by Kenya Wright
Yefim stood on the outside, blocking my way. “Sorry. He asked me to make sure you stay here until he leaves.”
“But you’re my guard.”
“He overrides any of your commands.”
“Got it.” Seething, I backed up and shut the door.
Chapter 10
Misha
Naveen, Maxwell, and I stood on the balcony. While Maxwell and Naveen curiously eyed each other, I put on a jacket. I’d forgot to grab my shirt.
I wondered what Maxwell thought of my childhood friend. Although from different ethnicities, they shared the same complexion.
Very handsome, Naveen always had his way with women. No one feature made him good-looking. It was the whole package. Six feet. Slim, yet lean muscle. Super stylish. Flamboyant with a gentlemanly flair. Tonight he wore a violet designer suit—black shirt and polka dot tie. Somehow it all worked out.
I often overheard women talking about his eyes. I understood the fascination. When Naveen looked at you, it felt like you were the only person on Earth. There was a sense of honor that came. A feeling of being more special than any other. His gaze radiated an intense gentleness.
Naveen turned to me. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“I’m thinking about how dreamy your eyes are.”
Naveen snorted and returned to perusing Maxwell.
Walking over to the balcony ledge, Maxwell pulled out a joint and lit it.
Naveen reached his hand into his jacket, took out one of his designer cigarettes, placed the black stick between his lips, and lit. When he blew out a dark cloud of smoke, he gestured to Maxwell. “What are you smoking?”
“A White Russian.” Maxwell looked up. “Apparently, it’s a cross of two legendary strains—”
“White Widow and AK-47.” Naveen bobbed his head. “You’re a Cannabisseur. Like a connoisseur, but only better.”
“I know my strains.”
“Hmmm.” Naveen returned his attention to me and kept his lit cigarette between his two fingers. “I heard your ballerina and you arguing. Is there trouble in paradise?”
“No.”
“Too bad.”
I sneered. “What do you mean too bad?”
“If Ava broke up with you, then everything would get fixed.”
I stalked his way and stopped a foot in front of him. “Mind your business.”
Naveen blew out smoke but made sure to not do it in my direction. “I’ve never seen you so obsessed before. I thought when you slept with her the obsession would go away, but here you are.”
“Here I am?”
“About to throw me off the balcony for thinking you two should break up.”
“That is a good reason to throw you off.”
“Throw me off later. For now, let’s get down to business.” He inhaled the black cigarette and blew out smoke on his side. “The guys with the X’s are considered the Xecutioners. This is a name that people have come up with over the years. They don’t mind answering to it. Sometimes they’ll call themselves that in front of a client.”
Stepping back, I crossed my arms over my chest. “What do they call themselves?”
“They don’t. That’s why they wear the X’s.” He gestured to the back of his neck. “They have a brand here and then they have a black X tattooed on their chest, right over their heart.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re no longer anybody. They’re just another X in the group with no identity. They have names, but that’s just to know who to call. But their reality is that they are no one, but one moving body.”
“And the colors? Akiva said they wore violet and black.”
“They’re into fashion. Think of a band of eunuchs whose only mission is to kill. They follow a strict diet and other rules. No drugs. No women. Nothing else unless it deals with getting strong to kill.”
“No drugs or women.” Maxwell whistled. “That’s no way to live.”
“I agree.” Naveen nodded. “Their only joys are killing and clothes, so they spend a lot of time being the best at each.”
Sighing, I turned to the balcony’s view and gazed at the buildings in front of us. Weeks ago, Valentina, Maxwell, and I had been at the brothel across from this penthouse, killing the Brotherhood’s enemies.
I spied Maxwell studying that same brothel. He’d been forced to kill a man who he had considered a brother there.
Is it hard to look at that building?
Maxwell turned away and took a hit of his joint.
Naveen grabbed my attention. “When I arrived in St Petersburg, I left a message with Hiro.”
“He’s the leader?”
