Page 29 of Dirty Quinn
16
Ronan
“Busy day,” Andrei grunts as he enters the study, two hours later than our agreed upon meeting time.
I coolly look at my watch, then at him, brows raised. The other men with him fade back into the shadows of the room, allowing Andrei to take on the full brunt of my anger.
I remain silent, waiting to see how he will excuse himself. The lack of respect his tardiness demonstrates is not tolerable.
Not realizing my mood, or perhaps just ignoring it, Andrei walks to the bar cart and helps himself to a glass of my vodka, taking a large sip that he finishes with a content sigh before taking the chair opposite mine. His legs spread, his posture slovenly.
I look at him coolly and see in his eyes once he realizes the error of his ways, with the lateness in the day, at the same time not having a time machine in which to go back and fix it.
“What time were we set to meet, Andrei?” My tone is calm, but the meaning behind it is anything but. My heavy crystal tumbler hangs from the fingertips of my right hand, with just a trace of vodka left in it. The fingers on my left hand running up and down the arm of the chair lightly. To the casual observer, I probably look as though we are shooting the shit, as the Americans say, and having a light conversation. But to Andrei, who I’ve known for over fifteen years, it means something entirely different.
My fury rarely needs to show itself. When it does, it is deadly.
Andrei swallows visibly before answering. “Two o’clock, boss.”
“What time is it now?”
Several of the men, including Andrei, scramble to answer. “Four o’clock.”
I nod.
“What is four minus two, Andrei?”
“Uh, two?”
“Which means?”
“I’m two hours late?” He says it like a question even though he knows the answer. And I would forgive him if he didn’t also in that same moment sit forward, elbows on knees, and turn to scoff toward the guys behind him, as though this isn’t a big deal. Something he can do whenever he wants. No need to pay attention to detail or authority. I drain the vodka from my glass, then lean toward him and smash the tumbler against his temple. The heavy base protects my hand slightly as the thin mouth of the glass shatters into his skin, cutting him in multiple places, barely missing his left eye.
Andrei slumps in his chair, knocked out cold by the blow.
“Get the fuck out of here,” I roar to the men. “And take this piece of trash with you.” I can’t wait any longer for Daria to heal. I need her to take Andrei out now. The longer he stays in my employ, the weaker I look. I want them all gone. Every last one of these assholes who are out with him, and who returned late as well. I pull a burner phone from my desk and send Daria a message.
UNKNOWN: Up my order to sixpiroshki. I’m feeling hungry.
It takes a moment before she responds.
UNKNOWN: Six is a good number. Will that satisfy all your hunger?
I type back that it will. Then head upstairs to the bedroom I’m using while I stay here to pull the small pieces of glass from my palm that embedded themselves when I hit Andrei. I don’t always like to do my own dirty work, preferring a degree of separation when possible. Because at this point in my career, I can afford to give myself arm’s length from the law. But even I can’t deny there was something exceedingly satisfying about smashing that crystal tumbler into Andrei’s face. The moment the thinner top rim collapsed from the impact, seeking purchase against the weaker flesh, the battle between the two barely even. In truth, I’m lucky I didn’t slice my palm open. Any damage done to me was worth it after seeing Andrei crumble in his chair. The men behind him failing to hold back their surprise. The new guy more than anyone else.
I know little about him other than Andrei recently brought him on. Supposedly a poach from Viktor Limonov, which doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Anything that I can take from that man I will. I met the new guy for the first time yesterday, but I had a feeling I’d met him before. Or seen him somewhere. Andrei introduced the guy as Rico, but I doubt that’s his real name. He looks to clean to be a Rico. And not clean in a general hygiene kind of way, but more in a legal way.
As far as I’m concerned, this Rico will have limited access to me, my operations, and my knowledge. Andrei has a tendency to act without thinking. For all we know, Viktor Limonov has planted Rico in our organization as a spy. Which means I must test Rico at the same time I do away with Andrei. Maybe I can have Daria and her girls add Rico to their list.
If they are already taking out six of my men, what’s another one? She’s getting what she wants out of the deal, Katya’s killer and her friend’s life spared. Surely her friends one life is worth just as much, if not more, than seven of my low-life traitors.
We’ll make an example of those who have turned against me, and if anyone dares try it again, they’ll be dealt with just as swiftly. A man in my position can’t afford rebellion.
Because if Andrei or any of the men think they can take anything from me, they’ve got another think coming, as the American’s say.
17
Daria
