Page 16 of Break Me
Alessandro Costa, a family member of the Costa Nostra that we’d entered an alliance with. Not only was he an expert hacker, but he knew everybody and had access to various information sources including the CIA’s. He’d proven his worth more than once.
“Still married?”
“Don’t you know that was past tense?” my cousin teased. My look turned dark. “He died about eighteen months ago in a fire.”
“Huh.” I slid the glass across the bar then took a sip of my scotch. “Maybe that’s why she was not interested in having dinner with me. Or maybe she was still a plant.”
“Let me get this straight. A beautiful woman was part of a conspiracy to burn you at the stake then turned around and risked her life to save you. Then to add insult to injury, she turned down an invitation from the self-purported hottest man in Vegas for a dinner date. Is that about right?”
“Is there anything that goes on in this family that isn’t an open book?”
I noticed Mikhail approaching out of the corner of my eye. He’d made several phone calls to try to determine if I was correct in my assumptions about Papadakis. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to know I was. “Not when a horrific crime was committed that almost ended my cousin’s life.”
Exhaling, I learned against the bar. “I don’t think she’s involved in some conspiracy. We don’t even have any clue if the O’Learysare the Irish clan in question.” Also they seemed to be the name I’d heard most often.
“No, but there are several unsubstantiated rumors. Just talk on the street that the O’Learys are heavily in debt to Viktor Papadakis.”
“That isn’t a smoking gun by any means. Papadakis has been widely known to offer loans to unsuspecting idiots. Plus, he runs a high stakes poker game. He’s worse than a loan shark with his interest rates.” Vissarian chuckled. “That’s how they made their fortune. Not from selling food products to restaurants. That’s simply their cover. Although that is where he managed to snag many of his clients.”
“If we go on that assumption, what is the point of raising our prices like some freaking tariffs?” I honestly hadn’t been able to figure that out as of yet.
Mikhail moved around the bar, making himself a bourbon. “No clue whatsoever.”
“The all-knowing Pakhan doesn’t know. Fascinating.” While he was my brother, he was the Pakhan and as such, he was owed respect. But not when we were discussing things as a family. That didn’t mean he didn’t throw me a hateful look.
“How do you want to handle this?” Vissarian asked.
Mikhail remained thoughtful. “Like I already told Alexsey, carefully. While neither Viktor nor Petros are considered pillars of the community, we need to use prudence in how we respond. Did you cut the contracts with them recently?” he asked me.
“Not the ones that are currently under contract. We are a professional business. But… if you remember correctly, theboard of directors awarded the contract for Genesis to another firm when the one with Performance runs out.”
Mikhail nodded. “Pricing.”
“Yes, but not to a tune of three hundred percent.”
“Why not sue them in court for breaching the contract?” Vissarian asked then threw up his hands. While we’d legitimated the majority of business, that didn’t mean Papadakis or a dozen other unscrupulous companies we’d had run-ins with had. Just the opposite. Where we were trying to stay on the right side of the law, they were purposely returning to a darker time in the city when the Bratva owned a third, the Irish another third, and a mixture of Italians and Armenians owned the remainder.
And almost all business had run under the table, monies paid by local businesses for security and loyalty. We’d seen the ebb and flow in the last year and a half.
“My guess is that torching your house was meant as a warning.” Mikhail sipped his drink while studying my reaction.
“Was Viktor in power when Pops was the Pakhan?”
“He worked under his uncle or father at the time. Not a big player that I remember.”
I’d expected Mikhail’s answer. “Then Viktor is at a disadvantage. He doesn’t know just how powerful we can be.” I glanced from him to Vissarian.
My cousin shook his head. “Are you saying we’ve gone soft?”
“How quickly you forget my brother wasn’t raised as we were, Vis.” Mikhail pulled his glass to his lips, his eyes flashing as if eagerly waiting for me to disagree.
He was right. Private schools. College away from the city. A normal kid living a normal life while my father ruled with an iron fist. My first experience firing a weapon had been taking shooting lessons while in college.
I hadn’t wanted anything to do with the family business, but my father had nagged me endlessly, reminding me I was a Dmitriyev by birth. I’d finally relented. Unlike Mikhail and Vissarian, I hadn’t even pulled the trigger on anyone until I’d come to work with the family ten years before. Sure, I’d had my run-in with the law early on, acting like every rich teenager had, but my criminal activities had never been about the family.
When I’d finally had to use my weapon and had nearly taken a man’s life, I’d been troubled for days. It was only when someone had tried to assassinate our mother and father while celebrating their anniversary dinner when I’d wanted to act on my need for revenge.
I had.
