It’s going to be fun pulling the teeth out one of those cowards, one by one, until I find out where the rest of them are. Then, I’ll be able to shoot them down like the dogs they are.
Chapter Thirty
Kathleen
I ease down into the chair on the opposite side of Katrina’s desk while she shuts the door to give us more privacy.
After she sits down, I watch as she bites her bottom lip. She looks nervous, like she’s trying to muster up the courage to tell me something I’m not going to want to hear.
“We have a program here that works with college students. There’s an annual competition for up-and-coming junior journalists and authors where they submit an exposé, and they stand a chance of winning cash to put toward their tuition. As you can imagine, the competition is fierce. I’m able to freelance and rent out my own office here because I’ve spent years building my following. Writing, journalism, even blogging—they are all extremely competitive fields. From the beginning of a writer’s career, until the day he retires, it’s cutthroat. It doesn’t take long for students to realize just how brutal this business can be. They either develop an edge, or they quit the game early because they can’t handle the ruthlessness of the industry.”
“Yeah, you just happened to make your money off Novak’s life story.”
Katrina’s eyes squint and her demeanor goes cold. Knowing immediately I have said the wrong thing, I wait for her response.
“Let’s get this straight right now. I based my novel on Novak, but it was fiction. Half that fucking money became his when he forced my hand in marriage. Novak is no angel in this game we’ve played together. I was an established writer before I ever met your husband’s cousin. Granted, lines were crossed when writing that story, but for your information, I only used one sex scene from his diary. I may have capitalized on it, but the rest of that story was mine. Novak made a lot of fucking money for being my muse. He used the fact that I took his one paragraph and treated me like I had committed some unpardonable sin, forcing me to marry him in retribution.”
“Well, it was plagiarism, even if it was only one paragraph,” I reply, refusing to back down from my beliefs.
“You’re right, and I have anguished over that. I’ve asked his forgiveness for it as well. I made a spur of the moment decision that was wrong, and I take full responsibility for it. I republished the book and named him as co-author. I would never do anything like that again. We’ve all made mistakes, Kathleen. I stood up and told my readers that paragraph was Novak’s writing. My readers see it the same way as I do—a dysfunctional, fucked-up, heinously beautiful love story. I love my husband, and the games we subject each other to are nothing but aphrodisiacs for bedroom play. You know how these guys roll.”
“Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right. I’m not insinuating you steal people’s work to write your books. It’s obvious you’re talented. It all worked out in the end, and it isn’t like he didn’t make a ton of money riding on your coattails. It’s tit for tat as far as I’m concerned. I’m well aware Novak is no innocent victim in this scenario. If he hadn’t wanted that book to still be in publication, he would have destroyed your reputation, had it removed from every bookshelf in the country, and sued you; he could have possibly even killed you. Clearly, he read it, and even knowing the only thing you used was the one paragraph about kink, Novak saw it as a chance to blackmail you. He fell in love with you and used the plagiarism the same way Glazov used a gambling debt against me. Bratva men don’t come at women with champagne and roses. They come with black roses, Glocks, switchblades, and game because they just take what they want.”
I watch her lean back in her chair like she’s satisfied with my answer. She’s a talented author and doesn’t need Novak or anyone else to be successful. I had only been playing with her, but I respect her even more now for standing up to me. More than that, I respect her for the fact that she owned her mistake and came clean with her readers. I know they love her more for it as well.
I’ve been watching her from the sidelines, and I stalk her social pages. She takes the time to answer her fans and to make posts for them, thanking them for believing in her dreams. I have seen firsthand how much her readers mean to her, and even Novak doesn’t get in the way of her relationship with them. I don’t have a hard time believing it was important to her to come clean and right her wrong in the eyes of her followers. She makes herself accessible and real; they love her all the more for it. Her voice interrupts my musings.
“I’ll give you three guesses what Logan is doing her exposé on.”
A wave of nausea rushes over me.
“Oh, God. Please, no, no, no.”
Horrified, I watch as Katrina nods her head, confirming my fears.
“You got it… Russian gangsters and their various Bratva cells.”
Glazov
Novak and I are still in my office when my head of security comes in, escorting the man who saved Ivan’s nephew. I immediately stand up and extend my hand to shake his. The terrified look in his eyes suggests that he’s clueless as to why he’s been brought here. My security team knows better than to say anything except for, Mr. Glazov requests your presence. What can I say? My reputation precedes me. The public knows who I am, even if they’ve never personally laid eyes on me. Judging by the fear in this man’s eyes, he’s definitely heard of me.
After directing my maid to get him a coffee to his liking, I waste no time addressing the reason he’s been brought here.
“Mr. Mathews, I’m certain I don’t need to tell you that anything we discuss in this room needs to stay just amongst the three of us.”
I wave my hand in Novak’s direction. The man nods his head up and down in such an exaggerated manner, he reminds me of a Bobblehead doll.
