Page 4 of Bound to the Bratva
Maxim
"If you don't get your fucking shit together, I will make sure your useless ass doesn't suck up any more oxygen!" I scream into the phone while reading emails and writing down some notes.
I don't understand why people are so fucking idiotic these days. It's like they can't grasp or complete the simplest of tasks. I'm not asking for a lot here. All I'm asking is for them to do their fucking jobs.
I'm starting to think it's just New Yorkers, but my sister assures me this isn't the case. I've been in New York for three months, helping my sister manage one of our father's largest corporate office buildings.
He's the head of the Bratva and owns many companies in the United States, but the office building I'm at currently is for his largest, a company called LifeMed. Not only is it a pharmaceutical company. It's also a medical and dental insurance company as well, which branches out under another one of his many LLCs.
"Sir, with all due respect, if you had been in my position for as long as I have, you'd understand the limitations." All I hear is more bullshit from him. I continue jotting down some notes, scrolling through emails from my staff members.
I've determined that Alan is nothing more than a pathetic bitch. He's the kind of man who wants you to accept the fact he's lazy as fuck. I'm not doing that, and I never will.
There is nothing more that I can't stand than someone who wants to make you feel sorry for them. No. He could be getting answers, but the problem is he doesn't man the fuck up and do it.
"I've been here for three months and can see how you're not thinking outside of the box. You should be getting these answers, ensuring these results, but what are you doing? You’re a lazy fuck who sits around twiddling your thumbs up that ass of yours!"
"I'm over here telling everyone who doubts you to give you a fucking shot! No one at the company respects you. All they think is that you're some egotistical bastard who doesn't know jack shit about anything. We don't have any clue how you were named CEO."
At some point during his speech, I manage to break off the tip of my pen. Ink begins oozing out of the pen and onto the paper I've been writing on, completely obscuring all of my notes.
There are two ways I can handle this. I can simply fire him, or I can reveal to Alan why I got the job so easily.
"Alan, tell me something, do you know who I am?"
He scoffs on the other end of the line, "Obviously. You're the CEO of the company, Maxim Anikin."
I chuckle, ready to light his world on fire. "You're partially right. I'm Maxin Anikin-Volkolv, the son of Ruslan Volkolv. Not only am I his son, I was the CEO of a similar company he owns in Russia, which means I have over ten years of experience pulling companies like this from death's doorstep. If people like you would listen to what I'm fucking saying, you'd realize I'm trying to save your jobs."
Alan doesn't say another fucking word. Typical.
I clear my throat and continue, "I'm feeling like there's an immediate need to make some cuts for the betterment of the company. Alan, pack your fucking shit and get out of here within the hour." I'm doing my best to keep anger out of my voice, even if it's incredibly hard to do so.
At that exact moment, my sister sneaks into my office and shuts the door behind her.
I slam my phone down and look up at her with frustration. Even though my emotions aren't directed toward her, she knows better than dig too deep right now.
Vera has her straight blonde hair perfectly positioned as always, not a strand out of place. When American women think of Russian women who intimidate them, Vera is the woman they're thinking of.
She's strong like our father and has a resilient demeanor about her like our father. She might only be twenty-six, but her intelligence is beyond her years.
"Do I even want to know?" She takes a seat in one of the two armchairs across from my desk.
"Nothing much to tell. I fired a problem employee who has immense difficulty following the chain of command."
"So, you're talking about Alan."
I raise my brows, "Yeah. Has he been a problem for you?"
Vera cackles, "Oh, yeah. He's a miserable piece of shit who wants to get paid but never does his damn job. I knew as soon as Dad sent you out here you'd want to fire him. So, how'd he manage to last three months?"
For being a smart woman that doesn't mean she isn't immature. She plays games like this. Games I'm not too fond of.
"I never go into a company and fire someone. Our employees rely on their jobs, and I do my best to ensure they have a steady paycheck so their families can still have a roof over their heads," Vera easily forgets there are people in this world who struggle with finances. People who are about to get kicked out of their homes if they can't come up with quick cash.
She nods and leans back in the armchair. "I understand, but you need to stop being so soft with people. Alan hasn't had good production or followed up on things we've needed him to for months. He should've been one of the first ones you terminated, not the fifteenth."
I see what she's saying, although I do try to give everyone a chance, even if they don't deserve it.
