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The text messages are more like coded riddles, but I think that I have it.

I run my fingers through my hair and lean back into the black leather chair, resting my arm on the armrest. I look at Pakhan, my Brat Lev, focusing on the information on the screen and pressing his lips tight.

I know that he wants to get all of the bastards that want to take what's ours, our territory, and our Bratva. But it seems like we take out a crew, and another one pops up. It's a fucking revolving door. The underworld dark web is constantly buzzing; some information is bogus, others a little too old, and some in damn riddles. I scrub my face and look at the monitor one more time. I can't mess up.

"Pakhan, I'm going to check out the drug deal that the Irish Mob and Polish Mob are going to do on our territory tonight. The Irish Mob rented an old warehouse at the edge of our turf. It doesn't appear that it's more than a mob transaction, not as if they're selling the stuff on our turf and trying to take over. The intel, the texts that I decoded, appear to indicate it's a transaction that they're making," I say, looking at Pakhan.

"Da, check it out, but be careful," Pakhan utters, raising his brow.

"I’ll go with you,” Czar says, pointing his finger.

“Nyet, you two have to go home. Remember that your wifey is waiting for you for dinner,” I smirk, resting my hands on my waist.

I stare at my Brats; they’re fucking pussy whipped. They run home for dinner, and I’m the only suka working late. I take all of the extra work so they can enjoy their new family. Pakhan has twins, and Czar has a boy. Da, I’m happy for my Brats because I know that they love their family.

“Da, call if you need help,” Czar hums, raising his brow.

“Da, don’t do anything on your own,” Pakhan says, gathering his brows.

“Nyet! I got this. Da, no worries,” I say, nodding.

It’s time.

I don’t see a damn thing.

The dark street is quiet; the only sound is the pounding of the rain hitting the windshield. The sound is getting on my fucking nerves. I stare out the window, grinding my molars. I fucking want a smoke, but I can’t. It would give me away if the fuckers are here, and I can’t risk it.

I grab the night vision binoculars to check if anything is happening at the fucking old warehouse. The warehouse looks abandoned, with no fucking activity. I grind my molars; my mind is racing, thinking and reviewing the information that I gathered from the dark web. This is fucked up; I’m the fucking master in all IT, in hacking and collecting data for my Pakhan.

My mind is a riot of thoughts, trying to figure out where I failed to connect the fucking dots. I was confident that I decoded the messages between the Irish Mob and the Polish Mob. They were meeting for the sale of Ecstasy. That’s what I thought I figured it out.

I rub my neck and close my eyes, trying to clear my mind.

So, are sukas now in a partnership, as in an alliance?

It’s a fucking mess; I fucked up because the svoloch’ were sworn enemies; everyone knows that. How the fuck did I think that they were doing business among themselves.

Da, because of the stupid texts.

That’s where I went wrong.

I need to look into it.

Fucking hell!

Nyet!

Pakhan is going to blow a gasket.

Fuck!

Nyet, it could be a trap.

Da, it’s starting to seem like it.

I fucked up, and now I have to fix it. So, my counsel was fucking wrong; what the fuck. I told Pakhan that they’re not on our territory to take over but to meet, to do their fucking business because it’s halfway for them. The Irish Mob and Polish Mob were not meeting to conduct their sale of Ecstasy here on our turf.

Nyet, the Irish are up to no good on our turf. I can’t allow the fuckers to take an inch of our territory, it’s not happening.

It’s fucking incredible that the stupid Irish are on our turf, and this bullshit falls in my hands. It’s not as if they’re fucking organized, nor do they have any type of serious hierarchy. Most of the Irish went into the civil jobs, polices, post office, that sort of thing. But fuck, they’re here. To the world, they’re not active, thought of as a thing of the past, but they’re here.

And now they’re trying to take our turf!

That’s not happening.

Nyet!

I’m the fucking Obshchak, the Pakhan’s fucking Consigliere, one of his Spies. The other Spie, Sovietnik, is my twin, Czar. Pakhan is our older Brat Lev. He takes his role seriously as Pakhan and has a tight rein on the Bratva. Pakhan monitors everything, and as one of his Spies, Obshchak, it’s my job to handle Bratva security. That’s why I’m fucking pissed off.