“First of all, I would like to thank you. The man you rescued is the nephew of one of my most loyal employees. The woman that was with him is his girlfriend. I don’t think I need to elaborate on what her fate would have been had you not intervened.”
The man’s head is now moving side to side, letting me know he understands just how bad things could have gone for the girl.
“As a way of thanking you…”
He interrupts, “Oh no, Mr. Glazov, that won’t be necessary.”
I patiently allow him to finish before I cut my eyes at him and reply.
“It’s non-negotiable.”
“I-I… But, I…”
“And you’re interrupting me, Mr. Mathews.”
I watch in amusement as his face floods crimson. Now we’re getting somewhere.
Once again, he’s nodding his head like a Bobblehead doll. I’d like to get finished with this fucking interview sometime today. I take a deep breath, striving not to lose my patience with the man I consider to be a hero.
“I’ll be paying a year of your daughter’s rent for her salon.”
I lean forward to look the man directly in the eye.
“Now, I would like to hire you to manage the janitorial services for my organization. Do I need to explain the importance of discretion with this job?”
He shakes his head slowly from side to side.
“Good, one of my employees will be contacting you to arrange everything. That will be all, Mr. Mathews. Thank you.”
I stand, extending my hand to shake his before he leaves. The guy is still shaking his head. Oh well, at least he’s agreeable; it will get him far. If he’s compliant and knows how to keep his mouth shut, he’ll do fine. If not, he’ll be dead.
“He looked like a Bobblehead doll. Damn, Glazov, I was scared he was going to shit his pants. What have you done to the people in this town? You should be ashamed!”
He’s smacking his leg, laughing hysterically.
“Fuck you, Novak. You’re such an adolescent. Let me know when you’re ready to talk business.”
“Hey, you have my undivided attention.”
“I doubt that.”
I roll my eyes befo
re bringing up the next issue at hand.
“Start from the streets, and work your way in to family members. I want any info you can find on these redneck, backwoods fucks. I want to know where they meet, where their families are, and the location of every fucking member in their gang.”
I take a moment to intently eye my cousin.
“I don’t need to tell you how much Ivan has done for this organization. Loyalty such as that man has shown deserves unwavering devotion from our cell in return.”
“I know, man. The guy is true Bratva, through and through. By the time my team and I finish sweeping the streets, there won’t be a place left where they can hide. With the tactics we use, even their mothers won’t be willing to hide them from us.”
What Novak is saying is true. Besides me, nobody can work the streets like him. Knowing Novak is in charge of finding the son of a bitch helps put my mind at ease. He doesn’t exaggerate, and I know his statement about even mothers turning on their sons is one of truth. More than once, that had been the outcome.
“Yes, in a very short period of time, they will be nothing but a distant memory…”
Chapter Thirty One
Kathleen
How Katrina replies to the statement I’m about to make is going to tell me a few things about her character. It will definitely reveal how big of a mouth she has. If she has a backbone when it comes to her husband, I can see us becoming really good friends.
“We can’t tell the guys about this.”
“I completely agree,” Katrina replies.
“We’re going to have to deal with it ourselves, and that means talking to her face to face.”
“Yes, but we also need to cover our own asses, Kathleen. If she runs her mouth to Kodiak, and he goes to Glazov, we’re going to be in a shitload of trouble.”
“If we don’t deal with it correctly, that girl could end up dead.”
“If the little bitch tells on us, I’ll kill her myself.”
I laugh, “Not before I get my hands on her. What in the world made her think she could come in, write an exposé on my husband, and not get killed?”
“Well, I’ll admit the girl has balls. That means she’ll fit right in with us. Of course, that’s if she listens to what we tell her.”
“I hate the word if,” I reply sulkily.
“I like words, any words.”
“You’re an author; that’s a given.”
Katrina leans in and strokes my hand to stop the nervous tapping I’m doing on her desk.
“We can do this, Kathleen. With all the drama we’ve been through with these guys, this will be a piece of cake.”
I look at her and shake my head because all I can think is… I sure as hell hope so.
Glazov
I take a moment to clear my head and let my mind wander. Now that my office is cleared out, my mind drifts back to a night a few years back.
The only lighting in the middle of the desolate spot by the river came from the headlights of the luxury vehicle we’d driven to this destination. It was more than enough to betray the terror in the eyes of the man we’d bound, gagged, and brought out here to kill.
He stood at the edge of the grave and dropped to his knees, his eyes pleading for mercy from a man who had none—me.
I shook my head, disgusted as I spoke the last words he would ever hear.
“You’re weak, much too weak to be in the game. You know how I feel about those who turn on the Bratva. You’re dead to me, in more ways than one.”
I raised my Glock and shot him right between the eyes. His body fell back into the grave perfectly, as if that hole in the earth was destined to be the final resting place for his carcass. Hell, it would be the place his soul would reside for eternity.
I turned and made my way back to the car, leaving Ivan to finish burying him.
