Sonata

by Kenya Wright

  “See.” Louis winked. “I like this place already. Good customer service.”

  I headed back to the bathhouse. “Come on.”

  Giorgio rushed ahead and hit my left. “I figured we needed back up. A few extra guns.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Rafael and Louis are not extra guns. They’re nuclear weapons.”

  Rafael grumbled behind me. “I heard that.”

  “Good,” I said. “Make sure you behave. You know how the Russians are with their bathhouses. They’re like the Japanese with—”

  “Everything,” Louis growled. He never enjoyed trips to Japan and always found a reason to get out of them.

  “The French are the only civilized ones of the bunch.” Giorgio adjusted his jacket.

  “Wait a minute,” Rafael said. “Jean-Pierre is telling me to behave, as if barging in on the Lion’s bath won’t piss him off.”

  Giorgio nodded. “Yeah. I don’t think it’s wise to meet with the Lion right now.”

  “I don’t think it’s wise to keep calling him the goddamn lion.” I rolled my eyes as we rounded the hall. “Maybe, if you stop calling him that, he’ll be less scary to you.”

  Giorgio murmured, “I doubt it.”

  How were we ever going to end Kazimir, if some of us were terrified of him.

  You don’t scare me, Kazimir. Not at all.

  I held in my growl, done talking to them and doing my best to focus on the moment ahead.

  “Where do you think he is?” Rafael asked as we stepped down the hallway.

  My attitude hadn’t decreased. “Kazimir will be in the room that’s surrounded by a bunch of Russians with guns.”

  We passed grown men with their bellies spilling over their towels. Many of them were old. Rugged graying tattoos covered their ruddy flesh. A few wore bell-shaped hats on their heads.

  What the fuck is wrong with this group?

  A door was marked Gentlemen's Treatment. We pushed through and passed more undressed men. Elderly and young. Fat and skinny. Russian and very fucking Russian—pale scared flesh with jail tattoos.

  What do women see in these monsters?

  We walked by one room. There, a man held a bundle of birch branches and violently thrashed another man on the ground’s back. It appeared to be some sort of treatment, verses a torture session. I didn’t know what being beat by branches was supposed to do for the body, but I would not be participating in that.

  Rafael eyed some of the older men. “What’s up with the bell hats?”

  “It’s the traditional steaming accessory. It keeps the head from heating up faster than the body's core temperature.”

  “Why the hell do you know that?” Rafael asked.

  “Focus.”

  I hadn’t dealt with Kazimir much. We’d done several arms deals together. A few times we aligned to go after the Yakuza for some territory in Tokyo. Still, we both kept our distance from the other.

  Last time I’d seen him was in Rafael’s restaurant. Kazimir had stood in the doorway several feet in front of us, wearing a crisp suit. The outfit was something I might’ve picked up at the Paris Runway. He’d studied the space as if he’d been considering buying the property, and then completely insulted it in the next breath.

  This visit won’t be the same.

  We rounded another corner and spotted what I’d been talking about. At the far end of the hallway, several men dressed in black stood near one room. It must’ve been ten or more of them. They turned our way. The tallest whispered to the one next to him.

  Hey, guys. We just happened to be in the neighborhood, and thought we’d drop by.

  We approached and stopped in front of them.

  I spoke, “I want to talk to Kazimir.”

  The tall one gave me an evil grin. “Perhaps, you should contact his secretary and make an appointment.”

  Perhaps, I should snap your neck, tear it off, and shit down your spine.

  I curved my mouth into a smile. “Good idea. Next time I will contact his secretary. But for now, I’ll go inside.”

  “You won’t.” The guard took out his gun but kept his arm at the side. “The Lion isn’t talking to his fans right now.”

  Interesting. This one has personality. The Bratva must’ve had a self-improvement workshop this month.

  Mr. Tall Guy tapped his gun at the side, letting me know how serious things were getting.

  You’re an idiot.

  “That’s a nice gun.” I checked it out and then gave him my attention. “I apologize. I didn’t want to shift this thoughtful exchange to an inappropriate level, but I must remind you that I have guns too.”

