Page 33 of The Bratva’s Monster

“Things are kind of tense right now.” Kostya gives me a cautious look. One that says, It would be best if Alex didn’t catch his wife out here eavesdropping.

“Maybe you ought to stay out of sight until he’s done,” I say. She looks over at me with cutting eyes and pursed lips.

“I’m not eavesdropping,” she says, “if that’s what you two are worried about. And even if I were inclined to do so, it wouldn’t be hard. You can probably hear him down the street with how loud he’s being.”

“Just the same,” I respond, “this might be a good time for you to take a walk or something. Just until we can get him calmed down.”

She thinks about that for a second, then, “Point taken. I’ll go get my sweater.” She goes back up the stairs, and we make our way to the back west wing of the house.

When we get to the door, there’s a thud so loud it shakes it. Shit, I think. Somebody just got the business end of his anger. We open the door to see him standing over one of the brigadiers, baseball bat in his hand. He’s on the ground, holding his arm as he tries to sit up and scoot away from him.

“Say it again,” Alex says. “I dare you to say that again.”

“I didn’t mean any disrespect, sir,” the brigadier says. This one’s named Andrei and from where we’re standing, all we can see is the top of his bald head as he tries to get some distance between himself and my brother. Everyone else sits around the table, watching with a mixture of expressions, but all of them are stock still with fear.

Alex points the bat at his head and snarls, “Say. It. Again.”

“The closest person to you w-was an Irkutsk.”

Oh, shit. That’s a mistake he’s not coming back from.

Alex smiles at him menacingly. “You’re saying my wife is the rat. Is that it? Is that what you fucking hens cluck about all day?”

“Sir, please, I didn’t mean⁠—”

Alex swings the bat, hitting him in the leg, once, twice… The third time, the room splits with the snapping sound of bone and his screams. Alex steps away from him, swinging the bat in one hand like a sword.

“In case none of you got the fucking memo,” he says, “when we’re discussing the matter of the rat in our midst or any other fucking thing that comes up, referring to my wife in the negative will be met with swift and decisive action. As for you.” He points the bat at Andrei. “Consider this your one and only warning. I ever catch you talking about my wife again, if I get word you were even thinking about her, next time I swing this bat, I’m taking your fucking head.”

“I’m s-sorry, sir,” he says, his voice high and shaking. It’s amazing. I once saw Andrei slice open a man’s eyelids for looking sideways at his girlfriend. It’s funny how the tide turns sometimes.

Alex leans down so that he’s staring him in the eyes. “The only reason you’re still drawing breath is because I am allowing it,” he hisses. “Don’t you ever fucking forget that.”

He stares him down for a second before standing up straight and lowering the bat. “The rest of you get the fuck out. Kostya, get Marius over here to clean this shit up.”

Kostya doesn’t say a word. He pulls out his phone and follows the rest of them out of the room. Alex nods at me as he walks toward me. “I need a drink.”

He steps over Andrei, and I follow him toward his parlor on the other side of the house. “I don’t believe this shit,” he mutters as we walk the hallways. “All the work that Dad did—that we’ve done—to build up this empire just for somebody to steal from us. When I find out who’s responsible⁠—”

“I’ll take care of them.”

He glances at me, then looks forward again. Nothing more needs to be said.

When we get to the parlor, he walks directly to his caddy and pours himself a glass of vodka. “This is how it starts,” he says as he takes a drink. “Dad ever tell you about Uncle Stan? And how he almost took all of this shit down?”

Dad told us a lot about the Pakhan before him and all the mistakes he made during his tenure. But what my brother is talking about is the time that he almost let a woman destroy the Bratva from within.

“You’re talking about Doris Latka.”

He nods. “He let her in. He trusted her, and she tried to bleed him dry. She took every secret he had and tried to sell it to the opposition. Caused a war that lasted years.” Alex shakes his head. “We’re not going out like him. Not over Gedeon’s poor choice of a wife.”

He downs one glass, then starts another. “You were there before you came over here. Any progress?”

“I didn’t have time⁠—”

“You had time the other night.” Alex glares, our mother’s icy blue eyes sticking shards into me. “All that talking at the charity ball and you’re telling me you didn’t find anything out? Seriously, Rikki? You do understand what’s at stake here, don’t you? Three of our fucking stash houses got hit. The Irkutsks got us for thirty fucking kilos. Somebody told them where they were, and outside of the two of us and Kostya⁠—”

“Just say what you’re getting at.” He’s starting to piss me off.