Page 70 of Maxim

“It feels like someone is fucking with us. First, the fire and the stolen shipment, which I still can’t trace. Now this, plus there’s a new product flooding the streets that’s dangerous as all fuck.”

“What product?” I frown. This is the first he’s mentioned it.

“I got some calls last night from our guys on the street. Someone’s been distributing a new synthetic cannabinoid drug in our name. They’re calling it ghost chili because it causes numbness and seizures.”

My hands grip the steering wheel and it creaks. “Fuck, this is not what we need. If users don’t trust our product, it’s bad for business.” I turn down the street toward Natalya’s apartment, trying to control my temper.

“Quite. I’m on it though.”

“Good, make sure you get me some fucking answers,” I snap. “Any other shit I need to be aware of?”

There’s a long pause and I tap my fingers impatiently while waiting for a traffic light to turn green. The buildings in this part of the city are well past their best. There’s litter everywhere, vagrants hanging around with their piles of junk and skinny dogs. One or two stores are still open, but the whole area reeks of poverty.

It’s not somewhere my malyshka should be living. She’s not safe here, even with a state-of-the-art alarm system.

“Yeah.” I don’t like the careful way he says such an innocuous word.

“Spit it out, Sasha, I’m nearly at Natalya’s place.”

“Zaria.”

I go still, not noticing that the light has flipped to green until some asshole steps on their horn behind me.

“What about Zaria?” Ten years ago, my father made a loose arrangement with Zoltan Milosovic, the leader of a rival mafia family. In return for some assistance dealing with a little problem, I would marry Zaria when she came of age.

I was 16 at the time and Zaria was barely a toddler. Honestly, I haven’t thought of the girl in years. My father was assassinated and I took over the Bratva.

Milosovic got caught up in a corruption scandal a few years later and was arrested on organized crime charges. As far as I knew, he was down and out, his daughter in the wind, and not my problem.

She has to be around 18 or so now, no longer a kid, but we’ve never met. I have no clue what she looks like. Or anything about her.

“Milosovic is out of prison. The judge from the original trial was assassinated along with several key witnesses. His lawyer launched an appeal and the conviction was overturned due to a lack of evidence. He was at the gala on Friday night, not looking very well, it has to be said. Expected to see you and was very disappointed you couldn’t make it. He says he expects you to honor the deal your father made with him now Zaria is of age.”

I snort. “Fuck that.”

“Max, you can’t just dismiss him. If you brush this off, he’ll seek allies elsewhere, most likely Uriov. The guy looks seriously unwell and he’s probably desperate.”

“I can’t deal with this right now, Sasha. We’ll talk later.”

I end the call just as I pull into the cracked concrete parking lot outside Natalya’s apartment building. Some old guy wearing a black wool coat, even though it’s in the high 60s, gives me some side-eye. I ignore him.

There’s a low-level buzz in my head from all the shit I’m dealing with. An ache settles deep in my skull. I know Sasha is all over this like a harbor shark, but ultimately, I’m responsible. And besides, he can’t fix the Zaria issue.

That one’s on me.

My fucking father. He was ruthless. Every decision he made was for the Bratva. My happiness meant nothing to him. Nothing at all. My sister was lucky he died before she came of age, or he would have married her off to the highest bidder without shedding a tear.

Lucky for Vanya, I was in charge by the time she reached 16 and she had the freedom to live her life the way she wanted. Which is why she’s now settled far, far away with a husband she loves and the freedom she always craved.

Unlike me, who will never escape the responsibilities that come from being born into the Bratva.

The heavy weight of being Pakhan fell on me the day my father was killed. All the men in our Bratva now look to me for instruction. If I fuck up, we all lose, and if I make poor decisions, it won’t be long before some upstart comes along and challenges me.

My money is on Uriov being behind all this but we have no proof.

If that slippery fucker thinks he can get away with fucking with me he can think again. I will fucking end him.

And as for Zaria…

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