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“That’s not true. There is a hotdog vendor around the corner. I like him.”
Rolling my eyes, I sighed. I was not going to sit around and debate with Maria about what she liked and didn’t like. I’d be here all damn day.
“Show him in.”
Moments later, Vladmir, the second in command of the Fedorov Bratva Family walked into my office looking more dashing than the last time I saw him. Vlad was a big man, like his boss, but a tad shorter. Wearing his standard tailored to perfection dark gray pinstriped suit, Vlad looked more like a CEO than the right-hand man of the biggest Bratva Family on the east coast.
“Vladmir.”
“Illyria.”
“What do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
“As you know, there is a meeting coming up soon with the heads of the families.”
“I’m aware.”
“He needs to attend this meeting.”
“No.” I curtly said. “I was perfectly clear when we last saw each other. I reiterated that fact to Montana before I agreed to take over this club. The Fedorov Bratva is welcome to use my club as a neutral zone for meetings, but he is to have no contact with me or this club. Only you may attend the meetings. Now, if that is all, I need to get back to work.”
“Illyria, please. This meeting is important. He has to be here.”
“Then I suggest holding the meeting at another venue because if he steps one foot inside this club, I’ve ordered Maria to shoot his ass on sight. And trust me. She has impeccable aim.”
“Uparyamaya zhenschina.” Vladmir muttered, and I grinned. “You have no idea how stubborn I can be, Vlad. He chose this course. Not me. Now he will have to deal with the repercussions.”
Returning to my computer, I expected Vladmir to get up and leave, but when he stayed seated, I sighed. “Is there something else?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“What isn’t?”
“That night. It’s not what you think.”
Narrowing my eyes, I leaned forward, placing my hands on my desk. I took a deep breath, I clearly said, “Oh, I think he was pretty fucking clear. His dick was in another woman. I saw them together with my own eyes. He knew the rules. Hell, he insisted upon them.”
Vladmir rubbed his face and sighed. “I know.”
“Then there is nothing more to say.”
Vladmir got to his feet and started pacing the room. He paced the room in agitation. I could clearly see him struggling with something. Whatever was bothering him, I could clearly see he didn’t want to tell me.
Sitting back in my chair, I watched him intently as he warred with himself internally. I’d never seen him so conflicted before. Vladmir was always the calm one. The voice of reason. He had the innate ability to quell the monster that was his boss. Not even I could get that bastard to see reason when he went off the rails, but Vladmir could.
“Do you know the story of how he became the boss?”
“Only stories. He killed his father and took over.”
“It’s more than that. Maxim was eighteen when he took over the family. A boy, really. He was attending University when his world changed. The Russian mafia, Bratva, differs from your Italian mafia. In your family, they hand the succession down from father to son. In mother Russia, to become the new leader, one must kill the former.”
“So he did kill his father.”
Vladmir sighed. “Yes, but it’s not how you think. A war divided the families back then. No one got along. It was a bloody war that few survived. The night Maxim killed his father, he did so to protect his sister. Anton, Maxim’s father, knew he wasn’t going to live much longer. The war was long and it was coming to an end. He knew his oldest son was coming for him.”
“I never knew he had a brother.”
Vladmir nodded. “Yes. There are only ten months between the boys. Anton was determined to have a house full of boys. His mother, Polina, died in childbirth one year after giving birth to a set of still born boys.”
