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CHAPTER8
Kirill
Construction.
I’d worked enough of it to know my way around a commercial site. Vladimir had made certain all the boys in his family worked in an extremely physical field. He’d told us it would make men out of us. I’d felt more like an indentured servant at the time, but after reflecting years later, I’d learned to appreciate the value of hard work.
Not that protecting the Kozlov Empire wasn’t strenuous. It had proven to be difficult no matter the situation. Long before Kozlov had fled Russia, bringing his family to the US, other mafia organizations had already established a firm hold on New York. That included the Italians, their third-generation family holding court above all the others including the Bratva. While they were dangerous, considered our number one enemy, the way Michael Walsh had graduated from his life as the New York police commissioner to the head of the largest union had taken a significant toll on our organization.
Another early morning call had interrupted my schedule. My mood was already surly, wanting nothing more than to provide the union with a message they wouldn’t soon forget. As I pulled my GTO into the parking lot of the massive casino under construction, I had a feeling that lesson would come sooner than anticipated.
Alexei was engaged in what appeared to be a heated conversation with two men. That didn’t concern me. The man could handle himself without issue. What did were the four men standing in the shadows while a solid two dozen of our workers gawked at the argument. While many of the workers hired by the Kozlov family and what I considered to be a worthless superintendent were highly skilled in their various trades, they weren’t fighters. They were only on the job to earn a paycheck, some if not all risking being threatened by the high and mighty unions. The reason they risked admonishment and worse was because Vladimir had insisted that the workers be given a salary even the unions couldn’t match.
Besides, many of them were in serious debt with the Kozlov Empire.
I’d known the meeting with Walsh had been a mistake. There was no reasoning with the man. Not that I gave a shit. Before exiting my vehicle, I grabbed my weapon from the seat beside me, popping in a fresh clip. While the Russians were known as savages, the Irish were unpredictable, their fury often getting in the way of rational thinking.
The brute inside of me was ready to start a war, but that wouldn’t stop the bullshit the union was tossing our way. Between the various trade unions, they outnumbered us. While only a small percentage was as corrupt, they provided enough influence over powerful politicians that the casino and our other two projects could be shut down permanently, buried in red tape. That wouldn’t bode well for the bottom line and even as hotheaded as Alexei was, he’d accepted that fact.
Still, they continued to encroach on our territory in an entirely different way than members of other mafia organizations. That made them equally if not more dangerous given certain unknowns.
However careful we were required to be, that didn’t mean we couldn’t handle egregious issues one at a time and in complete privacy. Which is why I suspected the head of the Bratva cleanup crew had also been called. Vassily Morkoff was known as the Savage for his methods of operation. He remained in the background, leaning against an earlier delivery of metal studs. Perhaps he was sizing up pine boxes for body parts. I snickered at the thought as I headed toward the increasing group of men.
I snarled as soon as I got closer, glaring at the worthless superintendent. He was useless in matters of negotiation, his balls the size of peanuts. I still couldn’t understand why Alexei kept him around.
“Get your men out of here,” I ordered, giving him zero opportunity to talk back to me. He knew better. It had taken one incident in the parking lot for him to learn to be terrified of my methods.
While I noticed he glowered out of the corner of my eye, he obeyed almost instantly, directing his men to go back to work. I moved closer, hissing under my breath when I noticed the asshole from Killian’s, the same shithead who’d been at the bar. I’d overheard the crap he’d given Candy. It had been difficult not to bash his head in. Given he was standing next to four other men I didn’t know, I’d say Walsh had sent him as the representative from the construction trade council.
The last man moved out of the shadows seconds after my arrival.
Rian Walsh.
The owner of Killian’s Bar and Grill.
The meeting with Vladimir and Alexei returned to my mind. His appearance wasn’t coincidental. My instant rage was blinding, creating the need to spill blood. While I’d learned to control the darkness I called my beast dwelling inside of me, Rian’s purposeful appearance was only fanning the flames. With one word out of his mouth, I couldn’t be certain I’d be able to maintain control. I took a deep breath, the stench of the man repulsive.
Even worse was the fucker dared to smile at me. He thought he’d found something to hold over my head. Perhaps he was closer to Candy than I wanted to learn. I’d checked through her things in her apartment before leaving. There was no indication she’d been lying to me, although the fact she was an actress had been disconcerting. She could be anybody she wanted to be. While there were also no pictures that had raised a red flag or any union material, I still had questions.
And I could tell by the smug look on his face that he was gunning for me.
If Rian even attempted to do anything, the fucker would learn what challenging a man like me would do for his lifespan. I took a deep breath, holding it as I walked closer.
While I’d expected my appearance would be discussed as well as cursed, I didn’t think the younger Walsh member had the balls to confront our organization without his daddy protecting him. From what I’d experienced, he’d left the politics up to his father, law enforcement to his brother. I cocked my head, giving him a hard onceover. Maybe things were changing.
He locked eyes with mine, studying me just as intently. The one thing I could say about the Irish, they usually wore their emotions on their sleeves. I could tell what he was thinking and what he was planning.
The kid wouldn’t make it within a block of me before I’d be able to detect his stench.
I moved closer, listening in on the conversation, my eyes never leaving Rian.
Alexei tipped his head in my direction, his expression ice cold. “The order for steel girders we placed two months ago was suddenly canceled.”
“Was it now?” I asked, giving all six men a hard stare. We’d been successful building our brand by issuing harsh punishment quickly and efficiently. The game of playing politics was disparaging our reputation as much as the attack could. I walked closer to the men, unbuttoning my jacket and allowing them to catch a glimpse of my weapon.
While most were appropriately afraid of the threat, both Rian and the man from the bar maintained their smiles.
“You know the requirements of this city,” Rian mused, his eyes remaining locked on mine.
