Page 15 of Forced By the Bratva Beast

I look down at my pad doing my best not to crack, but nausea is hitting me like a ton of bricks. “Only a hit-and-run? Given your history with the Bardi gang, I would have thought you would have bigger charges,” Dr. Perri pitches.

“Nah,” Pavo says, shaking his head. “Political and police ties. I’ve provided valuable information over the years to law enforcement.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, it is,” Pavo quips, cracking his knuckles.

“Are there any other reasons the Bardi Gang declined?”

“Sure, there’s plenty. One of them being the Russians.”

“Oh, the Russians. When did this begin?”

“After my first stint in prison in ’98. They came out of nowhere. It was bizarre, to be honest.”

“Okay, so who would you say the power players in Chicago organized crime are?”

“Again, the Russians. Especially after they got hold of the Omerta Files from Luca. That was the beginning of the end.”

“The Omerta Files?” Dr. Perri asks as I keep listening.

“Yeah. Serious information on all the gangs, Mafia outfits, the political players. It’s like the little black book of crime syndicates. Names, photos, files, embezzlements, pictures, evidence galore. It’s a big deal, and now the Russians are almost unstoppable because of it.”

“Can we clarify which Russian outfit? There’s a few known in the city, also New York too. Do you have a name?”

“Yes. The Bratva—The Utkins. They’re the ones. The Untouchables,” Pavo provides, a glint of fear skipping through his pupils.

“Thank you so much, Pavo. I’ll bring the guard in. I appreciate you speaking with us today.”

“No problem. I don’t think I did much, but hey, if it’s helpful for your little paper then good,” Pavo says, his large bulk rising. Dr. Perri stands and shakes his hand as she opens the door, the guard waiting on the outside.

“Are you done?” he asks.

“Sure am,” Dr. Perri replies quickly, shutting the door and turning to me. I can’t believe what I just heard. The Utkins. Fiona’s husband Ruslan Utkin. Shit. Shit. Shit. Fiona told me he was involved in many things, and from what I understood,they were legitimate companies, not covers for Mafia-affiliated activities.

Shaken to my core for many reasons, I gulp hard as Dr. Perri stares at me for a moment. “Do you need a glass of water?”

“Umm… yeah. I just… wow. That was fascinating,” I tell her, recovering. I don’t want her thinking I can’t handle criminal interviews, and I can. But just thinking about Ruslan being the Utkin who’s at the top of the criminal underworld is crazy.

“That’s nothing, Sophia. We’re only just scratching the surface. I barely got into the details with him. He’s up for appeal, and we’ve already spoken once before.”

“Oh really?”

“Yep. This is my second visit to Pavo. On the first visit he divulged much more, but he’s clammed up a little. These Omerta Files have everyone shaken up somehow. I’ve never seen such a change, but what he’s saying is correct. The Utkins are controlling many aspects in Chicago right now.”

“Yeah, it’s piquing my curiosity about the Utkins,” I confess succinctly, not wanting to get into the nitty-gritty as to why.

“I can imagine it is. You’ll get to meet the next one. Sit tight.” Nervously, I read over my notes, wondering which one it will be. Please tell me it’s not Ruslan. Maybe he’s not involved, and it has nothing to do with him. Innocent until proven guilty? But if he does have someone in the family tree that’s part of the Bratva, then surely, Fiona would be aware.

My mind ticks over and back to the wedding. The groomsmen, but I wasn’t paying attention at the time. I was still caught up in the fact Fiona had gotten married so quickly.

While collecting my thoughts, Dr. Perri’s phone buzzes. “Shoot! He knows I’m interviewing. What’s going on? I’m going to have to put him on speaker. Here, Sophia, can you hold this?” Dr. Perri fumbles around with the papers and notes in her hand giving it over to me. I manage to hold on to the stockpile of items she shifts into my hands.

“Okay, I’ve got it.” I’m a research assistant after all, and this is a chance to showcase all my talents.

“I’m rushing Marcy to the hospital. She’s puffed up like a fish and she can barely breathe. It’s bad this time. So bad. How quick can you get to Memorial Hospital?”

“What?” Dr. Perri shrieks, her cell phone jumping in her hand. “I knew I shouldn’t have sent her on that excursion. The teacher didn’t even look like she was taking me seriously when I told her.”

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