Page 39 of The Bratva's Arranged Virgin Bride
Chapter 21 - Kolya
The last thing I wanted to do when I should have been enjoying a leisurely dinner with my wife was babysit the gallery. But Vissarion was champing at the bit to see the place and left me no choice. If I didn’t go and let him in, he’d break in or stake out the shopping center and creep everyone out. The man was like a tick, burrowing in and wanting to be part of it all.
Though I had given them forty-eight hours, I got word that Darla and her husband were already on their way to Mexico. Once I got to the gallery and ushered my new partner in, I wished she had grown a spine and stuck around. Despite her faults, I needed someone like her. I was better at arranging artists who could keep their mouths shut and finding buyers who weren’t that bright. Making the place look as inviting as possible wasn’t my strong suit.
And it turned out, Vissarion was even worse. He jumped right in, bulldozing his way through the displays, moving things, placing jarring modern abstracts with serene landscapes. After bumbling around for an hour, he stood back and surveyed everything he’d done with a misplaced sense of pride. The colors competed, and the styles were all mixed up. The place looked like shit.
It was as amateur as we could get, but when I shoved him aside to try to fix what he’d done, it still didn’t look good.
The one thing I had learned from working this scam for years was that customers needed an elite experience, the feeling of being surrounded by people who knew more than they did. Any slob off the street would know instantly that wasn’t what was going on here. My irritation seemed to feed Vissarion, and he accused me of trying to sabotage the plan.
“It’s my plan,” I reminded him. “You jumped on board to try to screw me over once again.”
“If I wanted to screw you over, you’d already be screwed, old friend.”
“I was never your friend,” I said, scoffing at his confidence. “You never got one over on me.”
“And yet I’m here, fixing the mess you’ve made of this place so that I can turn a profit off of it.”
I looked him over, wondering if my first assessment was true. “Back to gambling? Where’d you lose your shirt this time? Tell me it wasn’t Vegas. You know my brother recently bought a hotel there.” That seemed to hit him harder than it should have, and I shrugged. “If you need money that badly, you really should step aside and let me work, or this place will go down harder than you already have.”
He lunged at me, and I neatly sidestepped his uncontrolled anger. He never could think before he swung. He tried again, and I was irritated enough to consider throwing a punch or two of my own, but then we both froze.
There was a noise from the back, a scuffling and scraping, then a quick silence as if whoever made it was trying to cover it up. It was past closing time for the shopping center by now, and no one else should have known we were there.
“Wait here,” I hissed. “I’ll check it out.
Of course, he followed me. The sensation of walking into an ambush crept up the back of my neck. I moved silently to the back door and peeked out the cloudy peephole. The feeling I was about to be attacked got worse when I saw it was one of Nat’s uncles trying to break in. I whipped around to see Vissarion looking at me questioningly.
So far, he hadn’t made a single mention of the Fokins or knowing anything about our recent alliance, and I meant to keep it that way for Nat’s protection. And I absolutely didn’t want them knowing I was dealing with Vissarion Kotlov. He was everyone’s enemy, and they would only think I was plotting something even worse than whatever they imagined I was planning with my brother. Already furious with Vissarion for meddling in my affairs, I was more than fine with knocking him out cold with the butt of my gun before he could ask who was at the door.
He crumpled to the floor with a thud, and I dragged him out of sight before opening the door as Nik was about to tamper with the lock. Of course, it had to be one of the hot-headed ones. But then again, Mat wouldn’t have been snooping after hours if he were interested in my gallery.
How the hell did they find out about it in the first place? They were better than I gave them credit for.
I stared him down, then looked past him at the narrow strip of concrete where delivery trucks parked. His car was parked right there, empty, near the row of dumpsters for the shops. It wasn't usually their way to skulk around trash bins.
He was alone and made no move to crash past me, so I relaxed, staying cool for the moment. Stepping outside, I shut the door firmly behind me, blocking it from a sudden rush. The last thing I needed was for him to see Vissarion laid out on the floor.
“What brings you to this part of town so late at night?” I asked.
“Cut the shit,” he grunted. “We got intel that you were setting something up, and I figured you were up to no good. Decided to check it out for myself.”
“If you’re so interested in every little business I buy, I can have my accountant make you a list. When I have time, I could probably arrange tours. Since you’re family, I’ll even dispense with the non-disclosure agreements.”
Nik bristled, and we stared coldly at one another for a long moment as he decided whether this was worth a fight. He seemed to be acting alone, but I was sure he’d make a report if he found something he didn’t like. It was clear he didn’t like me much.
“Is Nat here?” he asked, taking a step forward.
I remained steady. “Nat’s not involved with this, and neither are you, so you can leave now, since I still have work to finish up. Oh, and if you’re interested in keeping score over who’s up to no good, I’m sure the Fokins would win at that game.”
Shockingly, Nik laughed at that, honestly amused at my jab. He backed up toward his car, pointing at me as he went. “I’ve got eyes on you. You’d better be treating my niece well.”
“You’d know she was being treated like a queen if you stopped being stubborn and talked to her,” I said. He didn’t like that one bit, so, of course, I kept going. “In fact, why don’t you join us for dinner?”
Nik rolled his eyes, reaching behind him for his car door. “The arrangement doesn’t make us family, Mikhailov. Or whatever name you’re going by this week.”
He got in his car and smoothly rolled down the length of the shopping center, in no hurry. I waved as he turned the corner, but I was strangely hurt by his words. There was no time to examine why, because I remembered I had an enemy inside who was going to want to fight when he regained consciousness.
I wasn’t in the mood for that. The only thing I wanted was to get home and try to soothe away the bad temper my wife was sure to be in since I forgot to message her when I rushed out. Screw Vissarion, screw the gallery for now, even. I locked up, leaving him to wonder what happened when he finally woke up.
