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CHAPTER3
RUSLAN
After question-and-answer texting back and forth with Osip, I am given Rostam’s phone number and the go-ahead to contact him. I don’t immediately. Before I slip into my office, I watch the club as it starts to fill with men.
I see A-list entrepreneurs, there are a couple of actors, city officials, police, restaurant owners, and politicians. It’s going to be a good night, a good weekend, just like every weekend. The good thing about this business is, we’ve been able to harvest enough income between Friday and Sunday that the girls don’t have to work all week, and I can do other things for the Bratva as well.
Everyone is happy.
Slipping into my small office, I sink down behind the desk and close my eyes as I lean back in the leather office chair. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I touch the text icon and type in Rostam’s phone number.
THIS IS RUSLAN. YOU WANTED TO TALK?
I stare at my phone, waiting for him to respond, but he doesn’t. Instead, it starts to dance on the desk.
Picking up my phone, I slide my thumb across the screen as I clear my throat and answer, “Don’t you know nobody calls on the phone anymore?” I ask as my greeting.
Rostam chuckles, but I can tell that he doesn’t give a fuck about what other people do. He doesn’t respond to my statement, instead he just starts to talk.
“I have one of your women in my organization,” he announces.
“Excuse me?”
“You know who she is. I’ve had a man on her because I haven’t been sure about her husband. But instead, I found out she has a whole other life, aside from the life she has with him, one that includes you.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask.
He chuckles. “Can we meet in person?”
I think about telling him no, but at the same time, I want to know what the fuck is going on.
“Does Osip need to be there?” I ask knowing that he probably does, but also at the same time Osip said that he was giving me free rein on this to deal with whatever Rostam needed from me.
Apparently, this is something personal, but I have no fucking clue what he’s talking about. “I’m at the club all night. I’ll tell the front to expect you,” I say.
“Good. I’ll be there soon.”
He ends the call and I stare at the phone, wondering what the fuck he wants from me. I have no clue what he was talking about either. I’m completely lost by this whole situation. I think about calling Osip again, but I decide against it.
Instead, I call down to the security at the door and tell them to escort Rostam straight to my office when he arrives. I’m beyond curious about what exactly he wants from me. I have no doubt that he wants something, I’m just unsure of what it could be and what my involvement with his people could possibly be.
He arrives, wearing a suit and looking much like me. He is handsome for a man. I am no fool to think that he isn’t. He carries himself well, confident, and whatever else a man can be. He’s powerful and he knows it.
“You said you needed to meet in person?” I ask.
He walks over to the chair across from my desk and sinks down. His eyes find mine and he lets out a low growl.
“I did,” he says. “You and I have someone in common. One of the Russian Bratva women was contracted to one of my men when Vova and Kevah were in charge. I’m not sure what the purpose would be, but she is his third wife. The man holds no special rank, I did not understand why he was awarded one of your women. To be frank, I still don’t.”
“You are telling me this because?” I ask.
“The woman is one of yours, or at least she was. You know her.”
“I don’t know many people from this area,” I admit.
He chuckles. “You know Isabel well enough, I believe.”
“Isabel?” I ask.
