Twisting Fate

I glared at my second. Aleksei was a bit of a jokester and more often than not he had a smile on his face no matter the situation. It balanced my perpetual frown that was etched onto my face for years. Hell, I couldn’t remember the last time I smiled. Not even Aleksei’s greatest jokes would make me crack a smirk. An eyebrow raise but nothing would get me to smile; not anymore. For once though, he wasn’t smiling. We were in the middle of an arms deal with the Colombians. The last thing I wanted was to be interrupted.

There were three other brothers they could contact that wouldn’t be finishing up a deal to handle something.

“Why are you telling me this and not contacting my brothers?”

Aleksei rubbed his palms against his pants. “Juri is in Russia right now, Kazmer is in Florida handling a different deal with the new port opening up, and Lev is arms deep in baby shit since the twins came home. It’s up to you, pakhan.”

My lip curled. Aleksei knew better than to call me that. I was not our Pakhan or Vor as my brother preferred. I was the youngest male in our family. Not to mention the only significant talent I brought to the table was reliability. ‘And loyalty’ echoed in my head that my father drilled into me.

Being unremarkable in the Bratva was nearly death wish on its own. My two sisters, one younger and one older inherited our mothers looks. They had been married off years ago. Juri was currently our Vor, head of our family, after our father passed. Kazmer was his second, a master at numbers and with a photographic memory, he was an asset all on his own. Lev was the computer genius and hacker extraordinaire. Though, he had swapped out his computer for diapers since his 4th and 5th child were born a week ago.

My brothers and sisters were supportive of me but in the pitiful kind of way. They included me because they knew if I wasn’t, no one would give me a second glance. I’d proved myself over the years. Proved that I was reliable, a good soldier, a good brother, and I would do what was required of me to get the job done. That’s how I survived over these years. Having my own platoon of men under my command, only my Vor was higher in rank than I was in our Bratva.

“Marek?” Aleksei looked at me expectantly, holding out his phone.

“Watch them. I trust them as far as I could throw the boat they shipped the guns on.”

Aleksei laughed but nodded. Swiping the phone from his hand, I turned my back on the deal and walked a few paces away. Once I made it out of the warehouse, I took out a smoke and leaned against the black Escalade.

“Chto?” [What?] I growled into the line.

“Izvini, boss, but we didn’t know quite what to do.”

I let out a drag. “I don’t need your apologies, Laslo. I need to know why the fuck you are interrupting me while I am working?”

“Yes, boss. Sorry, boss.” I had to force myself not to roll my eyes. “We ran into a situation tonight. There was someone on our territory. Specifically near the strip club on the West side. We put them in the cellars but before they passed out, they were requesting…help.”

My eyes narrowed. “They specifically asked help from our guys? Or they were asking help from anyone on the street?”

He was silent for a moment. “They knew our boys, boss. They didn’t ask anyone else. Specifically, after they asked for help…”

Laslo took a moment to finish his sentence. “…they asked to be killed.”

My eyes widened and my hand dropped a bit, the cigarette forgotten between my fingers. “Asked to be killed? How the fuck did they know to come to you?”

He hummed over the line. “I don’t know. But…the reason why we even took them was because the very last word before they passed out was Morozov.”

I stood up from my lean. Morozov was my mother's maiden name. Someone definitely had to know about our family if they knew her maiden name. My father kept that close at hand and made sure that after he changed her name to Baranov that all record of her before that disappeared. The Baranov Bravta was one of the largest and most feared throughout the mafia territories. We extended our reach all over the world, the biggest territories being here in New York and Moscow.

“Well, der’mo.” [Well, shit.] I pitched the bridge of my nose for a moment. “I’m two hours outside of the city. I need to finish up here before I head over though. Don’t touch them until I get there.”

“Yes, boss.”

I didn’t wait for anything else, I hung up on him. Walking back to the warehouse after I stamped out the cigarette, I eyed Aleksei speaking with Columbia’s second, Paulo. Though, unlike his name suggested, the man was not wise. He’d tried to double cross us multiple times over the years without his bosses approval. How the zasranets continued to still work for Ortiz Cartel, let alone still breathed, was beyond me. I’d kill Aleksei the first time it happened and the man was like a brother to me, cousin by blood.

“Ah! Marek! I was wondering where you scurried off to.” His thick accent made my name sound more like a slur than anything.

Sometimes I preferred it coming from his mouth like that. The more he feared me and my brothers, the better.

“Business. You know, what you should be doing instead of standing around giggling like school girls.”

Paulo clicked his tongue a couple times. “All work no play makes Marek a dull pendejo.”