  Louis and Giorgio took theirs out. Rafael too. My other men pointed back. And then the Russians pulled out their weapons.

  Gun fight in the bathhouse? Is that what we want to do today?

  Louis and Rafael had their guns pointed right at Mr. Tall Guy’s forehead.

  He didn’t flinch. Protecting the Lion had probably given him much scarier moments. He appeared close to yawning. “I think you’re bad at counting, Jean-Pierre. We have more guns than you.”

  “A smart player never shows all his cards at the table.” I gestured down the hall where’d we just come from. Ten more of our men marched our way.

  “What do you think?” I leaned my head to the side. “Is that enough? Or should I have more men with guns come. This is my fucking city after all. Do you need a tank? Or how about we go ancient? I can get a canon in here, direct it straight to your fucking face.”

  Rafael nodded with his gun still pointed. “I vote for the cannon. They’re always fun.”

  We all stared at each other. Everyone had their guns pointed, but me. My additional men came down and assumed the same position as everyone else, unsure of what was going on.

  Still, Mr. Tall Guy didn’t move.

  I sighed. “I understand the predicament you’re in. Kazimir will probably kill you, if you just let me in. So I’m going to do you a favor. We’ll give you a story.”

  The guard scowled. “And what’s that?”

  I turned to Louis. “Help him.”

  Louis shot him in the leg. The rest of the guys rushed, but it wasn’t necessary, leaping into action around me. Shuffling. The foreboding click and spin of thumbs on weapons. Bullets sliding into chambers. None of it mattered. I had too many guns. Their biggest guy slumped against the wall, not screaming, but pain covered his face.

  And Kazimir’s door had opened anyway. A large man towered at the center of the doorway. “Come in. Kazimir will see you.”

  “Thanks.” I got ready to walk, but Giorgio stopped me. “What?”

  Giorgio grimaced. “We should talk to him in the hall.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s hot in there.” Giorgio gestured to his suit. “I don’t want to sweat all over the Brioni.”

  I grumbled and walked into the room. Steam rose around us. Already I was uncomfortable. I undid my jacket and took it off. Giorgio grabbed it. Rafael rolled his eyes. Louis crossed his arms over his chest, hiding partly in the steam

  The door closed behind us.

  With the instant blast of heat and steam, it took a minute for my eyes to adjust.

  Where are you?

  When my vision returned, I scanned the place. Four men stood by the walls. They wore towels and held no guns, but they looked top notch. The type that didn’t need guns to kill anyway. It would make sense for Kazimir to have the best men as close to him as possible. Regardless of how many guns we had outside of this room, if we tried to kill Kazimir now, we would never make it out alive.

  I looked beyond the men and to the back of the room.

  There you go.

  The Lion sat there with a towel over the back of his head. The sides outlined his face. Parts of it was covered, but I could see the scowl and death in his eyes.

  I always forget how big this motherfucker is, until I’m right in front of him.

  I walked closer and the monster became bigger. At le
ast 6’4. Shoulders a mile wide. And a sleek jaw that looked like it had taken a lot of punches.

  Maybe I’ll get to crack it open one day.

  Paris women bragged about Kazimir’s looks. They romanticized the beast. He had the whole structured face thing. The kind that actors and models pulled off. Dark hair. Blue eyes. All things I would tear, break, and destroy, if he was a threat to Eden.

  No one said anything in the space. Kazimir still hadn’t looked up.

  Right as I was about to speak, Rafael began to undress. It was such an odd transition. I was completely put off guard.

  What are you doing?

  First, Rafael started with his jacket and slung it on the ground. Giorgio picked it up in annoyance. Then, Rafael unbuttoned his shirt.

  I kept my voice low. “Excuse me?”

  “It’s hot in here.” Rafael handed his shirt to Giorgio and then went to his pants.

  “Keep them on.”

  “Fuck that.” The pants dropped to the floor, and then his boxer briefs. Naked, Rafael stepped out of them, walked over to a wooden bench across from Kazimir, and sat down.

