Page 110 of The Dark Side

Gil was his brother, and his loyalties weren't up for debate.

Now, Adrik needed to test this rumor. If it proved false, he'd buy Gil a nice gift for Christmas as a way of an apology. He knew exactly what the guy wanted: his own private plane. Gil had wanted to be a pilot for the Air Force when they were younger. He wanted to 'drop bombs.' But none of them could do what they wanted with their lives. So, Gil would be happy with his own charter.

But if Adrik was right, he was still determining how he would react.

They pulled to the hotel entrance, and the valet hustled to the car, greeting him by name. "Your wife is on the roof."

Adrik buttoned his jacket, the black fabric tight around his muscles. It was a hot late September night. Living here for ten years made him expect nothing else. He walked into the hotel and was instantly bombarded by the front desk secretary, who handed Alexei the code to the elevator to access the private rooftop. He was overdressed, as he always was. It was a way to stand out from the regular drug pins, traffickers, and the like. They never took much time in their appearance because there was no one to impress, but power doesn't come from any outside force; it comes from within, like an ooze. It's why people felt inferior in his presence. It's why drug pins and traffickers struggled to keep their people in line. They are seen as equals and not as less than they were. It's what makes the Mafia different. Mafia people knew they were better and ensured everyone knew it.

They stepped out of the elevator. Gil was on his left, and Alexei was on his right as Adrik walked onto the pool deck. Katia's guards stiffened and made no sound till he questioned where his wife was. With hesitation and fear, one pointed behind him.

In the center of the dance floor, his wife and girlfriend were dancing in their bathing suits with a bunch of hungry-looking drunks reaching and touching wherever they could.

Adrik clenched his teeth, feeling a burst of madness. He pinned his eyes on Katia because, unlike Jolie, she knew better than to make a fool of herself in front of vendors. And there were plenty here.

One by one, people stopped what they were doing. Some shifted away out of fear, hoping not to get in his eyesight. Then the DJ cut the music and the lights.

"What?" Jolie spun around. "What happened?"

Katia saw him first. The panic on her face brought a low level of satisfaction. At least she knew what she had done wrong. She swayed, catching Jolie. "Adrik. Adrik," she nipped, trying to turn Jolie around.

Jolie blinked, “Adrik?” She snapped her head this way and that before she dumbly grinned. "Hey!"

Katia grabbed her before she could greet him inappropriately in public. She quickly whispered in her ear something that sobered Jolie enough that her smile fell. Katia and Jolie, with their arms entwined, used each other as support as they stumbled and swayed. It was duel looks of childish guilt as they stared down at their bare feet.

"Adrik," Katia greeted with a fake smile. "What a surprise. We weren't expecting you."

Jolie slapped a hand to her mouth suddenly, to the concern of everyone watching. Her eyes were wide.

Katia whispered, "No, no, no, not here."

And then Jolie bent over and threw up right in front of Adrik's feet. The throw-up splashed, and all the pretzels, chips, and nachos decorated the pavement.

Jolie straightened as she rubbed her mouth. "I feel better."

"Good," Katia whimpered. "Let's get you cleaned up." She glanced nervously at Adrik, but he said nothing as they moved around him to the elevator.

Adrik eyed the onlookers, finding three of his own among the crowd. They nodded in greeting, and he looked past them. With a nudge toward the DJ, the musician quickly started the music again and got the lights going. Adrik walked over and started a conversation with one of the distributors, attempting to save himself from the humiliation the girls caused. Two of them had been invited to his ridiculous birthday party. No doubt word would get back to Yakov.

An hour later, with enough damage control, Adrik was in the elevator with Gil and Alexei.

"Go easy on them," Alexei murmured.

"Katia knows better," Adrik bit. His fists were at his sides.

Their suite was easy to find; it was the only one with a guard standing outside. Upon Adrik's approach, the guard quickly swiped a card and pushed open the door for him. He paid no attention to the extravagance. The large living room, the kitchen equipped with a waiting chef, and the dual hallways spreading to opposite sides of the floor to the bedrooms were common to his lifestyle. He bulldozed toward the only bedroom with a light on and burst into the room. Katia snapped her head toward him, putting a finger to her lips. She was helping Jolie to bed, her hair wet from a shower, her clothes on the floor, and the smell of vomit unmistakable.

Katia pulled the blanket over her and shut off the light. He left and went into the living room to wait. Alexei dismissed the chef and double-checked the rest of the suite to make sure there was no one else.

Katia was slow to approach, wearing a white bathrobe with her wet hair over her shoulder.

Adrik wanted to hear her excuse, forcing the silence between them before she finally caved.

"We were having fun," she defended pathetically.

"At my expense."

"Of course, it's about you. Everything everyone does is all about you."

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