Chapter Four
Dmitri
Ikept my expression neutral as the last card on the table was flipped over, revealing an eight of diamonds. The other men at the table were also wearing their best poker faces, but I was pretty damn good at reading people. I took my time looking at each one, searching for any sign of what kind of hand they were playing with.
Directly across from me, an assistant district attorney was sitting with his elbows on the table, staring at the two cards in his hand with eyes that were dilated. After he snorted a line of coke just before we started to play, I knew he’d be the easiest to read. The fool didn’t seem at all concerned with how his drug use would affect his ability to play poker, which was why he had the smallest pile of poker chips at the table.
Mine was the biggest. It wasn’t because I was an extremely skilled player or math genius. I was just focused and damn good at hiding my emotions. That made me hard to read. None of the men at the table knew when I was bluffing.
I wasn’t now, though. The eight of diamonds and the eight of clubs were showing on the table, and I had the eight of spades and the eight of hearts in my hand. Four of a kind was definitely worth betting big on.
I raised, the other men at the table called, and I grinned as we all flipped over our cards. To my right, an executive from a big tech firm cursed, even though he was loaded and didn’t need to worry about losing money. On my left, my cousin, Lev, justshook his head and mumbled under his breath about what an asshole I was.
I rolled my eyes. The man had known me his entire life, so it was his own damn fault if he still didn’t know me well enough to tell when I was bluffing or had a good hand. I knewhistell. He always scratched the stubble along his jaw when he had a good hand, as if he couldn’t contain his excitement. He didn’t even realize he was doing it.
“You’re a real pain in the ass, Pakhan,” Lev said as I pulled the pile of chips in the middle of the table toward me.
I always told him he didn’t have to call me that after I took over the Bratva and the commercial construction company where he worked as a foreman. At least, that was his official job title in the eyes of the government. The truth was Lev didn’t know a damn thing about supervising a construction site, but it was a legitimate business for our syndicate, which meant it was a good way to clean money and provide a job for my men who were busy with other work within the Bratva.
There were plenty of them here tonight. As I looked around the room, I took in the various tables with games going on. This gambling den was owned by me and run by my people. Some of the Bratva were here, enjoying themselves, but most of the men gambling were corrupt wealthy businessmen and politicians. Friends of the Bratva.
There were some women here too, but most of them were dates of the men.Paiddates.
Alcohol was flowing, delivered to the tables by waitresses in sinfully short skirts, and the assistant DA wasn’t the only one here that was high. The smell of marijuana lingered on the jacket of a man who walked by, and I’d spotted the young heir to a huge hotel chain passing out LSD tabs to his friends earlier in theevening. The group of rich young people were now riding that high and acting like idiots at the blackjack table. But they were losing a ton of money, so I didn’t give a damn if they were being disruptive.
“Shall I deal another hand?” the man running the poker table asked me.
I was about to confirm when my eyes were drawn to a man walking into the room.
Nikolay was my closest friend, and one of my most trusted associates. He held the position of spy in the Bratva, which meant that the crux of his responsibilities included collecting information for me and keeping an eye on the bosses, called brigadiers, within the syndicate.
I could tell by one look at his face that he was here to tell me something serious.
“I’m stepping away,” I said, and Lev got up from the table with me, automatically moving into position at my side as I met Nikolay near the bar, where there weren’t many people standing to overhear.
“Good thing you’re here,” Nikolay said when he reached us, looking at Lev. “We’ve got trouble in Bushwick.”
I frowned and Lev tensed. As one of our brigadiers, Lev was in charge of his own crew, and that was the neighborhood where they operated.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“The Italians are stirring up trouble. I just got news of a street fight going on.”
“Fuck,” I muttered, already starting to move toward the exit. A public fight between our men and the members of another mafia—our rivals, no less—was bad news. The reason wewere able to enjoy the success we did, and hold the power we had, was because we kept the dirty parts of the business in the shadows. No drawing attention, no stirring up shit that could get the police after us.
I was sure the Italian shits were to blame. Bushwick, along with most of Brooklyn, was Russian territory, so if they were on our turf, it couldn’t have been for anything good.
It was a problem we’d been having a lot lately. The Italian mafia were ballsy, and they kept sending low-level men to encroach on our territory. I wasn’t sure if the goal was just to piss me off or if they actually thought they were accomplishing something, but my men were never going to back down, and Idefinitelywasn’t giving them any of my territory.
Even if it came to a war.
I didn’t want that, but if it happened, I’d make sure to win. For now, I was just reacting swiftly anytime the Italians came to Brooklyn to try to sell drugs or shake down local businesses. Swiftly andharshly.
Nikolay drove us to the scene of the confrontation, although I was sure it would be over by the time we arrived. I pulled my gun from where it was tucked at the small of my back, just in case.
I was in the passenger seat, and Lev sat behind me, muttering under his breath as he fired off text messages to his men. He was usually a laid-back guy, more so than anyone would expect from a major player in the Bratva, but I could tell he was rattled by this. The Bratva was split up into four brigades, each one run by a different brigadier who made sure ourboeviks, the lower-ranking soldiers, carried out the illegal activities that kept us in power. In the past, the Italians had fucked with other brigades, but this was the first time they’d invaded the territoryLev was in charge of. Even my easy-going cousin was angry about that.
“I’m talking with one of my men who was there,” Lev said before we reached Bushwick. “He says the fight is over. The cops showed up, but all of our men got away. There were four of my men involved in the fight. Shots were fired and Anton was shot.”