Page 51 of Baby for the Bratva

I rub my chin. “That would explain the hurry, but why go through all that effort in the first place? Why bother with a condom if she was just going to kill him?”

“Maybe he suggested it,” Akim says, squinting his eyes through the smoke.

I snap my fingers. “Akim, you sharp motherfucker. I think you’re right. Chekhov is all about playing it safe, and he would’ve been willing to delay gratification to go back to his room for a condom.”

“That’s reasonable. Can’t afford to be getting random women pregnant when you’re in the Bratva,” Akim replies.

His words hit a little too close to home. I’ve been too reckless lately, and it’s becoming difficult to ignore. I need to dial things back, reel in the risk and take the losses that come with being more careful. Otherwise, I’m likely to blow everything up in my face.

“Okay,” I say, tapping the ash off the end of my cigar. It falls onto the dusty surface of the table, retaining its perfect cylindrical shape. “Chekhov meets some girl, not by coincidence, but he thinks that’s the case. She wants to take him down, for whatever reason. So, she invites him outside to have sex by the water, he rushes back to his room for protection, and when he returns, she pushes him into the ocean.”

Akim nods. “Sounds right.”

“But he should’ve known he’d be late for his meeting. Do you think he forgot?” I ask.

“That would be unlike him. Maybe he thought he could fuck her and still be on time. That’s why he went to his room in such a hurry.”

I hold up my finger. “Right. That sounds correct. I hate how easily that happened, though. One mistake, and you’re done.”

“It’s brutal. This shit is fucked up.”

I nod in agreement. “But it’s avoidable. We’re laying down some new rules going forward. No fraternizing with anyone. Make sure everyone knows about this rule and they keep each other accountable. We can’t afford for this to happen again.”

Akim’s eyebrows come together in a serious scowl as he nods. “Affirmative. I will keep the men in check.”

“Great, and make sure that they know there’s danger. Whoever is behind this isn’t specifically after me. Anyone could be the next target,” I say, puffing harder on my cigar. “Even you, so keep your eyes open. Trust nobody.”

“What about the woman?”

“Don’t kill her. Capture her for questioning if she’s located,” I reply.

His eyes drift down to the table, and a moment of uncomfortable silence falls over us. “Um, not that woman. The other one. Stella is her name, right?”

“She’s fine,” I grunt, waving my hand as heat rises to my face. “Don’t worry about her.”

“We’ve done a background check, or…?”

I know he means well, but what he’s implying is sending my blood pressure to the moon. I pull the cigar from my mouth, nearly crushing it in my hand as I shake the ash off the end. “I’ll get her ID and you can run a check when we reach Jamaica. Until then, she’ll be in my room under Dima’s guard if I’m not there with her.”

“Okay,” Akim replies, keeping it short. He knows Stella is a touchy subject for me.

I shouldn’t even have her around me, but she’s so addicting that I’d lose my mind if I let her go so quickly. It’s going to hurt when it’s finally time to say goodbye, but I’m going to draw it out a little longer.

Our schedule has changed now that someone is stirring up trouble, but that doesn’t mean it’s over. We still have to get rid of our massive cocaine cargo on the ship or we’re all going to be doing life sentences in some dingy Brazilian prison.

“We need to get in touch with Javell,” I say, pivoting to the next topic at hand. “He’s expecting a decent shipment, but we’ll try to dump something a bit larger on him. The fewer ports we hit before we run out of drugs, the better.”

“I figured you’d want to offload a little quicker,” Akim says, his posture straightening a bit. There’s still a light at the end of this tunnel, and we’re going to reach it even if it means cutting some corners and making a few bad deals. It’s better than a total loss.

“If Javell doesn’t want more, I’m sure someone else will. I’d like to dump it as soon as possible, at a discount if that’s required,” I explain.

Akim shifts in his chair, his mood lightening. I can see it in his eyes. “So, we’re bailing out of this?”

“Not fully, but we’re not going to be on this boat for a whole month. It’ll be two weeks, tops,” I reply. “We still stand to make a profit, even at such a deep discount, but we also have to deal with the Brazilian bounty issue.”

“I heard about that,” he says. “Do we have a plan?”

“It’s usually easier to pay off the authorities, but I’m not sure how much they’re going to want if they set the bounty so high. Certainly not just a million. It’ll probably be closer to ten million, if not more.”

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