“He had a few whores delivered this morning that still haven’t come out,” Dima smirks. “I wouldn’t say he isn’t having any fun. Who would want to leave that? One of them had breasts the size of watermelons.”
Ivan wretches. “I didn’t need that particular image in my head, idiot.”
Dima chuckles.
“Maybe I can grab one on their way out,” he ponders theatrically, tapping his chin. Not that Ivan can see him from his position at the back entrance. What scares me is that he sounds serious. “You know, interrogate them a little.”
Ivan groans dramatically.
“Do you really want to be sticking your dick where he did?” I ask my enforcer who sits next to me in our stake-out car. “You don’t know how many whores he has fucked or what kind of diseases he may have. Used pussy isn’t always good pussy.”
Another groan from Ivan.
“Eh,” Dima shrugs, tipping his hand back and forth undecided. “I’ll risk it. I doubt he stuck it in all her holes. I’ll just utilize the ones he didn’t.”
“Khristos,” Ivan swears. “Gag him, will you?”
I snicker.
“Oh,” Dima lifts his eyebrows. “Someone has a kinky side.”
“Alright, children,” Mark scolds through the video screen. “Don’t make me put you on separate comm lines.”
Dima winks at Mark while Ivan grunts. “Please do. Before I shoot him in the face.”
My enforcer gasps, drawing his hand to his chest like some Shakespearean actor. “Not the face,mudak. It’s my money maker youglupyy malen’kiy gnom.”
“Who are you calling a stupid little gnome, you?—”
“Enough.” My voice thrums dangerously inside the car. “For fucks sake. I thought I was supposed to be the younger brother, Ivan?”
Dima sniggers, and I go to round on him next before I am interrupted by Mark’s amused voice. “He’s got a call.”
“Patch it through so we can all hear.”
Silence, a few keyboard clicks, and then the car is filled with ringing.
“Kirill.”
A bolt of hate races up my spine at hearing his voice for the first time after so many years. The man who kidnaped and murdered my mother. Who tossed me on the street without a second thought to further his own greed and need for power.
His voice is hoarse and grating. He coughs, his lungs wet and rattling like a pack-a-day smoker.
“What the hell have you done, Kirill?” The man on the phone line snarls viciously. “How long did you think you could get away with playing me, brother?”
“Our father,” Ivan whispers through the comm line.
“I don’t know what you are talking about, Andrei,” Kirill sounds shocked; panicked. He didn’t know this was coming. We took everything Libby and Ivan acquired over the years on Kirill’s work and association. From his involvement in trafficking girls under the Chameleon Agency to his current profit skimming. Every nook and cranny was swept out from under the rug for Andrei Tkachenko to see.
“Don’t lie to me,” Andrei roars. “This is your last chance, Kirill. I’m flying there to settle this. I gave you one last shot, and you ruined it. Again.”
“It isn’t what it looks like,” Kirill begins. “I swear I had nothing?—”
“Are you telling me it is all lies?” Andrei hisses. “Because I am holding some pretty damning evidence.”
“It is fake,” Kirill insists. “Men who want to drive a wedge between us, brother. They know we are stronger together.”
Dima snorts derisively. I agree with him. The honey-buttered bullshit spewing from Kirill’s mouth is as much amusing as it is frustrating. There is no doubt in my mind the man will seek to worm his way out of his crimes with Andrei. Pin them on an unforeseen enemy. Play on his loyalty to him. His help in winning against his father.