I have to take out the Irish.

These motherfuckers will not take our turf, not after all we went through.

Before Lev came to New York, he was in Russia, getting groomed for Pakhan. Our Otets was Pakhan, and he had us train here, but we had the same intense training as Lev.

A few years ago, the stupid sovolch’ Obshchak Balken tried a coup and killed my Otets, the Pakhan, but he failed. The suka didn’t know about us, Lev arrived in New York, got Balken’s fucking routine down to the last fuck, and that’s literally all he did, and we took the svoloch’ out ASAP. The motherfucker didn’t see it coming. We took back our Bratva, our legacy.

Hell yes.

The fucker is here.

I see the fucking car pull into the warehouse parking lot and park in front of the door. I grab my binoculars and focus on the suka that gets out of the black SUV. He walks to the door, slides the key into the doorknob, and opens it. He disappears into the warehouse. I stare at the fucking warehouse door. I should go after the fucker and make him give me everything he knows about this fucking trap.

“Da.”

I set the binoculars down and move my hand around the center console, searching for my cell phone. Then I hear the SUV door slam close. I look up and see the lights turn red, and it reverses, turns, and pulls out of the parking lot.

“Nyet! Motherfucker can’t get away from me!”

This is fucking crazy. I should have brought my Soldiers, but I was only going to check out what the fuckers were doing on our turf.

I turn on my Audi, press on the gas, and follow the SUV. I follow him down the street, and then I get hit in the back by another SUV. The SUV behind me runs into me again, pushing me forward. I press on the gas, the car springs forward, and the SUV in front of me stops; the red lights flash as the Suka reverses. The fucker is backing up at a fast rate of speed, the fucker behind me runs into me again, and I turn the wheel to move to the side, but the impact pushes me off the road, and my wheels lose traction. My Audi flips over, and bullets are hitting my car. I pull out my gun from my holster, the airbag explodes, and I can’t shoot at them. The car continues to roll, and the glass explodes as the bullets hit the vehicle. I feel the pain in my arm and my side.

Fuck!

My car stopped rolling. Great, I’m upside down. The door is caved in, and I can’t open it. I need to get out before the fuckers come and finish me off.

Fuck me!

Then I hear more gunshots, there’s more of them, and I know that I’m fucked. I look for my cell phone to call my Brats but I can’t see it or move to search for it. I’m trapped inside without any hope. I can feel blood on my face, and my body hurts. The gunshots keep hitting my car. I can’t see the fuckers, but I can hear the gunshots and footsteps getting closer, and only a few bullets hit the Audi.

Fuckers must be stupid shots if they can’t hit me.

Motherfuckers.

I hear the footsteps come closer, and I look to see who the fucker is that set the trap.

Then I see the tall, skinny blonde man with a red beard and black eyes pointing his gun at me. His eyes are cold, dark, and emotionless, and he has an ashen, stoic face.

“Kravtsov, Magee never forgets,” the Blonde man growls.

I can see it in the blonde man's cold eyes; he’s going to kill me. I stare at the motherfucker, waiting for it.

Then, all of a sudden, his head explodes like a melon. I blink, looking around.

What the fuck!

I see fucking Fuentes, the Cartel’s Capo looking at me.

“Anatoly, what the fuck are you doing,” Fuentes growls, shaking his head.

“Fuck, what are you doing here? Are you part of the Magee trap,” I ask, grinding my molars.

Fuentes spits on the ground at his feet and glares at me, giving me the middle finger.

“Stupid cabron! I’m here saving your hairy ass, and you’re a fucking ungrateful puto,” Fuentes growls.

“It looks like you're in with the Irish,” I hiss, lowering my eyelids.

“Cabron, calm the fuck down. My informants told me what was going down. I figured I would save your ass,” Fuentes shrugs, smiling.

“Why would you do that,” I ask, raising my brow.

“Because I want you to owe me your life and to establish our alliance,” Fuentes growls, waving his gun.

“What the fuck are you talking about,” I hiss, looking at the fucking gun.

“The Boss wants to work with Bratva, so he’s going to call your Pakhan,” Fuentes says, shrugging.

