Page 20 of Hunt Me (Dmitriyev Bratva #1)

M ikhail

“We understand how dangerous a mask can be. We all become what we pretend to be.”

Patrick Rothfuss

There was no such thing as being able to hide from the truth, even when wearing a mask. As I walked through Ecstasy, the quote came to mind, something my father had said more than once.

Usually while standing over the dead body of a traitor.

I’d learned the truth the hard way over the years. In the early days, I’d been forced to participate in several heinous acts of brutality that weren’t for the faint of heart. I’d been considered a monster to those who’d dared breathe an ill thought about the Dmitriyev name.

Let alone daring to betray my father or my uncle, two of the most powerful men to enter Las Vegas at a time when cash was needed.

I’d pretended the blood and gore could easily be washed away, but blood stained, the stench lingering even after years of rot and decay.

Eventually the mask had no longer been necessary. I’d become what I’d only pretended to be.

However, those days were mostly behind us.

Or they should be. Yet with the Irish breathing down our necks, it was possible the old methods of doing business would need to be brought to the forefront.

Through hard work and perseverance, my family had revitalized the downtown, creating a kingdom within several years. They’d learned from the mistakes of their fathers while accepting the United States as their new home.

But that didn’t mean the bones of the resorts weren’t built on the blood of sacrificial lambs or without blackmail and extortion.

The two powerful men had carefully built a reputation as being legitimate while the bread and butter of the corporation had been funded by the illegal sale of drugs and weapons.

It hadn’t been without strife, including dealing with members of law enforcement.

Until my father and uncle had taken a stronghold over the various departments.

It hadn’t hurt that regular donations had been made to their respective organizations and still were.

Even as they’d started to look the other way, required acts of violence had decreased.

In Russia, we’d lived behind iron gates, a necessity given the violence experienced on the streets of Moscow every day. I’d been a young boy who’d been forced to grow up quickly. Neither my brothers nor my sisters had been forced to endure such atrocities.

For that I was grateful.

I’d left Moscow an angry kid, turning into an enraged young man. My siblings were different, never forced to endure the kind of terror that had lingered in my dreams. Hell, they were more American than Russian by this point.

After I’d turned seventeen, I’d become my father’s enforcer. I’d learned there was no room for regret or remorse within our world. My moral compass had been smashed at an early age.

Yet now, as I walked through the halls of the empire I’d taken to an entirely new level, I realized almost everyone wore a mask.

Whether for an event or for a job, a marriage that was no longer working or even when dealing with family members, there wasn’t a person alive who hadn’t taken solace in pretending to be someone or something they weren’t.

That was especially true in the city. The old saying that what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas had been taken to heart. Tourists were often reckless, performing acts or deeds that they’d never consider while living their perfectly normal if not boring lives.

From gambling to prostitution, infidelity to kink clubs, if you were willing to wear a mask, you could satisfy any proclivity.

Nightmares.

I’d had them my entire life, often awakening me in a cold sweat. While I almost never remembered any details, I knew in my gut they were bloody as fuck. If I had to guess, I’d say some psychiatrist would have a field day, telling me that my guilt was the reason.

Bullshit.

I knew better.

There’d been no sleep before, the dream coming in vivid images of the night I’d lost my conscience.

Had it popped up because I felt remorse?

Not a chance in hell. However, any time the Irish were mentioned, I had brutal reactions.

This time, I knew the answer. The realization that drugs were flowing through the city I loved with all my heart.

People were dying, just like they had over twenty years before.

What few knew was that I’d suffered a personal loss, the tragedy fueling the bitter anger.

Even now, as I tried to shove aside the memories, they lingered in the forefront of my mind. I needed a release, or the rage would turn into something more explosive.

Exhaling, I tried to concentrate on my job and the upcoming meeting. The nightmares would need to be put on hold.

Tonight was buzzing. With the start of the residency of Lainey Rose, the pop singer considered a worldwide phenomenon, the resort was booked for months.

Getting her signature on a signed contract had taken months, considered a coup since there wasn’t a single resort anywhere who hadn’t courted her like she was the queen.