Naveen blew out smoke. “As much as they can have one.”
Maxwell spoke up. “When’s the last time you saw these dudes?”
“Three years ago.”
Smoke left Maxwell’s nostrils. “How do you know the number is still good?”
“It’s a simple code. Do you remember the alphabetic order attached to telephone numbers?”
I nodded.
“The 9 represents the letters wxyz.”
Maxwell took another hit of his joint. “So, you dial 9 how many times?”
“Nine times.” Naveen flicked ash onto the ground. “A recording came up, asking to state the job and contact information.”
I returned to gazing at the spectacular view of downtown St Petersburg. “What did you say?”
“I told him that I was in St Petersburg and needed to talk immediately. That the job that he may have been contracted to do here can be outbid.”
A chilly breeze blew by, reminding me that I should have put on my shirt. I placed my hands in my jacket’s pockets. “Tell me more about the Xecutioners.”
Naveen’s phone rang.
I turned around.
Naveen put out his cigarette and checked his phone. “Perhaps they’ll tell you themselves.”
“Put it on speaker.”
Naveen turned the phone on. “Hello.”
A dark voice rose on the balcony. “Meet us downstairs and only bring your two friends standing out on the balcony right now. No guards.”
Naveen frowned. “Can you guarantee a safe meeting?”
“Tonight everyone is safe. Tomorrow, we never know.”
The line went blank.
A cold chill hit me. This time it wasn’t due to the weather.
Naveen gave me a worried look. “I told you they were good.”
“Or they followed you here,” Maxwell offered.
“Or they’ve been watching this penthouse for a few days.” I headed to the door. “Let’s go.”
Maxwell called back. “Without your guys?”
“Misha has to make good on his promise,” Naveen chimed in. “They’re about honor and codes. You show up with an army and there will be a war.”
Maxwell sucked his teeth. “Better a war than Misha walking into a blood bath.”
I stopped at the balcony door. “We go without my men, but we’ll have guns on us.”
“Don’t pull them out unless you have to,” Naveen stressed. “This is a safe meeting.”
“Fuck that. I don’t know these guys.” Maxwell headed over to me.
I opened the door and stepped through.
Naveen yelled after me. “Put on a shirt. A nice one. Not wrinkled and make sure it goes well with your suit.”
Maxwell laughed. “Are we trying to fuck or kill them?”
“Laugh now,” Naveen said, “but when you deal with them. You won’t be laughing.”
It took me less than five minutes to change. Thankfully, Ava was showering in the bathroom. I knew she was annoyed with me and would want to talk more about any possible dangers. I loved that she cared, but needed her to stay out of it. I had to get a handle on all of this. Any involvement from her would only keep me distracted.
Once I put on my shirt, I left the bedroom and went to the living room.
To my surprise, my men watched a show. Rolan swung Mrs.
Jones around in a dance as Diana Ross played in the background. I stood in horror for a minute, staring at the inconceivable. Rolan wiggled his hips and then spun her around. Mrs. Jones laughed.
This is getting out of hand.
I directed my view to my men. “Stay here. I’m going downstairs with Naveen and Maxwell.”
A few stirred on the couch.
My most loyal men Dima and Anatoly stood.
Dima spoke. “Sir, you shouldn’t go anywhere alone.”
“I know, but this meeting requires it.”
“We can go around the back. Let me know the location.”
I waved his comment away. “Stay with Ava and her grandmother. Keep her safe.”
A strained expression covered Dima’s face. “Where will you go?”
“Downstairs.” I extended my hand. “Give me your gun.”
Dima took out both.
“Thank you.” I grabbed them and left the penthouse.
Naveen and Maxwell were already in the hallway, studying each other. I didn’t think either was too sure about the other. It took Naveen a long time to trust anyone. I wasn’t sure how friendly Maxwell could be. We had got along pretty fast, but that was because we fought together in a war. The same men had killed his uncle and my father. Death and killing together could turn strangers into friends.
