Page 7 of Entangled Mafia Princess

After giving her a hug, I head out of the restroom and out a door marked exit. Once outside in the chilly night air, I breathe a sigh of relief. I have a change of clothes in my car. Now my real birthday party can begin.

Chapter three

Kai

“Heard the American Navy seized your shipment to Yemen last fall,” says Charlie Lee as he, sitting opposite me, leans back in the lounge chair at The Lotus, an exclusive club catering to members of the Jing San Triad.

I don’t like the tone in Charlie’s voice, though it’s hard to tell the sneer through the Australian accent. Charlie’s visiting from Sydney, where he runs narcotics.

“That’s old news,” I reply as I watch Charlie light a cigarette.

“Still, my condolences on your loss. I heard it included thousands of Chinese Type 56 assault rifles and hundreds of heavy machine guns.”

“And sniper rifles,” I add nonchalantly.

Charlie exhales a stream of smoke. “Must’ve been a blow. Lucky it wasn’t as bad as the loss that forced your old man into retirement.”

I feel a muscle along my jaw tighten. At least he referred to my adoptive father as my old man. Unlike Charlie, I wasn’t born a Lee. I got my current name, Lee Kai Fan, from my parents after they adopted me. I had initially tried to rob the couple and probably would have had the shit beat out of me if it hadn’t been for my adoptive mother intervening. They had a daughter, but under China’s one-child policy at the time, they couldn’t try for a son.

“Maybe you should consider moving over to narcotics,” Charlie suggests. “You’d make eight, nine figures easy—ten if you’re as good as me.”

I watch as Charlie looks around for an ashtray. “I’m good. I’ve got other projects in the works.”

“Yeah? Is that why Andrian Plotnikov was here? You’re not thinking to partner with him, are you?”

“Why not?”

Charlie frowns as he realizes there’s no ashtray in sight.

“Smoking isn’t allowed in public places here in San Francisco,” I inform him.

“Fuck me dead. The world’s going to shit. Can you believe the Kiwis are going smoke-free? Now people want Australia to follow in their footsteps.”

“More opportunities for you then.”

Charlie is silent as he considers what I said. Reaching for an empty shot glass, he uses it for an ashtray.

“Word is Andrian Plotnikov isn’t stable,” he says. “And why do you need a Russian anyway?”

“There are benefits to collaboration. It’s not new. The triad works with the Camorra in Italy.”

Charlie blows out another puff of smoke. “If you’re looking to impress the Vanguard, let me give you a piece of advice: don’t make decisions based on personal feelings.”

“Who said it was personal?”

“You and Andrian go way back, don’t you?”

Charlie isn’t wrong. After a few thugs in Blagovenshenck jumped me when I was eleven years old, Andrian had approached me with a proposition: I would procure the goods in Heihe and Andrian would help sell them and provide protection on the Russian side. Our partnership lasted several years and we kept in touch even after I moved to California.

“Which is why I can trust him,” I reply as I glance at a text that just came in. One of my men has located Casey Callaghan.

“In our line of business, you can’t really trust anyone, mate.”

I rise to leave. “Thanks for the advice. I’ve got some for you, too: quit smoking. It’s bad for your health.”

*****

From my seat in the back of the Escalade, I watch as Casey, wearing a glittery tiara, emerges from the back of the bar and run over to her car, where her bodyguard is napping. When they leave, my driver follows them to the SOMA District, eventually pulling over when they park in front of a warehouse that had yet to be converted into an art gallery, office for the latest high-tech startup, or trendy restaurant.

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