AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“This sign of disrespect—”
I cried out as Slavik grabbed my father, dragging him out of his seat and placing him firmly in his own. “My house! My fucking rules. Live by them, or I will cut your throat, treaty or not.”
Silence rang out and was only interrupted by the chef bringing out the first course. The scent of fish was too much for me, and with a hand on my stomach, I threw up all over Isabella’s designer dress.
****
Slavik
“It was a family dinner,” I said, not the first time either, and Ivan was still laughing. It would seem my father-in-law didn’t take kindly to my threats. “Have you had a chance to look at what I’ve sent you?” I wanted to get back on track, not discussing the poorly organized dinner.
Aurora had looked tense the entire time. I noticed the way her family treated her with indifference. They didn’t care about her. I saw it more clearly now than ever before. They’d given me and the Bratva a daughter they held no regard for.
After my wife threw up on her sister’s dress, Isabella had changed into some clothes of Aurora’s, which had started a whole conversation about the size difference between the two women. I’d immediately brought a stop to it.
Her sister Isabella had talked the whole time, and while she did, the sound of her voice grated on my nerves. Her family doted on her, though. It was like she’d hosted our party last night, not Aurora. As for the chef, well, he’d gotten what was coming to him. Telling my wife what he’d serve and not listening to her. He’d come from one of our restaurants, and clearly, he hadn’t been given the update on who was in charge. I’d enjoyed every single moment of reminding him.
“Yes, I’m looking at it, and it seems to occur during two specific times where the rate of men versus income differs.”
I listened as Ivan gave me the few remaining details of the puzzle. All I had to do now was go back to Cara with them and we could run down a list of employees who would have full access to the office, along with the ability to take money. It wouldn’t be a hard deal to handle.
“How is the lovely Cara these days?” Ivan asked.
With Ivan being in the tower of power, it was rare for him to see Cara. She was considered under my jurisdiction. Of course, if he actually wanted to see her, all he’d need to do was make a phone call.
“Well, from what I saw.” I’d never been one to make small talk.
“And your wife? Have you started to make babies yet?”
I ran a hand down my face. If Ivan wasn’t my friend and my boss, I’d tell him to go and fuck himself.
“Everything is going well.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Slavik. You and I know how important this treaty is. I’ve given you a woman because I know you’ll follow instructions and she won’t be dead within a few years at your hand. This play cannot work without all the cogs working. Get her pregnant and do it soon.”
He hung up and I stared at my phone before pocketing it.
I glanced up at the night sky, taking a final deep breath. The play was the chance to expand, to take more turf. With Aurora as my wife, it made the Italians look weak. They wanted an alliance to stop the bloodshed, as we’d been killing their made men for years. This treaty, however long it lasted, would gain us the power to completely wipe them from our list of enemies.
It was always about ground and money. Two of which always equaled power, and we always wanted a lot of it.
Entering the warehouse, I heard the screams. My men stood waiting for the instruction. The man hanging upside down, blood streaming from several slashes that had been made into his flesh, whimpered, and the almost animal-like sounds he made echoed around the room.
I’d long ago been desensitized to the noises of the tortured. This man had stolen from us. Taken product in the intent to hand us over to the law. We didn’t take betrayal easily. He’d also been trying to get out of the country ever since he realized he was the piece in a trap.
“No, please. No. I’ll do anything.”
I crouched down so we were at eye level. “Who were you going to meet with?” I asked.
After he’d called to try to buy protection for the information he believed he had, he went running to one of our enemies, the Italian mafia. This morning, I got the call from Fredo himself, the man willing to trade secrets. This was why the treaty worked.
“I’m dead anyway,” the man said.
I tilted my head to the side, looking at him. He’d already pissed and shit himself. The contents of his body swirled on the floor, creating a stink. I hated weak men. This man was the lowest of the low.