  Why the hell did Giorgio call Rafael? This is what I mean.

  I returned my attention to Kazimir. The towel was still on his head, but he’d raised his view. I didn’t know when, but he’d begun watching the whole scene with a deadly silence. Meanwhile, we looked like a bunch of clowns.

  I went over to the bench where Rafael sat, but didn’t get too close to the naked fool or sit down. I rather enjoyed standing over the Lion for a few minutes.

  Kazimir spoke first. It showed how annoyed he must’ve been. His English came off thicker, as if he was actually speaking a garbled Russian dialect that somehow made sense. “Is he going to be naked the whole time?”

  Rafael spoke for himself. “Of course. I figured that you don’t get to see a big dick much. So here it is. Take your time and breathe it all in.”

  I sat down.

  Thank you, Rafael. You’re doing a good job with making us look fierce.

  Giorgio sat down on my side but passed a towel by me and gave it to Rafael.

  Rafael shook his head. “No, I’m good.”

  Giorgio frowned and held on to it.

  Focus, guys!

  “The Corsican.” Kazimir pointed at us as he talked to his men. “My father used to call them Perfumed Pansies. I didn’t believe it until now.” Kazimir raised his head more and did a show of inhaling. “Yes. Jean-Pierre certainly smells sweet and inviting today. Like a bouquet of flowers. Is that rose or lavender?”

  It’s both and fuck you.

  “My. My.” Kazimir sniffed the air again. “Why Jean-Pierre smells like a soft and delicate woman.”

  His men chuckled.

  Rafael muttered under his breath, “You do smell pretty rosy right now.”

  I didn’t have time for games today. People had died, and Paris was too pretty for lions. I glared at him. “Why are you here?”

  “I’m here because the sauna has many health benefits, especially for the heart.” Kazimir’s turned his deadly gaze my way. “How’s your heart these days?”

  “Why are you in Paris?”

  “Because it’s Paris.” Kazimir gave me a wicked grin. “This city is a beautiful place to visit. Kings and queens used to walk here.”

  “They still do.”

  “But not as powerful as the ones in the past.”

  “If you plan to be here longer, I can show you the error in your thinking.”

  “Hmmm. And there we have it.” Kazimir rose. “Jean-Pierre wants a date.”

  One of his men smirked.

  Kazimir took the towel off his head and slung it on the bench. He didn’t appear to be sitting back down and the expression on his face didn’t look like he’d be walking over to give us a handshake.

  I rose and stood my ground.

  Rafael rose. His cock swinging back and forth like a pendulum.

  I muttered under my breath, “Now’s a good time to put on that towel.”

  Kazimir prowled over to me. “Kings still walk in Paris?”

  “Yes.”

  “Interesting.” Kazimir stopped in front of me. “Impressive. Oh well, I’m more a fan of gods.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because I know how gods feel.” Kazimir moved in closer. Only four inches ran between us. Now Louis and Giorgio came to my side, but Kazimir didn’t flinch. His gaze stayed dead on me. “Are you men always such a close group? I thought you were related.”

  Done with the jokes, I pushed the topic. “Bratva and Corsican’s relationship is strained. You know you don’t come to Paris without letting me know.”

  “Is that how France works?” Kazimir scowled. “I came here before to talk to you. No one stopped me then.”

  “I’m not the same man, that I was then.” I inched in closer. “Now you ask for permission, before you step into my city.”

  The muscle under his eye twitched. “This is your city, as much as I’ll let you have it. But I’ll give you the common courtesy that your dick has convinced you that you need.”

  And then he backed up a foot and did a slow bow. It was an odd gesture on such a huge man. His voice held a sweet threat between the lines. “My dear friend Jean-Pierre, I’m in Paris on vacation. I will be here for a few more days. I hope that I can walk in your territory freely.”

  I closed the space, only leaving enough room for a few sheets of paper to slip through us. His security got behind him. Tension mingled with the steam and rose in the air.

  I smiled. “Thank you, Kazimir. Next time call before you come.”

  He growled. “Are we done?”

