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Cousin,
We must speak. Viktor is in town and kidnapped my woman in an attempt to talk to me. Curious if you know what he's so desperate to contact me about now after all these years. My current phone number is below.
-A
Ten minutes passed before my phone chimed with a text message. My brow furrowed as I saw a local area code.
Unknown: Meet for drinks at Henry's on Burnside at 2pm? -S
Sergei was in town as well?
I sat up on the couch and gazed down at my phone screen. I didn't expect a reply, much less one within ten minutes and from a local number.
"Sergei is in town," I said out loud, still baffled at the turn of events. Who was overseeing operations in Moscow while Viktor and Sergei were both here?
"Really?" Kaleb replied, his head cocking to the side.
"Fuck me." I groaned and leaned back against the couch. "Guess I'm going to see my cousin."
Two hours later, I gave Lottie a lingering kiss goodbye and hopped in my Audi to head towards downtown. Kaleb didn't care for driving himself, so Oscar took him around, but I embraced the feel of the steering wheel beneath my palms as I sped through the streets.
Without Lottie in the car with me, I could let loose on the gas and not worry about her safety.
She hadn't liked being left behind, but I couldn't risk her. I didn't know what Sergei was like now. Just because I'd been told he was a fair and just man doesn't mean he didn't get up to all sorts of nefarious things behind closed doors.
Our blood was still filled with the taint of the Bratva.
I pulled up to the valet outside of the building and tossed my keys to the kid with stars in his eyes. It may not be the most expensive or fastest car in my collection, but it was certainly onethat turned a lot of heads. Thank you, Marvel and Iron Man, for making Audi's more popular.
As I entered the upscale gastropub, I buttoned up my suit jacket. I had dressed in my familiar fitted suit to put the mask back on, so to speak. Nothing like an expensive hand-tailored suit to make you feel more powerful when meeting a cousin you haven't seen since you were eighteen.
"Andrei." Sergei stepped forward as I glanced around the bar. He held his hand out for me to take, and I shook it gratefully.
My cousin had aged in the two-plus decades it had been since I laid eyes on him. The look surprised me. Something Viktor would have hated. It was the reason I grew my hair out after I left Russia.
Sergei was ten years my senior, and the gray in his hair showed his age, even if his face remained as handsome as ever. His hair was long, brushing his shoulders.
Courtesy of those same bloody Bratva genes.
I was hesitant as I approached him. Sergei and I were always friendly, spending a lot of time together despite that age gap.
He pulled me in for a brief hug and slapped me on the back. "It's good to see you, cousin. I wish it could have been under better circumstances."
I nodded and cleared my throat, following him to the small table he'd been sitting at in the corner.
Perfect sightlines to all of the exit points. No one to his back. Just what I would have expected.
"Why are you here?" I asked, cutting straight through the bullshit and right to the heart of the matter.
Sergei barked out a laugh, picking up his drink and draining it in one long gulp. Judging by the clear liquid, I'd bet on that being straight, top-shelf-label chilled vodka. "I've missed that tact."
The bartender came over, and Sergei ordered two more glasses of straight vodka. Guess I was embracing my heritage tonight.
We drained the glasses as soon as the man brought them over, and he handed us two more. These ones we would savor. Had to hand it to the man behind the counter. He was good at anticipating our needs. I'd be sure to leave him an excellent tip at the end of the night, even if I would insist Sergei pick up our tab.
"As for why I'm here," Sergei began. "Pretty sure you can guess I'm here at Viktor's orders. Or that’s what everyone knows."
Curious.
