working with the FBI.”

“Sure, boss. I was kinda hopin’ I was gonna get to kill somebody though.”

“Ivan… I want you to do as I tell you.”

I take a moment to look directly into his eyes, ensuring he understands the gravity of what I’m telling him to do, or in this case, what I’m telling him not to do. I don’t want Ivan choking the shit out of someone for entertainment; it could ruin my plan.

“Boss, I’d never take it on myself to kill someone without orders from you.”

I decide to change the subject. Ivan is a lot like a kid in that it’s very easy to divert his attention.

“Your family is doing very well, Ivan. We’re making sure they have everything they need while you’re on the inside.”

Ivan’s face beams with joy. Though his wife is just a plain housewife who looks the part, still set in her old Russian ways, and his daughter looks too much like her father to ever be considered a raving beauty, in his eyes, they are royalty. For Ivan’s sake, we treat them as such while he is away.

I stand and straighten my jacket, intending to go straight home to wash the stench of prison from my body.

“I’ve made certain you have commissary money, cigarettes, and reading material.”

Ivan’s idea of reading material is nothing more than porn magazines so he can jerk off. As far as I’m concerned, the man deserves as many pleasures as I can afford to give him while he’s locked up. I will certainly make sure he has them. Ivan is a good man, and I am as loyal to him as he is to me.

“Thanks, boss.”

“Very well, Ivan.”

With that, I quickly leave and get into the car where my driver is waiting. Had it been anyone but Ivan, I doubt I would have come here personally. There is very little I fear, but being behind bars is at the top of the short list.

Agent Turner

I learned a long time ago, no matter how squeaky clean a man in any branch of law enforcement is, he’s going to identify with criminal elements on some level. For some odd reason, Alexander Glazov has decided that now is the time to form an alliance of sorts with me. I just can’t help but wonder why. Why me? Why now? From the beginning, I suspected that Glazov had a hand in the rescue of that woman. After questioning the gang members one at a time, I was now certain. Though most capitalized on their right to remain silent, there was one man who hadn’t. That is the interview tape I was listening to with my partner as we reviewed it… again.

Man, I’m tellin’ ya. Dude said that motherfucker was huge, like a brick wall comin’ at him. Said before he knew it, the guy had his forearm around him and choked him out. We couldn’t just let that shit go, man. There was a lot of money ridin’ on that bitch makin’ that snuff film. What the fuck kind of gangsta goes around rescuin’ bitches? That’s what I can’t figure out.

After questioning the man for another hour and finding out the woman was originally taken from Antonio Wayne, I am finally starting to understand what is going on.

It appears there was an incident in which Haitian pirates boarded one of Antonio’s ships at sea and stole from him. In retaliation, Antonio and his brother, Ricardo, had all but wiped the gang out internationally. Apparently, the brothers missed a small band of them, and in an attempt to make a name for themselves, the Haitians took one of Antonio’s women with the intent to kill her in a snuff film. Now that I am convinced Glazov was the one who rescued the woman, I want to know why he feels the need to strengthen his alliance with Antonio and secure a relationship with me. My partner’s voice interrupts my thoughts.

“You’re never going to figure out why these guys do what they do. They’re gangsters, so they’re always working an angle. Just let it go, and be glad the girl got rescued.”

I turn to look at her, taking a moment to admire her red hair and green eyes before I give her a smirk.

“As OCD as I am, you know that’s never going to happen, girl.”

“There are some things we don’t need to know. Just be glad you have an in with two of the most ruthless gangsters alive.”

“Are you saying to keep my enemies close?”

“You’re damn straight I am.”

Kathleen

I’m sitting in my kitchen and looking at Natasha, trying to figure her out. She looks more like a soccer mom than a ruthless Russian hit woman, so much so that it’s an ongoing joke in our family. The girl is good at what she does though. When it comes to cleaning up a crime scene or executing a kill, she can run circles around any one of the men in our organization. It’s the reason my husband uses her. She works for him and him alone. I’m going to have to be upfront with her, and at this point, I really don’t care how Glazov feels about it.

“Natasha, this whole thing where you’re putting your relationship with Nikita on hold isn’t necessary.”

“I don’t want Glazov to feel like it’s a conflict of interest.”

“Glazov would love nothing more than to see you walking down the aisle with his eldest son.”

“Kathleen, why the sudden interest? There’s something you’re not telling me. What’s going on? Is there another woman?”

As if fate is smacking me in the face, Nikita and Sofia walk in the room, and Natasha’s eyes go ice cold. The only good thing about this meeting so far, is that right now, my son looks like he just got bitch slapped. I’m finding it very humorous too; it serves him right for playing games.

His voice is low as he speaks.

“I need some privacy, Sofia. It might be better if you grab your snack and then go to your room for a moment."

The air is so thick with tension that it’s almost palpable. The women look each other over for a long while before Natasha finally breaks the silence.

“Yes, Sofia, I’d like a moment to speak with Nikita alone.”

Sofia is smirking and taking her sweet ass time grabbing a snack, making it abundantly clear to not only me, but Natasha as well, that she’s interested in my son.

Nikita is staring at the woman as she prances around barefoot in a long, cotton muslin skirt. After what seems like forever, she finally leaves. Natasha wastes no time and immediately starts questioning my son.

“Are you fucking her, Nikita?!”

“No, I am not.”

“Well, it’s pretty clear she wants you to.”

My son is leaning against the doorframe with his legs crossed at the ankles, looking as nonchalant as a man can look, when Natasha shocks me by charging at him full throttle.

He comes off the wall, quick as a feral animal, and grabs both of her hands to pin her to the wall. He kisses her—hard—which is my cue to leave. Maybe Natasha did need a little push in the right direction.

I make my way out of the kitchen and into my office so I can make flight reservations for our guest. She is leaving tonight before somebody gets killed. I can’t help but chuckle at Nikita’s dominant display with Natasha. The boy is just like his dad; that’s for sure.

After finishing up Sofia’s travel arrangements, I head up to our guest’s room where she is already packing. Under normal circumstances, I would try to befriend a guest staying in our home, but this situation is anything but normal. In fact, it’s quickly spiraling out of control.

Trying to cut through the awkwardness of the situation, I tell her, “I’m certain your sister will be happy to see you.”

“I’m ready to go see her too. I certainly don’t want to come between Nikita and his girlfriend.”

I ignore the fact that her tone is snarky. I just want this girl gone… like yesterday. As far as I’m concerned, she can’t get out of here fast enough.

I don’t even try to deny the truth of her statement when I candidly answer her.

“Nikita and Natasha are childhood sweethearts, and it probably is in your best interest to leave and return to your family.

I hug her goodbye; it will be the last time I see her before she goes. Now, I only have to worry about dealing with my husband when he returns home tonight. Better to deal with him than a dead body though. That’s what I’m hoping anyway.