“She’ll be fine. It’s only her trainer. You vetted him yourself.”
I had vetted Corbin Davis. He was clean. And bi-sexual, though his sexual preference didn’t matter to me. He’d had the same boyfriend for two years. They lived together in Culver City. The few times I spied on Simone and him at the gym, I didn’t like how he touched her. It didn’t feel right, but I couldn’t do anything about it. The guy may have had a boyfriend but it didn’t mean shit. Corbin liked women too. And I didn’t want him alone withmywoman.
“Let’s stick to why I’m here. What did the Bratva say?” I wanted to get this meeting over with so I could return to Simone’s. But, shit, I also needed to deal with Conrad. I had texted my buddy Mack, the Jagged Lords’ president, to see if he could put one of his brothers or a prospect on Conrad overnight while I stayed at Simone’s. I hadn’t heard back from him yet.
York sighed and puffed on his cigarette. Something told me I wasn’t going to like what he had to say.
We were sitting in his car out at the beach, a few miles from Simone’s place. I had him meet me here so I wouldn’t be too far away from her. Should something happen, I could get to her in less than ten minutes if I hauled ass.
“What? Does he owe more than the seven hundred and thirty grand?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck! How much more?” The muscles in my shoulders coiled as my stomach twisted. Conrad hadn’t told me the whole truth. Jesus, I could kill him. I knew there had to be more going on with the Morosovs. Fuck!
“They don’t want more money. Abram wants your brother dead. He took something that can’t be repaid.”
“Bullshit. Everything has a price.” My heart slammed into my chest. This was supposed to all be over in less than two weeks. I would pay Conrad’s debt and his life wouldn’t be in danger. Then I could focus on Simone. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
“Not this.”
“What did he do?” I couldn’t imagine what Conrad had done to piss these people off. He wasn’t a violent person, so I knew he hadn’t killed anyone. He also wasn’t the smartest person. The proof was his insanely high debt to the Russian Mafia, but shit, what in the hell had my brother gotten himself into?
York took a drag of his smoke and slowly blew it out. “Abram Morosov has one child, a daughter, Anya. She is precious to him. His wife, Regina, died during childbirth.” He took another drag.
“Come on, York. I’m about to lose my mind. What does Abram’s daughter have to do with this?”
“Your brother took her virginity and got her pregnant. She was betrothed. Was supposed to be a virgin. Now his alignment with the Antonov family is dead in the water. So is your brother.”
I dropped my chin to my chest and squeezed my head between my hands. “Jesus…” My emotions spanned fear and sadness, anger and remorse. And gut-twisting guilt for failing my brother. “What about the baby? You said he got the girl pregnant. What do you know about her? When was this?”
“My contact said their affair began last December when your brother arrived in Atlantic City. She was home from college. She’s twenty. After she graduated, she was to marry Ivan Antonov. She didn’t want to. I think she had sex with Conrad purposefully so she would no longer be pure.”
“Christ. And the baby?”
“She had an abortion last month. She’d gone to a clinic using a fake name, but she had an allergic reaction during the procedure. She panicked, called Abram, and the truth came out.”
“And just like that, my brother is dead. So then why rough him up and tattoo his head? Why not kill him on the spot?”
“Morosovs like to instill fear before they kill you. They’re sick fucks. My contact says someone has been watching Conrad the whole time. If they wanted, they could take him out this very second.”
“No! Jesus, York. Can’t the Bratva intervene? I’ll pay whatever it takes. Anything.”
“Doesn’t work that way with the Russians. Your brother disrespected Abram in the most personal way. The Bratva wants nothing to do with it. Sorry.”
I couldn’t believe any of this. “But the girl. She knew it would come to this. She used my brother. There must be something we can do. She used him!”
“Anya is remorseful and is being dealt with.”
“What do you mean, dealt with?” My spine went ramrod straight. I knew the Russians didn’t take well to disrespect.
York shrugged. “Russians are ruthless, even with their own. I stay out of it. You should too.”
I often questioned if York had a heart, but clearly, he didn’t.
“What about my brother?”
York shook his head. “You can’t go to war with the Morosovs. You’d just end up dead too.”