  “No.” I ignored his annoyance. “People were killed in Belladonna.”

  He frowned. “People are killed all over.”

  “These people meant something to me.”

  “I don’t know about Belladonna or whoever died. This discussion is over. Go home and play dress up, Jean-Pierre.” He walked away. “Spray your fucking perfume in the air and twirl. I gave you more respect then you deserve today, and that’s only because I’m in a good mood. Don’t fuck with my peace.”

  Fuck your peace. Eden is not at peace right now.

  I wouldn’t drop it. “Who killed the people in Belladonna and why?”

  “Belladonna was a pet hobby for my Uncle Igor. He’s gone, as I’m sure you know. I haven’t decided what I will do with that city.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  He chuckled and walked back to the bench.

  I tried another method. “Did your mouse kill them?”

  Kazimir paused in the room. His men stiffened. It was a subtle effect, but easy to see if you knew where to look. One man even fisted his hands. It was clear that any mention of the Mouse would be a serious topic around the Russians.

  I need more information on this mouse guy.

  Kazimir turned around. Rage decorated his face. Where I thought he’d looked angry before, now I knew he was an inch from killing me.

  There was a moment of silence. I could feel the tension thicken to almost suffocation. I had the urge to loosen my tie but didn’t touch it. For the first time since we’d walked in, even his men looked nervous.

  Kazimir studied my face, as he did a sad effort in controlling his temper. The words, when they came, were spat out with violence. “My mouse is none of your concern!”

  “He is, when he may be killing people around me.”

  Kazimir raised his eyebrows and stared at me for a few seconds. Then, Kazimir exchanged gazes with the other men. His shoulders relaxed, yet still he prowled back over to me.

  “I don’t understand you, Jean-Pierre Are you suicidal or—”

  “I’m not suicidal.”

  “Then it’s the alternative?” He leaned in and put his lips close to my ear. “You want to fuck me? Did you spray perfume on your cock too?”

  “Celina is missing.”

  “You say a woman’s name like I sho
uld know who that is.”

  “Igor’s lover.”

  “My uncle is dead! Whatever lovers he had they are no concern to me.”

  This is getting us nowhere. He either doesn’t know what’s going on or won’t tell me.

  Kazimir continued, “You should go. I don’t have the answers you seek, and you’re definitely not going to get that dance from me that you desperately want. Not a hug. Not a fucking caress. And if you mention my mouse again, Jean-Pierre, I will separate your spine from your body and dangle it around that one’s cock.” He gestured to Rafael and then walked back to his bench. “I’m in Paris for a short time.”

  “Why?”

  A deadly edge dotted each word. “I’m on vacation!”

  “That’s a coincidence with everything going on, and I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “Neither do I, but sometimes it is just that. A coincidence.” He placed the towel back over his head. “Calm down, Jean-Pierre. Relax. Perhaps, you need to go on vacation too.”

  Giorgio still tried to hand Rafael a towel. Rafael flipped him off.

  I sighed and looked at Kazimir. “When do you leave?”

  “Very fucking soon. It appears the locals are a bit extra this week.”

  Giorgio exhaled. “So, I think this is a good ending point. He’s on vacation. We can leave.”

  Try not to run out of here, when you leave, Giorgio.

  “Have a good time in Paris, Kazimir.” I nodded at him and walked away. “Just be very careful. Paris can be a violent city.”

  He called back to me. “Not as violent as Moscow. I’m sure I’ll leave here without a scratch.”

  “That depends on how long you stay.” I left the room, not really sure if I’d gotten real answers.

  Could it all be that simple? Was Kazimir simply on vacation? Why had he reacted that way at the mention of the Mouse? And who the hell was killing the people that Eden cared for?

  Kazimir may not know what’s going on, but his people definitely had something to do with this. The whole situation reeked of the Bratva.

  We left the place with no problem and headed back to the perfume shop. My suit was soaked with sweat. It was the absolute last way I wanted to return to Eden.

  “You believe him?” Rafael asked. He’d only put on his pants and shoes. He’d left everything else in the bathhouse.