I couldn’t care less about pop music, yet was impressed that my cousin Sasha had somehow managed to convince her we were the right fit.

At least the asshole from two nights before had yet to resurface.

Or I should say he’d remained quiet when dumped into a special taxi we used when trouble brewed, the driver on our payroll.

If he was on O’Shaughnessy’s payroll, the warning had been received.

That would require extra caution in the upcoming days.

With business booming, I was more diligent in both security and operations. This was a prime opportunity for high-rolling cheaters and for our enemies to try to make a move.

I’d learned to watch out for every snake unearthed.

I headed onto the main floor of the smaller casino, the location preferred by our more elite guests.

“How’s it going tonight, Charlie?” I asked as I flanked his side. The blackjack dealer had been with me for ten years.

He grinned as he threw me a look. “Only one issue, but security handled him immediately.”

“Any inebriated guests?”

My employee knew what I was asking. “Nothing substantial.”

“Keep an eye out.”

“I always do.”

I clapped him on the back. The man had an uncanny ability to notice card sharks from across the room. “Remind me to give you a raise.”

“You got it, boss.”

Within every club, we’d had a discussion with the managers. If anyone was caught with illegal drugs, they were to be reported and eventually tossed out. But they were well aware one of the family needed to have a chance to speak with them first.

As I headed toward the executive elevators, I continuously scanned the floor. Just before I moved through the secure door, I gathered a whiff of perfume and for a moment, I was brought back to two nights before and the time spent with a beautiful woman.

I turned around, searching for the source. When I locked eyes with another beautiful woman, she lifted her eyebrows as if eager to accept my invitation.

Only it was to the wrong woman. I merely gave her a nod as a dismissal and turned away just like I’d done the night before.

Here I was prowling the halls of the resort, still curious if I’d find my raven-haired beauty.

I was disappointed once again. A smile crossed my face as I realized I could easily find her identity.

I had a half dozen methods of doing so, including contacting my sister if necessary. Perhaps the anonymity was more fun.

I shook my head, laughing at myself before allowing the scanner to check my fingerprints. The meeting I was headed to was important, a final sit down for the newly formed alliance. With the Costas returning to Reno in the morning, we’d agreed holding the meeting off business hours was a necessity.

Since I was alone in the elevator, I allowed myself to envision the stunning beauty once again. Even though regrets weren’t part of my nature, I did regret not waking her, enjoying another delicious round of passion.

The elevator doors opened and I immediately heard voices. I’d purposely arrived late as I wasn’t a patient man and waited for no one.

When I headed into the room, I was surprised at the jovial tone of the conversations.

Everyone had gathered, only the patriarchs of all three families were absent.

In attendance were Kazimir and Alexsey, my two younger brothers; Vissarian, Sasha, and Nadia, my cousins; and from the Costa clan were three of the four sons. Since Giovanni was on his honeymoon, Stefano, DiAngelo, and Alessandro were representing the Italian alliance.

The conference room was filled to capacity, the liquor flowing.

While the final contracts were on the table, they were being ignored. Yes, we’d all had ample opportunity to go over the final details, but I’d demanded we all be in the same room when they were signed.

“Lainey Rose,” Alessandro said to Sasha. “How did you pull that off?”

He laughed. “I told Lainey she had a very special fan who’d be highly disappointed if she didn’t agree to her daddy’s terms.”

“Smart kid,” Alexsey muttered.

Sasha beamed. The man could be father of the year. “Nina received Lainey’s entire collection signed by the artist. The hit of her birthday.”

“The unicorn didn’t take precedence?” I teased.

He threw me a nasty look. “She tried to sleep with the damn thing.”

Chuckling, I took my seat at the head of the table, not bothering with a drink. This wasn’t a social visit or a celebration. While they continued talking about nonsense in my opinion, including the new sports stadium recently opened to the public, I drummed my fingers on the table.

When I’d finally had enough, I slammed my palm down, the force enough to draw their attention.

“Mikhail?” Vissarian asked. He knew my mood swings, the darkness festering inside. He’d learned early on how aggressive I could be.

“We need to get this meeting underway,” I answered, ignoring his look of amusement.