Unfortunately the fresh grave had been enough to spark the curiosity of a jogger’s dog, and the pup started digging furiously like he had a lead on the ultimate bone. I guess, in a way, he did. The well-meaning citizen called the police, not wanting to take any chances. When homicide called in the forensics team, they used ground-penetrating radar—fucking forensic geophysics geeks. Needless to say, they found the body, and it was all over after that. When the police started closing in on me, Ivan insisted on taking the fall. The only stipulation he had was that his family was provided for and protected.
I treat his wife and daughter like queens, and Ivan lives a pretty privileged life in prison. The son of a bitch has his own cell, a computer with Internet access, cable TV, and anything else that can be supplied through money, bribes, or pay-offs. It is all provided by my hand. I know that if it wasn’t for Ivan, it would be me in that cell. I’ve even gone so far as to make sure he has conjugal visits with his wife. I think the thing that affects me the most is that I have never, not even once, gotten wind of him or his family complaining.
Being locked up for the sake of the cause brings out one of two things in people: resentment, or loyalty. In Ivan, it’s the latter. He is one of the most loyal men I know…
Chapter Thirty Two
Kathleen
“She’ll be fine, dear.”
I smile at my son, reassuring him that Logan will be fine having lunch with Katrina and me.
“My goodness, son, you have to give the girl some room to breathe.”
I’m purposely portraying a carefree attitude so he doesn’t catch on to what I’m up to. I’m well aware that if he does, the first thing he’ll do is run and tell his dad. Anyone who works for my husband knows that withholding information from him will result in dire consequences. They’ve seen firsthand what happens to people who work angles behind his back. Regardless of the fact that Glazov is their father, my sons still see him as their boss concerning Bratva business.
I breathe a sigh of relief when he bends down to kiss my cheek. I watch him as he turns and cuts his eyes at his girlfriend, even though he’s speaking to me.
“I don’t want her out of your sight. Thirty minutes before you’re finished here, give me a call, and I’ll come pick her up.”
“Yes, dear.”
I smile endearingly while trying to get him to hurry up and get his ass out of here. I wait until he walks away and the waiter has brought us our beverages and a menu before I begin.
“Logan, we’ve brought you here to talk about a very serious matter. It’s imperative that you keep your mouth shut about what we discuss, and that includes not sharing it with the men in my family.”
“You know, don’t you?”
It isn’t a question; it’s a statement. I know, and she knows that I know.
“How did you think that you could get away with something like this?”
She answers my question with a question of her own, which I hate. It’s a personal pet peeve of mine and a method my husband uses all the fucking time to get information. Glazov’s always finding out what he wants to know, yet never revealing anything about what’s going on in his head.
“Does he know? Oh my God, does he?”
I know who she’s talking about, and it isn’t Kodiak. She’s worried about Glazov. She’s smart to fear him for her actions. If he finds out about this exposé, he’s going to take it personally, as well he should. We aren’t the kind of people who want our business splattered across the front page of the newspaper. If she does follow through with this exposé, it’s quite possible a student, or even one of her professors, would sell it to the media or, worse yet, a tabloid.
The only time Glazov permits a newspaper article to be printed is when he personally approves it for PR purposes. Even then, he is in complete control of what the press releases. It’s one of the reasons we brought in Katrina. This exposé has the potential to turn into a scandal for the whole family, fodder for the public’s curious eyes. This could trigger an avalanche of trouble for my husband. The other bosses would perceive him as weak for not being able to control the media. There is no doubt in my mind that if this ha
ppens, Glazov will kill Logan and anyone else he sees as a threat. He has his freedom to protect as well as his reputation. He cannot be seen as a man who can’t take care of Bratva business; it just isn’t an option. He would view it as shaming his family bloodline, and in Glazov’s world, that is never going to happen.
Part of the job of a Bratva wife is to see trouble coming when it concerns her family, and then prevent it. It’s one of the reasons we don’t interact with women outside of our Bratva cells. We walk a fine line of not being directly involved in the business, yet protecting our family from any threats. It’s a challenge, to say the least, but it’s a challenge I deal with by making it my business to know my husband’s business.
I shake my hand back and forth and sternly address Logan.
“Do. Not. Panic.”
I know I’m being a bitch, but my heart is in the right place. I’m trying to keep this naïve little college girl from getting killed, and I’m also trying to prevent any rifts between Glazov and Kodiak.
I think my partner in crime sees this as an opportunity to come to my aid. I find myself being grateful that Katrina decided to accompany me. I know this won’t be the first time she and I are involved in something we don’t want the guys to know about. I listen as she speaks.
“I understand, firsthand, that the career you’re pursuing is competitive, but you can’t do this. You can’t speak out about anything that goes on in the gambling house where you work, and you damn sure can’t talk about our family to anyone you go to school with. I know how it is when you’re first starting out. I know how expensive tuition is, and I know you saw winning that exposé money as a way to help you pay for it. I’m telling you, though, this isn’t the answer.”
Glazov's Legacy (Born Bratva Book 2) Page 12