“They texted a message.” Naveen turned to me. “They gave instructions to enter the brothel.”
Maxwell frowned. “And I’ve explained that I don’t like the plan.”
“Let’s go.” I headed off. “If they’re inside the brothel, then they’ve been there for a few hours.”
Maxwell got to my right. “Why is that?”
“Because the Brotherhood owns the brothel. Only we are supposed to use it.”
Naveen walked on my left. “Brotherhood territory should give you some protection. It’s more your building than theirs.”
Maxwell shook his head. “I still don’t think this is cool.”
In silence, we made it to the elevator, took it down, left the building, and crossed the street. I wasn’t sure what would occur during this meeting, but my goal was to get this dilemma finished and return to Ava. In the end, she was all that mattered. The whole damn world could burst into flames around us. As long as she remained safely in my arms, I would not shed a tear or stress.
We hit the streets. A chilly breeze scrubbed against my skin. People walked by and looked at us, but nothing out of the ordinary.
When we arrived at the front of the brothel, I knew there was a problem. Usually, Brotherhood guards flanked the door. This time an unrecognizable person stood outside.
Maxwell leaned my way. “Is that a woman or a man?”
Naveen kept his voice low. “Man.”
We stopped in front of him. I studied the man, not sure what to make of him.
The almond-shaped eyes told me he was Asian. Tall and slim, he had long ashy blonde hair that was feathered and cut into layers along his face. Violet contacts covered his eyes. His lips had a ruby hue which made me think that he painted them with some sort of gloss. The oddness didn’t stop there. He wore form-fitting black pants with several silver zippers, dark boots, and a black long-sleeved shirt. The shirt didn’t have a simple cut. The silver stitching around the wrists and neckline suggested it cost money.
A deep voice left those ruby lips. “Come with me.”
He turned around, opened the door, and walked on.
“Naveen, are you sure that was a man?” Maxwell gave him an odd look. “I don’t know if I should shoot or fuck him.”
“Neither.” Naveen headed off. “Stay on guard with all of them.”
I got to Maxwell’s side. “Fuck him?”
“I’m not into dudes, but he looks better than some of the ballerinas from last night.”
Up ahead, the blond guided us forward which was comical. I’d been in this brothel many times. How could he show me around?
Several weeks ago, Maxwell, Valentina, my men, and I had killed many in this place. With a full cleaning and new management, the brothel went back to business the next day. It had been one of Sasha’s projects. Now I guess it would fall in my domain since I oversaw St Petersburg.
I’ll have to talk to Kazimir about this.
For now, it didn’t matter. Someone had shut off all the lights. Although cigarette smoke filled the dark hallway, we were the only living beings inside. No customers or prostitutes strolled around. Not one moan or grunt rose in the air. And no fellow brothers guarded any of the doors. An eerie silence hung in the darkness.
Where is everybody?
I sniffed the air and caught the scent of blood, but didn’t see any dead bodies.
I moved up to Naveen. “Talk to me.”
Whispering, Naveen gestured. “The blond is Sho. He’s Japanese. Proficient in several fighting styles, but mainly aikido and iaido. He hates guns and prefers killing with a katana which he does very well.”
I kept my voice low. “He doesn’t have his katana now.”
“Which is a positive sign.” Naveen shook his head. “You’ve been in here many times. Where do you think he is taking us?”
“The ballroom.”
“Interesting.”
Minutes later, Sho waited at the end of the hallway for us but didn’t turn around. When we came within a few feet of him, he unlocked the ballroom’s door and held it open.
Naveen and I walked through.
Maxwell followed. “Love your hair, man.”
“Thank you, Maxwell.” Sho closed the door behind us.
My body tensed. Thankfully, Maxwell didn’t appear shocked that he knew his name. However, I could tell that my friend was rattled. Yet, there was no time to worry about that. The image in front of us captured all of our attention from thereon.
What the fuck?
