I interrupted. “Naomi, honey, update me on the floor. What’s been happening? Is everything smooth and normal?”
“You never let me have any fun,” she pouted playfully, but then got serious. She played a good part behind the bar, but she could’ve been the pit boss at any casino on the strip. “Front row, third couch from stage left. The ugly ducklings got in somehow. I didn’t want anyone to cause a scene until you were here to handle it, and I didn’t wanna tip them off to anything.”
Mikhail and I both looked in the direction she’d indicated. And then we looked at each other, our party mood redirected to hardcore business. It was the Baranov thugs. A filthy goddamned Baranov crew, in our club.
“How the fuck did they get in here?” I asked, returning my gaze to them.
Mikhail’s expression darkened. “One of our waitresses is sitting with them. Victoria, yes?”
Goddamnit. Victoria. My heart sank for a moment. She was a sweet girl, great earner, and above all, honest. It was rare to get that combination in a place like this, and I think everyone felt an obligation to keep her safe on some level or another.
Naomi nodded. “Mm-hm. The head one, big dumb and ugly, the one with his arm wrapped around her shoulder? He made a stink about the bill, announced he was going to get paid one way or another, and said he’d be holding her as collateral. Indefinitely.”
“Bless you for not calling security,” I said quietly. “They’re good, but the last thing we need is a bunch of hotheads in one spot.”
“I knew you were coming any minute,” Naomi said. “So I thought it was best to wait. What are you gonna do?”
“I’m going to handle it,” Mikhail said bluntly.
I closed my eyes for a moment and shook my head. “Cousin…”
Mikhail looked at me, and we shared a moment. One of a million, an easy and natural connection.
He was right. I knew he was right. This was blatant disrespect. All the money in the world, all the patience in the universe — nothing could fix that if you weren’t willing to draw a hard line in the sand. Sometimes it made enemies, but if your people didn’t feel safe with you, they’d feel safe somewhere else. And somewhere else was bad for us.
I hardened my jaw and took the copper cups, one in each hand. I had the start of a plan brewing in my brain, and nice, icy drinks were just what I needed. “You mind?” I asked. “I don’t feel much like drinking right now anyway.”
“Me either,” Mikhail growled. He looked at Naomi, reached out and touched her hand for a brief moment and then turned his attention to the Baranov section of the crowd. He rolled his neck, and I cracked my knuckles; both of us warming up, preparing ourselves for what was to come.
Screw the match in the ring; we had just become the main event.
CHAPTER4
MIKHAIL
I stalked forward,feeling rather than seeing Andrei right behind me. I was thankful for the fight; I couldn’t ask for a better distraction than the mayhem currently going on in the steel cage. The fighters were sizing each other up, shit talking each other in preparation for a serious trading of blows, and the crowd was going wild. My men slipped through our clientele like sharks through a school of glittering, drunken fish, taking bets on all sorts of outcomes.
I valued efficiency in my men. Gambling was big business, but it moved fast. I was comfortable at high speed, and I made sure to keep my reflexes sharp and lead from the front. It gave me a good place to channel my anger, a constructive way to get it out of my body. Find a threat, destroy it.
Tonight, the Baranovs would do.
Andrei spoke from over my shoulder. “I’ll clear Victoria,” he said.
I cocked my brow. “How?”
He grinned and lifted the Moscow Mules in his hands for a moment. “I’m going to ruin her dress to save her life.”
I nodded. “Good.” It was clever; throw the drinks, which would throw the goon off balance, and I could control the situation from there. I was prepared to do whatever was necessary to get this done fast and sure. Efficiency first. If it went poorly, so be it; my knives would take care of any unexpected complications.
Andrei took the lead as we circled around to stage left. We kept it slow, moving in pace with each other with practiced ease. The two of us had been in this situation enough times to know and trust each other in a fight. It was the most valuable piece of our friendship. He focused on the big ugly Baranov on the couch, and I scanned over the rest of them, evaluating them for how much danger each man presented.
Pathetic. Weak-willed. No discipline. They were already drunk, rowdy, and disrespectful to everyone around them. It took a special kind of filth to be offensive enough to stand out at an underground MMA event, and the Baranov pigs were exactly that kind. I scoffed under my breath. No matter how many of them I had to beat up to keep in line, they’d never be a real threat to our power in this city. The most they’d ever be to me was decent exercise.
Andrei shot me a glance over his shoulder. I knew what it meant.No killing.
I gave him a look back, one that said,No promises.
We rounded the front row, and I finally got a good look at the lead Baranov’s face. I recognized him; this wasn’t the first time we’d knocked heads. Stepan was a huge, slovenly louse who thought he was a big deal because he made collections.