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I walked into the Gentlemen’s club to find the club girls all sitting at one of the tables. A few of the brothers lounged near them, not talking as they looked at their phones.
The patrons, long gone.
Finding Payne, I walked over to him as he said, “Club’s cleared. Shame is in the office right now, taking apart the computers. Storm is in the security room. He found something. You’re not going to like it. I called in your dad and the Rejects. They will meet us at the clubhouse later.”
Nodding, I looked at the girls. “What about them?”
“All are clean except Stacie. That bitch is a piece of work. Barney wasn’t lying when he said she had a hard-on for you. She’s been siphoning information to the West Coast Bratva. More specifically, she’s a sleeper for Boris Petrovitch.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?”
“Wish I was. Bitch has her hands in all kinds of shit.”
No wonder the bitch was so hard-up to get to me. Fuck me. That nasty piece thought she could use her body to get information out of me. Well, she was going to get her wish, but I was pretty damn sure she wasn’t going to like the attention I gave her.
“Fuck,” I cursed, as Mercy walked out of a room heading towards me. “Before you say it, I’ve already put out the distress signal. They are all on their way over.”
Nodding, I looked at Payne. “Get the other girls out of here. Give them two weeks’ severance and tell them to take a vacation. The club is under new management. As for that cunt,” I said, pointing at Stacie. “Take her to the mailroom. I’ll deal with her later.”
Payne left, leaving me alone with Mercy.
“What did Payne leave out?”
“Barney’s been laundering cash from Petrovitch through his club. He then funnels it to Benson in West Virginia, who deposits it into an offshore account. However, from what Storm found out, Petrovitch found out that Benson was stealing from him.”
“Shocker,” I deadpanned.
“Yeah,” Mercy said, shaking his head. “It gets worse, brother. Petrovitch sent some men to West Virginia to acquire Benson. Fucker is gone. However, Benson left a parting gift. Information.”
“Information on what?”
“Apparently Barney and Benson are second cousins or some shit. They’ve been working together since the beginning. To hedge their bets and ensure they live, they’ve gathered all kinds of information on all of us, Maxim and his crew, the Romano and Valentinetti Families, even information on Kansas’ club, the Diamondbacks. Montana, he knows who Dakota’s protecting.”
“Fuck!” I roared, picking up a chair and throwing it across the room.
“Yeah, motherfucker left it all for Petrovitch. Everything, brother. Our club affiliations, business contacts, family members, everything. Petrovitch now knows where to hit us and hit us hard.”
“Where is Benson?”
“In the wind. If the fucker knows what’s good for him, he better dig a deep dark hole and bury himself because when we let the others know, there won’t be a place he can hide. He just made himself number one on all of our hit lists.”
A loud whistle had me turning as Maxim Fedorov walked into the Gentlemen’s club along with several of his men. Dressed impeccably, the big Russian was something else, that was for sure. There wasn’t a fucker in New York City that didn’t know who he was and what he did. Those who had the privilege of speaking with the East Coast Bratva Don never lived long enough to tell their tale.
The man wasn’t called the Bloodletter for nothing.
“Montana,” Maxim greeted, extending a leather gloved hand.
Taking it, I sighed. “I wish this was under better circumstances, Maxim. We have a problem.”
Maxim grinned. “And how’s that?”
“Boris Petrovitch.”
Maxim sighed, shaking his head. “He’s west coast Bratva, my friend. He doesn’t do business on the east coast.”
“Yeah, well, shit has changed,” I growled, trying to assimilate the cluster of a motherfucker Barney put me in. I wasn’t even going to think about the other families. We all had a bullseye on our backs now thanks to two greedy fucks. Life was about to get really interesting in my city. “We’ve got a lot to discuss in the coming days, but right now, I’m going to need your help.”
“Boss!” a Bratva brother shouted, halting our conversation as the front doors opened again and in walked Renaldo Romano with his brother Romeo. Behind them was Salvatore Valentinetti.
