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Shaking it off, I shoved the thoughts down and kept driving.
It wasn’t like me to enjoy being told what to do, and while Mila’s request of me wasn’t the most difficult thing in the world, I walked out without telling her where I was going. Logically, it was a simple thing to do, an easy courtesy, but I wasn’t feeling logical at all at the moment.
That was nobody’s fault but my own.
Having left without a destination in mind, I decided to go to Ivan’s club. I wanted to see if anything was going on with the Balakins after our scrap, and it wouldn’t hurt to pick up a woman to ease my frustrations.
Halted by the thought, I slammed on the brakes, earning aggressive honks from the people who were forced to swerve around me. They shouted through their windows, and many of them threw up their middle fingers.
But I didn’t care. I was too startled by the idea.
Going and spending my time with other women was an easily accessible thing for me. It would be typical for me to cheat on my wife as many others did, but I couldn’t cheat on Mila.
No matter how bitter I still felt toward her, or how dysfunctional our marriage was, I couldn’t let myself do that.
I’d never shame her or myself by going that low. The trust between us was already frayed enough, and I didn’t need to make it worse.
At the end of it all, we were stuck together for life, through marriage and the child we shared, and there was no sense in making it even more difficult. I could either go home and make nice or stay mad at her. That was my choice.
Cursing myself for being an idiot, I put my foot on the gas and kept driving.
Not ready to go home yet, I turned down another street and continued, driving by a hotel I recognized.
Even though the Morozovs had the biggest control in Miami, the Balakins had their own hideouts. That hotel was the one they lingered around the most. We had stopped by a few times to ruffle some feathers.
As I coasted by, a man walked out wearing a leather jacket, moving like he was someone of importance. His identity didn’t jump out at me right away, but something about him seemed familiar.
I pulled up further down the street to blend in with the other parked vehicles, just beyond the hotel. I waited. Glancing through the rearview, I watched as the man climbed into his tinted Porsche likely somewhat armored as well. He seemed too wrapped up in his thoughts to notice me.
The more I looked, the faster the pieces clicked together in my head.
He was one of the guests at my meager wedding. One of Grigory’s men.
Letting my engine run, I waited until the man pulled out of the parking lot and was some distance down the road before I started following him. There were several cars in between us to seem less obvious that I was tailing him.
Curious about where he would be going, I made sure to stay close enough to keep him in my sight without causing any alarm. Driving my personal car was a bonus, since our men typically drove Range Rovers and the Balakins knew that. Even better, my car was tinted too.
Not that I cared too much for Grigory or his men, but there was no reason for them to be in cahoots with the Balakins. If they were conspiring about something, it would do me some good to take a few swings at him. I wouldn’t mind putting my sour mood to a more positive use.
I followed him for some time before his car pulled into a bar that I was certain wasn’t owned by any of my brothers or the Balakins. It wasn’t run by Lukin either.
Shrugging, I gave up on my suspicions. He could’ve been sightseeing while in Miami. We all knew how different Florida was from Russia, and there was no way for me to know if that one, in particular, would be staying for a long period.
Not everything was about the family business all the time, after all.
Almost disappointed to not be cracking any skulls that night, I kept driving and aimed to leave before the man realized I had been on his trail.
A ding from my phone caught my attention, and the message appeared on the dash monitor. It was Ivan.
It was the scolding message I had been anticipating.
Ivan found out about the conflict that I didn’t make any effort to de-escalate. He likely shook it out of Aleksei, who certainly would’ve claimed how many times he told me to keep it civilized.
In my defense, I had done what he asked of me. I didn’t take the first swing, but the Balakin head? He did. There’s no way in hell I’d let him rough me up without dishing it right back.
Another text came through from him.
“Get your ass here. Now.”
