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“It’s confusing the first time,” she finally said. “Each room is named after a woman.”
I stifled my eye roll.Of course they are.
“I got Svetlana. You got Anastasia… which is the highest-level tier. It’s the one where the most important clients stay. So, in all regards, you hit the motherload for the tip jackpot.”
For a moment I thought about just saying never mind and leaving. This was all so weird, and I was definitely an outsider. The women around me speaking Russian and the elite atmosphere solidified that.
I opened my mouth to thank Laura for getting me the job, but I changed my mind when the words froze in my throat as I saw a woman walk in. She held a stack of folded-up bills and proceeded to unroll them and count her very clear tip money.
Holy shit. There are hundred-dollar bills in there.I took a steadying breath and looked at Laura again. I could see by her expression she expected me to bail.Only this one time. If I make enough, this night will be agame changer.
“Okay. Let’s do this.” Even I could hear how hesitant I sounded.
10
Arlo
Petrov wants to meet you tonight atSdat'sya. Midnight. Sharp.
That was the text I’d gotten an hour ago, and as I pulled my car to the side parking ofSdat'sya, I checked the clock on the dashboard. Ten minutes until midnight.
When Leonid wanted to meet you personally, it was never a good thing. He always wanted something. Always tried to squeeze the last drop of blood from your body before he tossed your corpse aside.
And I knew what this was about. I knew Leonid was going to try to talk me into joining the Bratva instead of being a free agent—a mercenary even—with the Ruin. He’d tried before, but with men like him, they were never satisfied if they didn’t get exactly what they wanted.
Leonid was one persistent bastard.
I made my way toward the front entrance, pulled the heavy black door open, and immediately heard the soft sounds of traditional Russian music playing overhead. There was a Bratvasoldier situated in the corner of the room, his long leather jacket concealing the no doubt numerous guns and knives he had attached to his body underneath.
This front entrance room was nothing but the first layer ofSdat'sya. It was the makeup before you got to the meat and heart of what this establishment really was.
There was a bar across from me, a few of the clientele lounging on the dark brown leather couches situated around the room. The majority of the people were in the other rooms, each one blocked off from prying eyes and ears, all of them housing a powerful, influential, and wealthy clientele. This wasn’t just a bar; it was a place where a lot of the Bratva and powerful associates and allies who worked for and with them made deals, talked business, and used the amenities the Desolation Bratva had in abundance.
Drugs, booze, and women.
Behind the red and blacklight illuminated bar was a saying a lot of Leonid Petrov’s men lived by.
?? ??????, ??? ??? ?? ???????? ? ?? ?????? ?? ????
We sinbecause we're careless, and we don't think about it.Or so it was translated loosely into English. But the truth was, that was a lie. Anyone involved in our world knew what the fuck they were doing. They were aware of their “sins,” ones they didn’t even see as such because the fuckers got off on giving pain to others. Like me. Like anyone associated with the Ruin.
No one bothered me. No one tried to stop me. Some even looked at me with clear fear and hesitancy in their eyes. Anyone who worked atSdat'syawas part of the Ruin and therefore knewexactly whoIwas. They’d seen me at Yama, watched me destroy my opponents. They knew my reputation… the fact that I was a father killer. I wore that badge of patricide like a fucking honor.
I passed the bar and made my way down the hall. There was a Bratva soldier standing at the end by the elevator. He straightened from the wall and gave me a nod of acknowledgment. He said nothing as he hit the button for the elevator to go upstairs, and a second later the elevator doors opened.
I stepped inside, the soldier following me in. Once we were ascending, I sorted through what would happen tonight. The one other time I had personally spoken with Leonid was right after I’d killed my father. He wanted me to join the Bratva then. I’d professionally declined. He hadn’t pressed it, but I knew men like him. I knewhimspecifically. The way he worked, the things he demanded. How he expected the world to fall at his feet. And for the most part, it did.
But I wasn't like most of the world. I’d never submit to any man.
Leonid Petrov was dangerous and violent. He was a sociopath who killed simply because it was Sunday or he’d just finished a family meal. And his two sons, Dmitry and Nikolai, followed perfectly in his footsteps. Baby psychopaths in the fucking making.
“He’s in his office, waiting for you,” the soldier said in Russian.
I headed toward Leonid’s office, passing closed doors that led to private rooms for his clientele. There was a soldier standing off to the side beside Leonid’s office. He gave me a nod before turning to open the door for me.
I stepped inside and instantly took in the surroundings. You had to know the layout of any place to be prepared. I saw Dmitry and Nikolai sitting on the couch in front of the fire.Dmitry, eldest son to Leonid and heir to the Desolation Bratva underworld empire, watched me with the same sociopathic glint in his eyes I knew was reflected back from mine. I’d heard the stories of Dmitry, of his initiation, of how he’d slaughtered five men with brutal clarity and force that had even momentarily impressed me. He’d be the perfect Pakhan one day, no doubt, a leader who made Satan cower in the dark.
Nikolai, Petrov’s youngest son, let a slow, sardonic grin spread across his face. He might have been the “lighter” of the two in terms of brutality, but his easygoing attitude and what others might see as “soft” was nothing but a twisted facade of a man who I knew had once torn off the finger- and toenails of a poor bastard who’d cut him off in traffic.
