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I nod as the elevator doors open to our floor. My father owns and tends to work out of one of the largest highrises in Moscow. I made enough money on a deal to buy a floor from him a few years ago. We have since turned it into an office and home for the three of us.
Damien and Lev’s fathers are my father's two hands for the Bratva, which means they are his go-to men. Our fathers have always had high expectations of us, and that has caused us to need a space away from them. Especially because their fathers express their expectations very differently than mine.
A reception desk sits up front with a large glass meeting room behind it. We rarely keep it staffed, not liking to have people we don’t know in our personal space. To the left are our offices, Lev has the security and tracking office. The room is full of screens and all the different types of security drives he uses to protect our organization's private information. Damien’s office is plain with a basic desk, two chairs, and a single laptop. He runs a side of the business that we keep on lockdown. His meetings are discrete, and his research is usually done tailing targets and not sitting in an office. My space looks a lot like my father's. The man may get on my nerves sometimes but he has a tact for business.
To the right is a hidden security door, accessed only by the locked bands we keep around our wrists. We enter our sanctuary, the large open space bringing a sense of comfort. Long couches stretch out, centering themselves around a massive television we hardly use. An open kitchen sits on the back wall lined with windows that are tinted to conceal anyone from looking in no matter the time of day. The glass that surrounds us is bulletproof, and the walls are soundproof. We can truly get away from the world here and talk freely about any of our business dealings; legal or not.
We each change out of our meeting attire in our separate rooms. I hang each piece of my suit up as I undress, straightening out any wrinkles or folds before I send it off to be cleaned. Some would say I’m a control freak with OCD who has to remain in charge at all times in order to satisfy my need for order and power. I say I like what I like and everyone else can fuck off, and I may or may not say that while holding a gun to their heads.
When I get back out to the living area Lev and Damien are already sitting on a couch waiting for me. They are all too quick to wear sweats and a t-shirt or tank top, but I prefer my two-piece navy blue silk pajamas when I’m lounging around. It makes me feel like I’m still in charge even if I’m not in my perfectly tailored suits.
Joining them on the couch, I send in a grocery order that should be delivered by the time we’re done strategizing. Once the food is taken care of, I carefully re-open the red envelope. I lay out the contents so we can see everything clearly. The challenge is something I would feel confident about us pulling off even on our worst day, but the rules prevent us from using our family's organizations in any way, and that throws a wrench in things. The consequences of us failing the challenge are what has me on edge as we work through our plan. It needs to be flawless.
“Do you feel like we have a solid idea?” Lev questions.
“I don’t see any gray areas where we could be overlooking the rules. I feel good about parts of this plan. We get to steal from the governor who tried to blackmail our people. Our strategy is straightforward, which leaves less room for error. Plus, we can snag all three cars at once. What I’m worried about is the fact that we have a narrow time window. And getting the cars into shipping containers without being seen is going to be tricky.”
“I’ve got the getaway plan taken care of,” Damien says dismissively, having asked for dinner five times already. When the man gets hangry we all suffer.
“And what exactly did you come up with while begging for food for the last thirty minutes?” Lev questions, shoving him in the side playfully.
Damien flashes his phone at us, not long enough to see what's on it. “I’ve had this idea since you guys started talking; I was only now able to finalize it with a confirmation text.”
“Care to share what that is exactly?” I ask.
“Oh, I’ve got a special surprise for you guys. You’re just going to have to wait and see,” he replies, wearing a grin that has me concerned about the level of insanity he’s going to bring to the table.
I shake my head and continue on, “The part I’m most concerned about is failing.”
I look over the plan again, seeing all of the holes. There are so many ways it could go wrong.
“I don’t know about you guys,” Damien says, “but I sure as fuck don’t plan on bowing to any Kings. We will win, because we simply cannot lose.”
He’s so simple-minded, only seeing the large road in front of him and not the fifty side roads that lead to and away from it. It’s a blessing to see things like that, but I can’t stop my mind from seeing every other way this could go awry.
“What if no one else attempts the challenge?” Lev asks, almost like he hasn’t been paying that much attention to the consequences.
I answer this time, my shoulders feeling stiff, “If we fail and no one else attempts, we become slaves to the entire student body.”
His brows pinch as he says, “Fuck that, we’re not anyone's playthings. We just have to make sure nothing goes wrong then.”
I nod in agreement. “We need to make sure this plan will succeed.”
“And hope someone else’s attempt fails,” Damien adds, making me look at him in question. “Wouldn’t it be fun to have someone to boss around?” he asks us, practically bouncing with excitement. “Sending someone to get our food for us, making them kneel so we can use them as a footrest, making them run naked through the woods while we throw paint and glitter at them. The possibilities are endless.”
His giddy excitement over those ridiculous ideas makes me grin. I turn my head to hide it from them though. I’m the serious one, the one who keeps us safe and makes sure we’re successful. I don’t have time to joke around.
I clear my throat and respond, “Right, or we could use them to set an example of our power on Elysium. Make them bow in front of everyone to instill they see us as the rulers we are.”
I throw my idea out there, but they don’t bite. I’m sure Lev is analyzing how much more he could get done if he had someone to do the little things for him. Things like making sure he eats and drinks between getting our work done and setting up more deals for us on the dark web. We may be inheriting our fathers’ organization, but we have bigger plans for it than they do, and Lev is going to be the reason we get there.
The plan starts to come together in time for me to start making dinner. Most people assume we have our own cooks, maids, and cleaners, but we prefer to keep our space our own. Which means I cook, Lev cleans, and Damien walks around like the toddler of the family making messes and begging for food. It works for us, though, and it makes sure none of us have to spend too much time with our fathers.
???
We stayed up until midnight planning. My brothers and I have a hidden talent when it comes to getting revenge on people who have crossed us. I doubt my father even knows exactly how many threats we’ve prevented from becoming a reality.
Damien and I made a habit of going into town and making friends with the shop owners we promised our protection to. They pay a heavy price for it and we try to make it worth their while. Because of that, we have eyes and ears all over the city. We pay them well for their loyalty too, if they help us prevent a threat we rescind their protection payments and even offer to add extra security to their families outside of the business.
