Page 28 of Pregnant Bratva Virgin

“Skimming? You mean off the top of the card games? Like what already happens in my card games?”

“Precisely, but at a much higher level. You would need to pay for a few croupiers under the table to help, but boy would it pay out big and get you in that Bratva boss’s seat quicker. Isn’t that what the Pakhan is looking for? Together, we can take over,” Paul pitches, a spark in his eyes, but I’m wary about what his motives are, and know I might be stepping into a minefield, given the other Mafia affiliations he’s connected to.

I think carefully about what I’m about to say before I say it. “Yeah. I’ve got a targeted amount to bring in, and then there’sa meeting.” I loathe all the red tape in the Bratva, and the rules have always lain somewhere in the gray area, not favoring me. The Pakhan always has his favorite, but the brotherhood stands.

The thing is, I’m close enough to taste the victory, and I’ll do whatever I need to in order to claim that Bratva boss seat.Then,the Bratva will crown me the underworld king of Chicago, running nightclubs, bars, the streets, and expanding into casinos. I did think I didn’t want to be entrepreneurial like my cousins, but this is different. I’m still the Russian king of Chicago’s streets. And once the Bratva stand up and take notice, the extra privileges will come and I’ll be granted access to the bigger deals, the ones that will gain me more power, instead of sitting on the outside.

“Stick to the streets, Ryurik, that’s your domain,”Dimitri said the last time I saw him at the family gathering, clapping me on the back with pity, which is ironic given his own father disgraced his bloodline and he fought for decades to claw his way back to redemption. I might have laughed it off at the time, but my hand had twitched, wanting to punch him in the face.

If they think I’m going to be their little street bitch forever, they’re mistaken.

I tap my fingers on the boardroom table, sizing Paul up. “And what does your syndicate want out of this?”

Paul nods with a sheepish grin. “Good question. We would want a percentage, of course. I’m going to get you connected on the inside. We can pick out the staff to select. Hell, if you want to keep this thing airtight, you can select your own crew and we get them rushed through recruitment,” he tells me in high animation. The more he explains the details, the more I’m drawn in.

“This is interesting. If we skim from each casino’s takings and infiltrate that network, it’s a steady stream of income forme and the Bratva. It would need to be carefully planned out to work. It’s risky,” I say, placing my hands in the prayer position, my mind ticking over with the possibilities.

“Yep. Now you’re beginning to see the vision. And that’s not going to be a problem for the likes of you. You already have your street network grid on the ground; think about it.”

Slowly, I nod. “Yeah, I do. Every part of Chicago is sectioned off in blocks already, and I have my men in place, and they have their own crews,” I explain to him.

“That’s what I’m saying!” Paul says as Viktor chuckles at his enthusiasm. Paul handing over stapled paperwork. “Here, look at the earnings from the MGM for last year. They made a fucking killing—a killing on the tables, and they’ve been busted for money laundering before. This isn’t new to them, but we’ve got our work cut out for us when it comes to competition.”

“How so?”

“Well, we need both firepower and men on the ground—in the casino—to make this work. We would have to take this to the brotherhood. That’s where I see you coming in, Ryurik. Mainly in the way of ammunition, security networks, and political connections. We’re going to need that. Boston Mafia outfits have been going after Vegas for years, but their pockets aren’t as deep as you Russians. They can’t quite hit the mark without having to shut down every few years.”

The light bulb is on, and I understand why Paul wants to do business with the Bratva, and given the scale of the operation, despite my own tug-of-war with certain family members, I’m inclined to agree with him. “Sure. It would be a slow system to start… building.” I flip the pages looking at the numbers we would pull if the plan falls into place.

“See?” Paul grins as my eyes widen at the astronomical number he’s written.

“Are these numbers skewed? Are you fucking with me, Paul?”

He shakes his head vehemently. “No, sir. They’re not skewed. Those are the numbers, and they’re loosely correct. When I think it over, they might even be a little off—less than. It’s not counting one or two of the other Vegas tables we manage. I didn’t add them in because they’re small-fry.”

Paul’s smile is stretched wide enough for me to think his face is about to fall off. It’s a grand offer, but I’m not stupid. Presenting this venture to the Bratva is going to be a task, but when I look at the numbers, silently, I believe it’s a risk worth taking.

Breezing my hand through my hair, I keep staring at the numbers. It will put me in the same financial bracket as Dimitri if we pull it off. He formed his own outside networks to pull off Raven’s Peak, but if I do this, I’m going to be lying in bed with a pack of snakes, and the risk of a double cross is high.

“Can you guarantee a peace treaty from day one with your associates? With this kind of money on the table, and if we expand this operation with our men, then this number could triple. We could put a stranglehold on the entire market.”

Paul interlocks his hands together. “I thought you might say that, and yeah, there’s a lot of moving parts to this deal, so I understand your hesitation. Think it over, and we can work through every roadblock together. We can start by hitting one casino. One by one, and once we establish the groundwork, we work on the next one. Right?” he explains smooth like butter.

“Yes. One by one, but you still need to address my concerns.”

“I’m hearing ya. And we can make sure there’s some sort of arrangement in place, but there would need to be a significant bargaining chip in order for it to work out.”

My mind runs when I think about how we can make it work in the Bratva’s favor. This isn’t one I’m going to be able to sort out alone. “No problem. Give me some time and we can work out a plan.”

“Good. Good.” Paul relaxes, his extended smile retracting some as my mind drifts to Emily. I’ve got her held captive back at the house, unsure of what’s next for us. I can’t let her go. She’s mine, and she’s carrying a Bratva child that’s coming into a world of craziness. I have to decide what that’s going to look like.

“Paul, do you have kids?” I ask, breaking up the dark mass of crowded thoughts in my head.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got three,” he remarks dismissively as I study him. His bloodlust for business and taking over conglomerates doesn’t give me the impression he’s present with them, but I can’t be sure. I’ve never been a father and don’t know what that role looks like.

Fatherhood has always been a “someday” thing for me. Someday I’ll have kids, and I can think about that then. Now. Without warning I’m having a child with a woman who challenges me to my core and likely hates the fuck out of me. That part I don’t care about. She can hate me all she wants, but she can’t carry an Utkin, and it not be a part of the Bratva.

That’s a disgrace of the worst kind. “Three. And this is the legacy you’re leaving for them?” I ask.

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