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I nestle in his warmth, listening to the steady beat of his heart as he holds me. For this moment, and probablyonlythis moment, I feel whole again. The world can’t hurt me when I’m close to Pasha Chazov.
I’m okay, if only for today.
17
Pasha
Iwant Valerie to sleep over tonight, but she refuses. It frustrates me, but she has a way of resisting me when I least expect it. It’s like she wants to see how far she can push me until I give up on her.
But failure isn’t an option for me. The game is long and the cost is too high for most people, but the prize is sweeter than heaven’s nectar. I will allow Valerie to stay at her own place for tonight, but it won’t be for long, and not without protection.
If Anatoly has eyes on my club, he might know that I’m involved with her. He has a lot of time on his hands. He’ll find out where she lives and then she’s no longer safe.
So, I will make arrangements to have her removed, even if it isn’t what she wants. Her safety is more important to me than anything else. A sour attitude is nothing compared to the swing of the reaper’s blade.
Valerie can’t be trusted by herself, either. It isn’t even just about Anatoly. The way she immediately left me to find a dealer makes me feel like her little coke problem is a lot bigger than she wants to admit.
But I’ve dealt with an addiction myself, and I know how difficult it is to get past it, especially when you feel like it’s the only thing that’s keeping you from ending it all. Valerie needs help, but she doesn’t want it yet. I can’t force it on her, but I can do my best to keep her out of trouble.
And that starts with the supply. I’m in charge of every atom of cocaine that gets passed through this city, at least on the north side. It’s half my business, and why I’m able to buy so much property.
The idea is simple. I purchase luxury apartments and nearby clubs, and I sell them cocaine. It takes an especially ruthless person to put such a dastardly substance into the hands of a population with more money than sense, but if it wasn’t me and the cocaine, it’d be Anatoly and his goddamn fentanyl.
I’m concerned about Valerie because of that. It’s not just that idea of her snorting herself into a miscarriage, but the fact that she’s bound to get some laced coke eventually, and that could be the end of her life.
In the blink of an eye, everything could change. That’s why I can’t have anyone selling drugs to her. I have to take drastic measures to keep them out of her vulnerable hands.
I sigh, reclining in my chair at seven in the morning as the sun rises, smoke circling my head as I think of how to deal with Valerie. She’s more than an obsession now. More like aresponsibility, and that’s a tough road to go down for a man like me. I can handle money, but women are difficult.
I take a puff of my cigar, letting smoke seep out from between my gritted teeth. I haven’t gotten a single minute of sleep, and I doubt I’ll have time to take a nap today. I’d allow it if Valerie were here, but without her, sleep feels pointless.
The sun falls across my desk, rising slowly as the world wakes up to the reality I’ve always known.
Somber, a little morose and reckless, but ultimately gray. The dashes of excitement I do feel are from irresponsible behavior, things that would make my dad pull his hair out if he were alive to see them.
God rest his soul. He was a good man.
Well, as good as a Bratva boss could be, but he took care of the family. That’s more than a lot of men these days are willing to do.
More than Anatoly would do, I’m sure. He has a couple kids already, if I’m not mistaken, but he doesn’t see them. Nor does he care. He’s absent, and he’d do the same to Valerie if he got the chance.
Pump them and dump them. That’s what he said to me when we still spoke to each other. He thought it was a game, but he didn’t understand the consequences of leaving a woman alone with her child. A woman who trusted you.
I throw my cigar into the ashtray, trying to dismiss the thought of Valerie ever having to be alone. Not only do I have to protect her, but I have to ensure that nothing happens to me. I wouldn’t leave, but there are no fewer than a dozen people who would take great pleasure in putting a bullet through my skull.
Safety has never been so important, but then why do I feel more reckless than ever?
Boris knocks on the door to my office. I know it’s him because of the way his meaty hand lands on the door. It’s a slow, muffled thud.
Boris is a welcome distraction from my thoughts, but I’m worried about why he’s decided to show up to my office so early. Does he want to check that I’m still alive after going to a club with minimal security last night? Surely, he doesn’t think I’m that weak.
“Come in,” I bark.
The door opens, and Boris walks in with his hands clasped together. He’s usually not this timid, so there must be something wrong. I’m not sure I want to hear it after last night’s success. Something tells me it’s going to spoil the mood.
But I can’t wait for him to speak if he’s going to act this way. It’s driving me crazy and he’s only been standing in front of my desk for a few seconds.
“Alright, spit it out,” I grumble.
