He took a sip of his drink before answering. “I had a call from one of our brigadiers. I believe you have met Ramzin Kovalyov?”
I inclined my head.
Konstantin sighed. “He called me because he was arrested for human trafficking. With evidence. Dead to rights.”
“That’s unfortunate,” I said slowly, careful not to portray any sort of emotion. “It appears that Ramzin got sloppy.”
“Ramzin was never sloppy.” Konstantin’s face turned red with anger as he set his glass on the table between us. “I believe you set him up.”
Barking out a laugh, I did the same.
“Set him up?” I asked. “Why would I want to set up anyone that I am trying to obtain allegiance from?”
Internally I was trying to figure out how the hell had anyone gotten any dirt on Ramzin to begin with. The brigadier didn’t look smart enough to even carry on a human trafficking operation by himself, and if he got caught up in another, then he was not loyal to my Bratva.
After all, I demanded loyalty, and if Konstantin was making a threat that I had a rat in my own circle, then he was sorely mistaken.
Naomi’s face filtered through my thoughts, but I immediately dismissed them. She had taken enough time to tell me that she had seen me on the dock that day, and other than the cell phone that I had provided her, with a tracking mechanism of every call she placed, the only other people she could have told were my staff. They weren’t stupid enough to call the cops for her.
So, who had it been and why?
Konstantin’s dark expression grew even darker, and he leaned forward. “I don’t like these games you are playing.”
I arched a brow. “Games? You accuse me of playing games?”
“This is a betrayal in my book,” he stated. “You set him up. Why? To teach us a lesson?”
“Do you really think that I would set the cops on one of my own?” I asked, my voice neutral but lethal. “What would I gain from that? To teach you a lesson and, in the process, put everything of mine on the line?”
Doubt flickered over Konstantin’s expression, and I knew I had him there.
“I will find out who did this,” I pressed on. “But you will erase the very thought of me betraying you from your mind. That is my order.”
To my surprise, the brigadier just shook his head, a chuckle escaping him.
“Your order.” He countered, eyes gleaming. “Is that truly what you think? Do you really believe that a few bitches and coins give you the right to command us? From where I sit, I see no loyalty. Just a scared man making empty threats.”
“How bizarre,” I added lightly. “I see the same.”
In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to jack him up against a wall and show him what I was capable of. The only thing that held me back was that I needed his allegiance so the rest would fall in line. If Konstantin decided to walk away from the Belaya Bratva, or worse, started an outright insurrection, I would be forced to clean up my operation first.
And that would be when my enemies could strike.
“And I do not appreciate anyone accusing me of things I did not have a hand in,” I added.
The brigadier stood, wiping his palms on his coat. “We will see what you had a hand in and what you do not, pakhan, before I make any further decisions. But know this: if there is something going on, I will not hesitate to walk away.”
“A brigadier without a pakhan lives in danger,” I said.
“A brigadier without a pakhan is dangerous,” he replied.
Without another word, he turned around and walked away. My hand balled into a fist, and I willed myself to let go.
Konstantin was a problem, a major problem.
Anatoly waited until Konstantin had walked out before he approached, settling in the chair across from me.
“I can go and kill him right now,” he said as I picked up my glass. “Just say the word.”
I watched as the light danced off the amber liquid. “Not yet. I want to see how far he pushes me.”
If he pushed too far, then I would have a good fucking reason to kill him. Not only that, but if it came to that ending, I wanted the honor.
“Find out who turned Ramzin over to the cops,” I said instead. “Someone had to know about the shipment at the docks.”
Anatoly nodded. “I will look into it.”
Shoving a hand through my hair, I placed my drink down and stood. “There’s something else I want you to look into.”
Anatoly arched a brow. “Yes, pakhan?”
“Jon Hampton,” I answered in a near growl. “I want to know every fucking thing about him.”
In my first search, after learning about him just being a stalker, I hadn’t found anything. No social media, no public profiles of any kind, and no employment information.
Everyone had skeletons in their closet, whether they were legal or illegal, but Jon Hampton didn’t even have a fucking closet.
It was as if the man was a ghost, and that irked me to no end.
I felt like each search sent me down a path to another hidden trap. I wanted to know exactly what I would be walking into when it came to the man that I wanted to kill for my wife.
“Find something, anything.”
“It will be done,” Anatoly stated as I started to move toward the door. The manager was hovering near them, and when I walked out, he hurried to my side.
“Mr. Kirilenko, your food is ready and waiting to be delivered. Are you certain I can’t put you in one of our suites?”
I stepped toward him, enjoying the fear that reflected in his eyes. He started to sweat when I reached into my pocket and pulled out my money clip, peeling off five hundred dollars.
“Not today,” I answered, tucking the bills into the pocket into the front of his suit coat. “But I will make sure to frequent this hotel more often. So long as you maintain your excellent service.”
He smiled and I patted his chest before walking off, Anatoly hot on my heels. At least my name still carried some respect.
Now I needed to figure out how to instill that same respect in the remaining Krasnaya brigadiers.
***