Naveen whispered in a shaky tone, “That’s Hiro.”
Sucking on a lollipop, Hiro sat on a mountain of dead bodies. His head was close to touching the tip of a chandelier. Even with the high ceilings, surely a mountain of anything wasn’t able to fit in the brothel’s ballroom. But one couldn’t describe the massive pile of mangled limbs and stiff corpses as a hill, heap, or stack. There was too much death and horror. Graying skin. Rotting hands gripping guns. Dried blood coated the floor. Throughout the mountain, faces peeked out—all frozen in horror.
The interesting thing was that all the bodies were men. Some were from the Brotherhood. Others must’ve been customers. Not one was a female. That showed that these Xecutioners did have some limits.
I covered my nose and blocked the odor. Naveen did the same. Meanwhile, Maxwell simply studied the bodies as if he were more than used to the stench of death.
I returned my view to Hiro.
The man hadn’t even looked our way. He simply sat on top of the mountain of death, doing something with his hands. I squinted and leaned my head to the side.
Is he painting his nails?
He placed something on the side and blew at his nails.
Yes. He’s painting his nails. What do I make of this cocky man?
Mostly short black hair outlined Hiro’s face. A dark red streak was on the right side of his head. He wore the same outfit as Sho—black silver zippered pants, long black sleeved shirt, and dark boots. He wasn’t slim like Sho. There was clear muscle under that shirt and huge shoulders to hold it all up.
We waited in silence. What else could one do when a man sat on top of dead bodies? It also gave me time to take in the space. That was when I noticed several men lining the walls. They all had on the same outfit—black silver zippered pants, long black sleeved shirts, and dark boots.
Akiva said they wore different suits to the meeting with Leonid, but tonight it’s all the same thing. This must be what they wear when they kill.
I counted five other men besides Hiro and Sho. Even with the same uniform, they boasted distinct styles. One man had blue hair in a bowl cut, while the man next to him kept his silver
hair long. Another had short brown curls. The man near him boasted black hair with pink streaks. Finally, the man with a scar on his eye donned a black hat. That one had a scar on his eye.
A door slammed behind us. I checked over my shoulder. A man walked in with short black hair. A long silver cross earring dangled from his ear.
Eight men so far.
I directed my focus back to Hiro.
On the mountain of death, Hiro blew at his hand again and then turned to us. A smile spread across his face. Seconds later, he jumped off the mountain and landed on his feet, showing strong athleticism.
He wants us to see his skills. Don’t worry. I’m taking note.
Taking the lollipop out of his mouth, Hiro prowled over to Naveen and spoke in a foreign language. I tried to figure out what language it could be. Naveen knew seven—English, Russian, Hindi, Japanese, Mandarin, Thai, and French.
Naveen held a grim expression and looked at me. “He wants you to take off your jacket and shirt. He heard you had an interesting tattoo.”
Maxwell whispered, “What the fuck?”
This was an odd position to be in. I couldn’t think of many times when I needed to keep patience in a situation. Usually, I was the top killer in the room. If not, then Kazimir stood next to me, and he could roar better than anyone.
But this group of fashionable men had cleared the brothel—killing every last man. And I didn’t see a gun in sight or any injuries on them. While Kazimir might have killed the man for such a request, I’d found a polite gesture went further than a bullet.
Putting the lollipop back in his mouth, Hiro kept his gaze on my eyes as if trying to open them up and get a peek at my soul.
Let’s see what happens.
I kept the annoyance away from my face, took off my jacket, and handed it to Naveen. Slowly, I unbuttoned my shirt. Never did I leave my view from Hiro.
When I opened my shirt, he stepped forward and lowered his gaze to the big binary tattoo on my chest.
Several of the men left the wall, walked over, and stared at it too. A few nodded and spoke to each other in languages that I couldn’t catch.
Stepping back, Hiro gestured for me to close the shirt.
The men returned to the wall.
Naveen spoke in that language again.
Hiro shrugged.
