Page 4

Matthias

I listen to Roman talk as I rush out of the café, irritation bubbling under the surface. I’ve been waiting for his update, but did it really have to come right before I got my coffee?

One of our men caught a Bratva member snooping around our territory last night. He was propositioning men outside one of the nightclubs. They know they’re not allowed in our territory. The consequences can be deadly. Before Roman kills him, we need to know what he was up to.

Even though I run the legal side of the family, I still stay in the loop about what’s happening on the other side. We try to keep the two worlds separate, but inevitable crossover occurs. It’s better for us to all stay informed.

“The man is a low-level soldier,” Roman says. “I could tell based off his tattoos. He claims he didn’t know he was on our turf.”

I take a sharp turn down an alley to make the conversation private. Another turn, and I’m behind a brick building, leaning against the wall .

“Is he lying?”

“Yeah. The Bratva may be inept, but they make sure every recruit knows where the boundaries are.”

“You sure?”

“Let’s just say, I used some very persuasive methods to get the truth out of him.” I can hear Roman’s grin at that, the sick bastard. No doubt those methods were bloody.

I sigh. “Spare me the details of the torture. I trust your methods. Did he tell you what he was selling? New blow?”

“That’s where it gets weird. He claims he doesn’t know.”

I straighten. “What the fuck do you mean, ‘he doesn’t know’? He’s obviously lying. Threaten to cut his tongue out if he doesn’t start using it to tell the truth.”

“I don’t think he is, man.” Roman sounds just as confused as I feel. “He claims he was told to lure men behind some clubs and send them to Bratva-owned clubs on their side of town.”

That doesn’t sit right. “Are you sure it’s not drugs?” Their product is garbage, cut with rat poison, bleach, and fentanyl. I don’t know how they have any clients left with how many their drugs kill. “I don’t want that shit killing people in our city.”

“I really don’t think it’s drugs.” Roman exhales sharply. “I’ll push him for more information.”

“Did you question the men outside the club?”

“Too drunk or high to remember anything.”

I grind my jaw. “Fuck. Are you going to kill him, or let him crawl back to Viktor with a message?”

“Not my call. Gotta see what Dom says.”

“Fine. If any more come into our territory, we need to know if it’s shoot-on-sight or bring them in for questioning. Keep me updated.”

I don’t usually get my hands dirty, but if I do, I need to know the rules of engagement.

“Will do,” Roman says, then hangs up.

And I hear a crash.