Page 44 of A Pawn in the Game
Ivan continues, “He brought them yesterday, saying Leon okayed it.”
“And you believed him?”
“No, but I checked with Leon, and he was telling the truth. Look, man,” he lifts his hands, “it’s not my battle to fight.”
He’s right, I know. It’s not his fault we can’t get rid of our stupid as shit uncle. “Fuck,” I murmur. Leon insisted we had no choice but to let him make some decisions. Trick him into believing like he’s actually contributing. I might as well have guessed I will be the one paying for it. “Where are they from? Are they even legal?” Bile rises in my throat.
“Yeah, I checked their IDs. The youngest one is 21.”
I release a relieved breath. “I need you to look into that. The IDs could be fake.” I’m already on my way out the door when he nods in response.
“And where are you going?”
“I got shit to do. None of your business.” I lift my middle finger as a greeting, making him smirk.
He gets on my nerves sometimes, but other than Leon, he’s the person I trust the most.
I lied to him, though. I have no more work to do tonight, but being in the club lately has been too painful. Biting the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood, I step into my apartment; the dogs rushing to greet me.
Both of them jump on me, begging for me to pet them. Mybad mood retreats to the back of my mind as I watch the two rascals overjoyed by seeing me. Grabbing a quick shower, I make myself comfortable on my king-size bed and they follow right behind. Typically, they’re not allowed on the bed, but their presence as they cuddle next to me soothes me, lulling me to sleep.
The next few days, work fills each waking minute. I put out fires left and right, but the more I do, the more fires the Russians start. They’ve threatened our distributors to the point of scaring some of them off, which is terrible for business.
I answer Leon’s call as I’m walking out of the club at two am.
“We need to send more men to Russ,” he says as I flick my lighter and light my cigarette.
Ben Russell, or Russ as we call him, is our major distributor of arms. The Russians have been threatening him, and we’ve already sent a few people for protection. Now he’s asking for more. I take a long pull of smoke before answering, “We’ve already sent him three. Should I go act as his personal chaperone?”
“I know. But he said he wants protection, or he’s out.”
I exhale a cloud of smoke. “I have no one else to send.”
“What about Ivan?”
“Yeah, and who will take care of things while I’m not here?” I don’t tell him I spend practically no time at the club. Just five-minute visits in the middle of the night. Like tonight.
“You have Uncle’s men there.” I huff, but he continues. “Look, I know it’s not ideal. But Toma is a loose cannon. We can’t send his men to these… sensitive jobs.” I can practically hear him rubbing the bridge of his nose, like he typically does when he’s stressed. “But we can let them play around your little club.”
“I think you’re forgetting who we’re keeping in my little club.”
“I’m not. I’m sure you can threaten them not to hurt her.”
“Any news on that front?”
“As far as we’re aware, Landers is working with the Russians to help them destroy us. He probably struck a deal to set his daughter free.”
“Fucking moron.”
“I guess he was used to loyalty.”
We both stay silent for a second, my thoughts racing to my father. If Landers expects the Russians to be anything like him, he’s in for a horrible surprise.
“You think it’s time to call the Italians?” I ask.
“No,” he responds, in a flat tone. “We can handle it.”
I know what he means. We separated our business from the Italians with a lot of blood, sweat, and tears. We have an unspoken deal with each other. We don’t touch them, and they don’t touch us. But if we were to ask for their help, they’d surely use the opportunity to get us back under their thumb.
