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“Fucking hell,” Gareth muttered. If true, then Andrei shacking up at the property very few people knew of made sense. That Vanya Guzun, who now hated Andrei fiercely, showed up unexpectedly, fit too. “Of course! Why didn’t I realize it sooner?” he berated himself. “Zafira Guzun is there.”
“Where? What are you mumbling about?” Gabriel looked sharply at him, relief washing over his face that the focus had shifted.
“Smirnoff’s hiding her at his house in Valley Lake, Codru.”
“You must be mistaken. He owns a winery in Dubasari. Why would he need a second house in Valley Lake?”
“I don’t care why people spend their money or how they do it, but that’s where he is now.”
“Now I know you’re stretching,” Gabriel scoffed. “Andrei is at a summit he arranged to address all the Bratva leaders, including those we swayed from the Red Bratva. You know what that means, Gareth. We don’t have time to waste. If he threatens them, they’ll pledge loyalty to him again.”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me about this summit sooner? Now it’s too late to intervene.” Gareth flung his smoldering cigar off the balcony, watching as it sailed through the frosty air before the glowing embers vanished into a snowbank. Rage ignited within him. Snorting angrily, he stormed back inside, Gabriel at his heels.
“It changes nothing. Andrei isn’t leading that summit,” he barked over his shoulder. “He’s here in Moldova.”
“You’re wrong. I swear to you, Gareth, he’s— Ugh!Blyad’!” Gareth’s fist smashed into Gabriel’s jaw, sending him crashing to the floor. His head cracked against the wood with a sickening thud.
“Shut your fucking mouth, you prick. You don’t know shit,” Gareth snarled, ignoring Gabriel’s pained whimpers as he struggled to his feet. He didn’t care about the blood dripping from the gash on the back of his head where it had connected with the fireplace’s edge.
“There’s a first aid kit in the downstairs bathroom,” he said brusquely as he poured himself a stiff drink. “Go clean yourself up and don’t get blood all over the goddamn floor!”
Gareth didn’t watch Gabriel leave since he was struggling to suppress the rage boiling inside him. If there was one thing he hated, it was his meticulous plans going off the rails. He had been plotting his convoluted role to become a global crime overlord for longer than he cared to admit. No one would stand in his way of achieving that goal.
At first, he had believed the Guzun Bratva to be his biggest nemesis until Andrei Smirnoff allied with his Uncle Janos.
“I should thank Vanya for killing the bastard if it didn’t completely fuck up my plans,” he muttered. He had controlled Janos Smirnoff easily enough. His nephew was an entirely different matter. Andrei didn’t bow to anyone’s command, not anymore. He had become a formidable power in his own right.
Now that the Pakhan of the Red Bratva was unleashing years of pent-up rage at the forced subjugation to those suppressing his leadership and taking control of his own destiny, the biggest obstacle in Gareth Sanders’ quest to become the ruler of all was Andrei Smirnoff.
“Fuck that. I will succeed. No one will stand in my way—not any of the five Sicilian Mafia families or Bratva groups, the Guzuns, and sure as hell not Andrei Smirnoff. The day will come when they all bow before me as their new supreme ruler, the one who will unite global crime as one.”
His eyes turned dark as he scanned the images from the drone.
“No one fucks with me. Playtime is over. Finally, we’ll see who is a real leader. The one who will put power and survival first, at all costs, even before family.” He cackled a demonic laugh. “Yeah, I’ll watch how the mighty fall, and believe me, they will all fall!”
Chapter Fourteen
A secure location on the banks of the Klyazma River near Chiverevo, Moscow Oblast, Russia…
One thing Andrei had learned from Arian was to always be cautious when arranging Bratva group meetings. Doubly so with a summit where leaders and members from various groups were gathered since it made them vulnerable to an outside attack.
The dimly lit warehouse was eerily quiet as Bratva leaders from across Russia and Europe filtered in. Andrei watched them enter one by one, his sharp gaze taking in each member. The encrypted location had only been sent to their phones five minutes prior—just enough time to arrive but not to plan anything nefarious. Those who didn’t arrive timeously weren’t allowed to enter and were detained until after the meeting was concluded. As per protocol, every attendee was thoroughly searched for weapons before being allowed entry.
A large oak table with ten red leather chairs stood prominent in the front of the room, facing rows of movie-like seats. The interior of the hall was purposefully dimly lit. The security guards were issued specialized night goggles to ensure anyone acting out of character was spotted immediately.
Seated at the center of the large oak table, flanked by his council, Andrei kept his expression neutral. He was cognizant of the rigid atmosphere hanging over the room like a storm cloud. In the world they lived in, nothing remained a secret for long. Word had already spread that some of the groups here today had pledged allegiance to the Sicilian Mafia in an attempt to overthrow the Bratvas and with the aim of becoming the world leaders in crime. To those who upheld the ancient Bratva codes, this betrayal cut deeper than any knife.
Andrei had no doubt that Arian Guzun would be livid to discover that many non-Russian European groups were here today. Moreover, that the Guzun Bratva wasn’t invited. His gaze sharpened as he spotted the leaders of one such uninvited group—a group that had a very intimate association with the Guzuns. In fact, their Pakhan was none other than the wife of Vadim Guzun.
Yet Sabira Guzun wasn’t among the five leaders of the Koval Bratva taking a seat in the back row. Snapping his fingers, his trusted bodyguard and personal advisor, Oleg Gusev, stood next to him within seconds.
“Put a group of guards behind the Kovals in the back row. Ensure the perimeter outside is secured. If there is anyone skulking around, lock them up for interrogation.” He snapped his fingers once again as Oleg turned away immediately.
“Da,Vor?”
“Detain the Kovals once we’re done. I wish to speak to their Underboss, Havel Novák.”
“Da.”
