“Yes. Hello, gentlemen.”
Everyone nodded. They were careful to show me the expected amount of respect, for their own sakes rather than mine.
“My Max is making it big in America.”
MY Max. Fucking asshole. I made my own money despite his interference.
A waiter came over to me and offered me a shot glass filled with vodka. It was a little early to imbibe, but I couldn’t think of a better way to numb the anger I felt right then, so I took it.
“Come. Let’s eat.”
The group of naysayers followed Grigoriy to the dining room. Grigoriy sat at the head of a large, solid wood slab table. Again, he gestured for me to sit next to him. It was an honor, for sure. Only, I’d left Russia because I wanted to get away from the bullshit. Men like our host gave with one hand and took with the other. I was well aware that my newly acquired status as golden boy hung by a cheap cotton thread.
The table was decked with enough food to feed a village–expensive caviar, roasts, perfectly prepared vegetables, etc. I looked around the table at the diners. I knew most of them. They’d been the leaders of their own enterprises for many years.
“Your father would have been so proud of you, Max.”
“Thank you, Nikolai. You look well. How is your family?”
Nikolai was once a trusted friend of my father’s. I used to play with his children back in the day. Of all the men my father knew, he was the kindest to my family.
“My wife passed away two years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you. Alexei is well. He’s living in London.”
“He and I lost touch. Would you give him my best when you speak to him again?”
“Yes. How is America?”
“It’s good.”
Grigoriy tapped on his glass with a knife. The room fell instantly silent.
“We are here to discuss American business. Max is going to make us all very rich men. Aren’t you, Max?”
Talk about being caught in the headlights of a big rig. What else could I do but nod?
“After lunch, we’re going to discuss the distribution, gentlemen. But now, eat, drink, enjoy.”
I had zero appetite but rejecting Grigoriy’s hospitality was tantamount to sparring with a great white shark. So, I ate, smiled, and hid my disdain for the group of people around me as best as I could.
Lunch done and brandy in hand, our host herded his guests into his office where we sat down at an equally impressive boardroom table.
“Let’s talk numbers,” he started.
Following the pecking order protocol, each man spoke in turn according to his seniority. Nikolai started the ball rolling by giving the group an indication of the size of his drug production. What followed was a succession of similar revelations until the last man had spoken.
The hair on the back of my neck stood erect as I listened to the numbers. Were the men around me out of their fucking minds? When Grigoriy first hinted about what he was wanting me to do, I thought it was doable. But, listening to the sheer volumes of drugs they were talking about, made my blood run cold.
“Grigoriy,” I said when everyone had said their peace, “I don’t think this is wise. The numbers are too big, I…”
“Enough!” Grigoriy cut me off mid-sentence. “This is a done deal, Max. It isn’t up for discussion. I told you when you were here the last time that this is why I allowed you to move to America. You have had more than enough time to get your business up and running, and you’ve done well. But now you will repay your debt to me.”
Debt? What fucking debt? I never received a cent from him. I made my own money. What the fuck was he expecting?
“How is our beautiful Inessa?” Grigoriy asked, out of left field.