Captivated by the deadly mafia boss

Micah

My father’s boisterous laugh warns me he’s in my office before I reach the door. It’s already been a shitstorm of a day, and now I have to deal with him. This restaurant isn’t just a way to bring the family closer to legitimacy; it’s the one thing in all of our dealings that’s completely mine to run. No oversight, no one to answer to or run shit by first. It’s just mine.

But my father forgets.

“Hey.” Dimitri catches me as I reach for the door. “Give him a minute.”Content property of NôvelDra/ma.Org.

I drop my hand from the handle. “What’s he doing?”

My cousin grins.

“Who is he doing?” I made it clear the restaurant staff was off limits. We’re running a clean business here; we can’t have sexual harassment suits happening.

“He’s been here a while waiting for you,” Dimitri explains with a shrug.

“I don’t want him manhandling the staff.” I push through the door into my office. My father turns to me, a wide-eyed smile frozen on his lips. One of the waitresses, Tammy, Tanya, something like that, is sitting on his lap, playing with his tie.

“Micah. You’re here. Finally.” My father pats the girl’s hip. “Back to work.”

She slides off his lap and throws a wink his way before shuffling toward the door. As she passes me, I grab her arm.

“I want a word later.” She lowers her eyes and nods. If she thinks she’s going to get anywhere in this restaurant by cozying up to my father, I’m going to set her straight. And if Roman overstepped this afternoon, I’m going to have to apologize on his behalf, while not apologizing for him.

Some days I wonder if I’m going to finally tip off the tightrope I walk.

“Dimitri.” I stop him before he walks away. “I’m running late. Call Niko and tell him to go my apartment and pick up Lena and take her to her father’s house. She’s going to get some of her things. Whatever she can’t fit into the SUV, have a few guys go over tomorrow to get.”

“You got it.” Dimitri pulls my office door closed, leaving me to deal with Roman on my own.

“Did we have a meeting set up?” I slide my hands into my pockets. He’s sitting at my desk, but he’s still the head of this family. So like it or not, I’m going to remain standing on this side for the time being.

“No.” He leans back in my chair. “You had a meeting with Joseph Staszek this afternoon.”

“I did. He wanted to talk about his daughter. It had nothing to do with the deal he made with you.”

“And?” He leans forward, all attentive now that we’re talking about the Staszek family.

“And he informed me that he was cutting Lena from his estate. She’ll inherit nothing once the marriage takes place. The deals he made with you for territory and all that stays the same, but she’ll get nothing, which means I’ll get nothing when he passes.”

“It’s all going to the boys.” Roman nods. “It’s not unheard of. More traditional than most these days, but I suppose we can’t fight him on it.”

“He’s choking her out because of us,” I say plainly, not that he’ll give a shit. Why would he, the territory lines have moved, and he’s gotten what he wanted from this mess.

“She’ll have our name, and you’ll see that she’s taken care of.” He shoves out of my chair with a grunt. “Not too well, don’t waste your money on that Polish trash.”

I fist my hands in my pockets. Lena’s not trash. I may not know her well yet, but from what I’ve seen she’s anything but that. I tease her by calling her a princess, but it’s not completely a joke. So far she’s shown herself more regal than any actual royalty I’ve met.

Even after I tanned her ass last night, she didn’t come at me in a wild rage or throw a tantrum. She accepted her punishment, kept herself together, and took every swat to her ass with a grace I’d forgotten a woman could possess. The last girl I dated with any sort of regularity hadn’t lasted half a dozen swats before she lost her mind and started hitting at me and cussing me out. It wasn’t worth the fight-I’d let her leave and never called her again.

“What brings you here?” I change the topic. “Is something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “No, no, not at all. In fact, things are good, Micah. Real good.” He grins. “Now that we have the train depot at our full disposal, we can increase our transports. I’ve already discussed with our partners up in New York, and they say they can handle twice the load we move now.” His Russian accent thickens the more excited he gets about this venture.

“Twice?” I control my surprise. “The traffic was supposed to slow, not increase. Between the two clubs on the south side and this restaurant we’re making good profits. They give us an income stream that lets us focus on other things.” My office is secure, but there’s still cause for caution. Roman’s hand having been up the waitress’s skirt, for one.

“Yeah, of course, of course. These businesses help us hide. I understand. I do, Micah. But your brother built us a line of income that is never ending.” He makes his way to me, planting his heavy hands on my shoulders. “Igor built the traffic line from the ground up. It’s a solid business. No reason not to expand when it’s right there for the taking.” His eyes peer into me as his hands tighten around my shoulders.

“Igor did an amazing job, I know,” I agree. Igor did many great things for our family, for my father; his legacy should be more than the trafficking of stolen women.

“He was a strong man. He had visions for this family, for all of us.”

I’ve heard this lecture before. The great saint that was my brother.

“I have visions for this family, too.” I line my gaze with his. As the second son, I walked in Igor’s shadow-gladly-my entire life. But I’m not the second son anymore. I’m the only son.

He raises his eyebrow. “I know you do.” He pats my cheek. “And they are good ideas. Legitimize where we can. It’s a solid plan. One our lawyers I’m sure are thrilled to see coming to fruition. But the money isn’t in breadsticks and dance clubs. It’s where we’ve always made our best money. How do the Americans say… sex, drugs, and rock and roll? Well, maybe not so much the rock and roll, eh?” He laughs and pats my cheek again. I don’t recall him every patting Igor’s cheek like a little boy.

“Your brother was a smart man.” He points at me. “He knew when to move forward and when to back off.” His smile still clings to his lips, but there’s a warning there, underlining the words. Don’t push him.

“Doubling the traffic would put us in danger. The payroll would have to double along with it. They can only turn the other cheek for so much.” I appeal to the bottom line. The law enforcement that we’ve been able to hook to protect us won’t take breadcrumbs anymore if my father expands too quickly.

“Eh, we’ll work it out. Even if we do double the security payroll, we’ll still make more in the long run. This is a good thing, Micah. Be happy for us.”

“It’s good news.” I nod along with him because it’s what he wants. And Roman Ivanov won’t leave until he gets what he wants.

“Excellent.” He grabs his coat from the back of a chair. Even when it’s sunny and humid outside, the man carries his coat with him. An old habit, I think, of when he used it to smuggle for his old boss.

“One more thing,” he says as he stops at the door. “The wedding will be this Saturday at my house. I expect you and that girl to be there Friday night for a celebration dinner.”

We’d already discussed the ceremony being held at his place, but the dinner Friday night is new.

“Of course.” There’s no reason to disagree.

“The Staszeks won’t be there, but I’m gracious enough to allow them at the ceremony.” He frowns.

“Do you need me to do anything-for the expansion?” I offer before he decides I’m against him. Disagreeing with him is one thing; openly disapproving is something altogether different, and more dangerous.

“No, not right now. The hunters will increase their catches next month. We might need some readjusting then.” He opens the door. “I’ll see you Friday.”

I nod. “Yes. We’ll be there.”

With fucking bells on.