Chapter Three
Music was blaring as one of the girls twisted her body around a pole. She’d been joined on stage by her twin sister, and they had attracted quite the crowed.
“Bet you’re glad you joined me for this.” I glanced over at Alex watching as he slunk further down in his seat. He’d been nursing the same scotch for the last hour, and the scowl on his face didn’t seem to be going anywhere.
I released a groan and got up from my seat. “I’m going to get a lap dance.”
Alex rolled his eyes but said nothing, which pissed me off. I’d invited him out for a fun night, but instead, he was sitting around like a dick. I was tired of dealing with people who didn’t know how to have fun. The last year had been shit, and as far as I was concerned if I didn’t let off some steam someone was going to die.
“This is great man!” I watched as one of the guys threw fifty dollars at the twins. I chuckled. These ladies were about to make a fortune, which I’m sure was the point.
I kept walking past the stage. Big breasted blondes didn’t do it for me. The cliché was a bit too on the nose. Instead, as I walked towards the manager, I wondered if my favorite red head was working tonight, and if she would be willing to suck me off for an extra thousand.
The thought brought a smile to my face.
I scanned the club looking for that shithead Johnny when I spotted him. “Fuck me,” I muttered. Standing by the door was a meaty blonde who I’d seen before. His eyes collided with mine, and as they widened, I knew that he recognized me the same as I did.
“Get Alex,” I muttered to one of the guys.
“What?” He’d been transfixed by the twins, focused on having a good time, and now paying me any attention.
Looking at my men, I realized that most of them were plastered, and the ones that weren’t weren’t far off. Thankfully, I’d paced myself, so I wasn’t as fucked up. But I wasn’t born yesterday, and if one Russian was here, I knew there would likely be others.
“Fuck me,” I muttered as I looked abck at the doorway. The man was gone. He’d seen me and dipped as quickly as he could. But I knew this club inside and out, and I knew that he couldn’t have gotten far.
Reaching out, I grabbed the nearest grunt by the throat. His bloodshot eyes widened comically as he tried to focus on me. “Get Alexander, and tell him to meet me in the alley.” My words were low and dangerous. “Tell him to bring a gun.”
I dropped the guy and started for the back entrance. Though the man had been working the front and could have easily slipped out, I doubted that had been the move.
The Russian’s were like cockroaches. They liked to scatter for dark nooks when you shined a light on them. The club spilled out onto a quiet side street. There would be few places to hide, and fewer witnesses. We were also Uptown, which meant that a gunfight would draw attention, the kind people like us cared to avoid.
No, this dickwad would try to escape out the back.
I walked with purpose, trying not to draw too much attention to myself. Red’s wasn’t just a place where mafia boys like to spend their money. There were politicians and CEOs in the mix. The type of people I didn’t want poking their nose in my business.
I spotted the back door closing, and I smirked to myself. He’d had no more than a minute on me.
The thrill of this cat and mouse chase got my blood pumping. I could feel it sobering me up as I reached for the gun on the waistband of my jeans. Red’s never checked for weapons since most of their clients had bodyguards, and I’d never been happier about that fact.
For a brief moment, I considered that I could be walking into a trap. After all, I was one man, an armed one, but I was alone, and the Russian had the advantage of knowing I was after him.
It would have given someone else, maybe like Alex or my brother Dom pause. They might have let the bastard go. But not me. I was New York’s deadliest enforcer, and you didn’t get that title by sitting back and assessing risk.
As I walked through the doorway, I did a quick scan of the alleyway, assessing the space to see if anyone else was out there.
“You didn’t get far,” I said, as I saw the blonde haired Russian from the club. He whirled around on me, his gun pointed at my chest.
“You followed me.”
I raised a brow. “Looks like.” My own gun was leveled at his head, and I was more than willing to pull the trigger. Normally, I would have already, but I wanted some information. I wanted to know how this guy managed to get away from the carnage that night at Katarina’s family home.
“You should have pretended like you hadn’t seen me,” he told me. There was a note of something in his voice that I couldn’t quite pick up. It made me hesitate for a moment, but only a moment.
My grip tightened on the gun handle. “Why are you here? Isn’t bouncer a downgrade from your position in the Bratva?”
If he suspected that I was trying to garner more information from him about the organization, he didn’t let on. Fear fell over his face at the mention of the Bratva. “Or maybe,” I said, waving the gun around slightly, “the new Pakhan doesn’t much like traitors, does he?”
I knew I was correct the minute the color drained from his face. I couldn’t help but chuckle. The Bratva was in shambles, but it was nice to know that those who had turned against Isaac Petrov for his crazy ass wife weren’t being accepted back into the fold.