Shortly after turning eight, his father moved them over from Russia. At that age, everything seemed like one big adventure. Little did he know the deadly, bloody dreams driving them to their new country. His father wanted power and knew this is where the greedy came to thrive.
A year after arriving, Sevastyan had met Matteo, Lucian, and Roman. Friendships formed quickly and alliances were formed. They had a lot in common, mainly their various fucked up families, but other things too. As they got old it turned from childish likes to the love of expensive fast cars, drinking vodka, and knowledge of all things. While his father wanted him to focus on making connections that would push him higher on the ladder in their world, he saw value in having people around him that would have his back.
It had been that way from elementary school and playground fights to college and being the kings of their campus. Nothing ever happened without their approval.
Only a few months before they all graduated from college did they discover they also liked sharing their women. But they went through many relationships to find out not many women liked the idea of having four men wanting them. It was too much to handle.
Matteo drew quiet when Sevastyan only nodded, preferring to drown his feelings in a bottle of Moskovskaya vodka. He peeled the edges of the green label.
“They’ll understand.”
“I guess we’ll see about that soon enough. Lucian sent a text. Wants us downstairs. He might have found something. Said you wanted to go over security for the place, too?”
Right. He’d been so wrapped up in his thoughts he’d forgotten.
“That’s a first.”
“What?”
“You forgot your own damn meeting. She did a bigger number on you than I thought. Let’s see how long you can stay away my friend.”
Sevastyan lowered his full weight into the overstuffed sofa beside Matteo and rested his elbows on his knees. “Fuck you, Matteo. Don’t worry about me,” he growled.
Matteo scoffed, reaching for the bottle. “If I didn’t, you’d already be in a hole along with our brother.”
Sevastyan pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off the pressure that built between his eyes. “Have you found anything out with your connections?”
“You mean since you asked me last night? No.”
Five months and they still had next to nothing on Mikhail’s murder.
Matteo shook his head. “No one is talking and I can’t go around killing anyone else or they’ll really clamp up.”
“Then start passing out cash. Favors. I don’t fucking care. I want this done and over with so I can burn this fucking place down.”
“Easy, brother. We’ll find someone. They’ll talk. Let me do more hunting.”
Sevastyan scraped a hand over his face, the weight of all the sin that came with the Volkov name pressing on his shoulders. “Find something. I have my hands tied in this fucking club. All eyes are on me. One false move and our hand will be exposed.”
“What the fuck do you think I’ve been doing?” Matteo bellowed, making Sevastyan’s fist clench. “Don’t you think I know that?” Matteo scrubbed a hand over his face and sat up, leaning his elbows on his knees.
In a calmer tone, he continued, “I can only push so hard so fast before I get doors slammed in my face. Let me do my job.”
Sevastyan stood and crossed the office to sit behind the enormous desk. “We can’t stop digging.”
“Someone has been going behind your back, shutting people up. Bodies have turned up a V carved into their foreheads. Three last night. People are scared of us.”
“Who’s behind it?”
“Another mystery.”
“This is taking too damn long, brother. We need to move faster.” A sense of urgency plagued his senses.
“I don’t need to be reminded.”
Sevastyan glowered at Matteo's retort.
Someone knew something. They only needed to find the right vein to tap using Matteo’s connections to the nightlife that pulsed through the underbelly of this city.