“What the fuck!”

“Si, it’s fucked up. I don’t see how it will work, but I follow orders. So do you, so I want us to work together, not fucking have a target on my back,” Fuentes says, nodding.

“Get me the fuck out of here,” I say, closing my eyes.

I force myself to open my eyes to hear Fuentes.

“I’m not getting you out because I have to leave before the cops and fire department get here. I just wanted to chat and establish our alliance,” Fuentes says, moving his head to the side to look at me. “The ambulance is almost here. Those fuckers are dead, so I don’t know, you’re going to have to use your power to take care of this mess.”

Then I black out.

“Mr. Kravtsov, the x-ray tech is here. I’ll return after I get the results,” Dr. Singh hums, holding his tablet.

“Okay,” I nod, looking at the two women walking into the room.

Well, the young, sexy woman is gorgeous. She looks at me and smiles, and a soft blush spreads through her face. The older woman pushes the portable X-ray machine next to me.

Dr. Singh lifts his chin and walks out of the room.

“Mr. Kravtsov, I’m Lilly, and this is Georgina. Would it be okay to have her take your x-ray for training,” Lilly asks, smiling at me.

“Yes,” I say in a low, raspy voice.

My throat is dry, my heart is skipping beats, and my blood is going south.

Fuck me!

This girl has me all worked up!

I stare at her as she listens to Lilly, and she looks at me with huge hazel eyes. She bites her lip and takes the X-rays as instructed. I stare at her, inhale deeply, and her scent hits me. Her touch burns as she navigates the machine and the X-ray components.

“Georgina, look at the x-ray, it looks good, so we don’t need to redo it,”

“Awesome,” Georgina hums, glancing at me.

I look at her, but my eyes feel heavy. I need to close my eyes for a minute. Then I open them up and look at her. I don’t have the strength to flirt and get her number, but I’m so interested in her. I close my eyes as they walk out of the room.

I open my eyes; the light causes a piercing pain in my head, and I close them. I moan and try to move.

“Brat, you need to stop moving,” Czar says next to me.

“Fuck, my entire body hurts,” I hiss, turning to look at him.

“Do you want some water,” Pakhan asks, handing me a plastic glass.

“Let me help you,” Czar says.

Czar helps me with the glass, and I take a few sips.

“The doctor said that I was lucky. My head hurts from the impact and wound on my head, so I have a mild concussion. The gun wound on my arm wasn’t terrible. The doctor stitched it up, but I have bruises on my body; the bruises on my side make it hard to breathe. I’m lucky that I didn’t crack my ribs, any bones, or have any other serious injuries,” I say, leaning back into the pillow, inhaling deeply, wincing from the pain, and closing my eyes.

Fuck!

“Da, you are. So, tell me what happened,” Pakhan says, standing at the foot of my bed and looking at me.

“I went to check out the svoloch, and it turned out that it was a trap. I waited and waited, then an SUV drove into the warehouse parking lot . . . . . . .then I blacked out. I woke up here in the hospital,” I say, looking at my Brats.

“Fuck! You know better, Anatoly! Why didn’t you take the fucking Soldiers,” Pakhan growls, running his fingers through his hair.

“I was only going to check out what the hell the svoloch’ were doing on our turf, as we agreed,” I utter, grabbing my side, grimacing as I move.

It’s supposed to be fucking bruise, but it feels like my rib is broken, fuck.

“Da, but you scared the fuck out of us,” Czar hisses, fisting his hands.

I know that he’s pissed off.

“Da, I fucked up. Now I owe my life to Fuentes,” I huff, closing my eyes.

“Motherfucker! Yeah, you do. We will deal with his fucking demand when it happens. I have Soldiers stationed at the door until you’re released. I’m going to get us some coffee,” Pakhan says, walking out of the hospital room.

I know that Pakhan is pissed off and decides to walk away before he says anything that he would regret. Pakhan wants to keep the Brat's love and respect intact.

“What the fuck! You can’t go and scout the fuckers without taking your Soldiers! What were you thinking,” Czar hisses.

“The motherfuckers set a trap,” I say through clenched teeth.

“Da,” Czar says, shaking his head.