Russian Mobster’s Revenge (7 page)

***

Ivan parked his car in front of Yuri’s laundromat. He couldn’t help but notice that Sergei’s car was parked there as well. Perhaps Sergei had come to complain about Ivan. That would make Ivan’s day.

Getting out of the car, Ivan swaggered through the front door of the laundromat. He winked at the young woman working the counter. She blushed and looked down at the stack of dry clean tickets she was organizing. Olga hadn’t been in the US long, but her English was getting better.

“Did the cat get your tongue, Olga?” he asked. He’d been working with her on her American slang. So far she was a pretty quick study.

“No, I just didn’t want to stroke your ego and give you a big head,” she replied with a grin.

“Nice!” Ivan said approvingly. “Is the boss in?”

“He’s with Sergei.” She made a face. “He’s in a bad mood.”

“He’s usually in a bad mood lately.” Ivan started walking back. “I’ll just wait back here.”

“Uh-huh.” She pointed at him with one long red fingernail. “I wasn’t born yesterday. I know what you’re up to.”

“Another good one,” Ivan told her. “You’re going to start beating me at this game before long.”

She made a noncommittal noise and went back to her stack of tickets. Ivan went through the curtain that separated the part of the store with washer and dryer units from the dry cleaning operation. Before he’d gone ten feet he could already hear Sergei’s whining.

“What do you mean you won’t sanction him?” Sergei said. “The man is sleeping with my sister! You and I have all but agreed upon a marriage between Emily and your youngest son! This is as much of an insult to you as it is to me.”

“Your sister is a grown woman.” Yuri sounded annoyed. Ivan slowed his walk, not wanting to burst in on the conversation and lose the opportunity of hearing more. “I’m quite certain if she’s sleeping with Ivan Dedov, she’s a willing participant. If Emily wants to come in here and complain that Ivan is taking advantage of her, I’ll reconsider my position. But really, Sergei…” Yuri’s pause said everything his words did not. “And the marriage plans between my son and your sister are hardly fixed. In fact, sometimes I believe you are the only one who will nag until that happens.”

“Ivan Dedov is ruining my business.” Now Sergei sounded curt. “You know he’s doing it on purpose. And I know he gave a tip to the FBI about my dealers. I’m out ten guys, Yuri. How am I supposed to do business without manpower?”

“If your men were worth a damn, they would not have been so easy to nab,” Yuri retorted. “Sergei, I know that you are determined to become a leading earner in the drug trade, but it’s time you understand that Ivan is too good for us to choose you over him when it comes to these petty wars you are determined to fight.”

“Too good,” Sergei scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

There was another pregnant pause. Ivan deduced that this was a good time to make his appearance known. He strode into Yuri’s office with a smile. “Good morning, Yuri. Good morning, Sergei.”

“How dare you speak to me?” Sergei snarled. “After everything that you’ve done? I cannot believe you would show your face around here.”

“When you say what I’ve done, are you talking about the fact that my monthly sales were three times what yours have been during your best season?” Ivan couldn’t help but gloat a little bit.

“You slept with my sister!”

Ivan cocked his head to one side. “You know, I’m not going to deny this. But I am wondering how you know such a thing? Did your sister call you to tell you about it?”

Sergei muttered something ugly in Russian and then stormed out of the office. He shoved past Ivan and barked a comment to Olga about fetching his jacket. When he had finally gone, Ivan smiled lazily at Yuri and folded his hands in front of him to await the comment that was obviously hovering on the edge of the boss’s lips.

“Ivan,” Yuri began with an indulgent yet reproachful smile. “You cannot keep baiting him like this.”

“Pardon?” Ivan frowned. “My very existence on this planet pisses him off. Sergei Volkov has felt himself above me since I joined the organization. What am I supposed to do? Grovel at his feet until he can grow a set of balls and stop whining like a baby?”

“Ivan,” Yuri’s tone took on a warning note. “You need to be respectful. Sergei might think a little too much of himself, but he’s a hereditary made man. He is a member of our organization in good standing. That earns him respect no matter how weirdly possessive he is about his sister.”

“About his sister,” Ivan scoffed. “If I were the exact same man I am now, but I was
your
son, he would be throwing his sister at me. His hatred of me has nothing to do with his sister’s health or welfare. It’s because he feels himself above me.”

“Regardless,” Yuri said with a wave of his hand. “You will stop antagonizing him, or you will have me to answer to.”

Ivan’s very existence on the earth was defined by antagonizing Sergei. If Yuri put a moratorium on the activity, Ivan’s plan would be against Yuri’s express orders.

“But Yuri, he’s insufferable. Surely you can see that,” Ivan pleaded. “Do not tell me that I must bow and scrape to that man.”

“He is a made man within this organization.” The force of authority in Yuri’s voice didn’t stifle Ivan’s feelings on the subject. If anything, it inflamed them. Yuri pointed at Ivan. “You will respect him because of his rank. Otherwise, you need not be a part of our organization.”

“But I’m twice the earner that he is,” Ivan argued. “Why not give me his position? It isn’t as though he needs it to run his real-estate business. The man does well on the legal side of things and cannot operate his illegal holdings for shit.”

“Enough!” Yuri curled his lip at Ivan. “Sergei might not have as lucrative a drug trade as you do, but he is still ranked higher than you ever will be. We do not promote street dealers to the level of made man simply because they know how to push their product. That is your job, Ivan. Appreciate that you have that position and be satisfied with the important place you occupy within the organization. Anything more would be an exercise in futility.”

Ivan stared at Yuri’s wizened narrow face for the span of several moments before giving his boss a slow nod. “I can see that I’ve irritated you, sir,” Ivan said in Russian. “I meant no offense. Please allow me to leave you to your work unless you needed me for another purpose.”

“No.” Yuri imperiously waved his hand. “That was my purpose in calling you down here.”

Ivan ducked his head respectfully. “Thank you, sir.”

Yuri didn’t even look up when Ivan took his leave. Anger made every muscle in Ivan’s arms stand out in stark relief. He didn’t speak to Olga on his way out. He was far too angry to speak to anyone.

Chapter Nine

Ivan barely made it home without blowing up. He pounded the steering wheel a few times, cursed in every language he knew, and tried to imagine why Yuri would say such a thing to him. Was Yuri part of the same school of thought as Sergei? Why did these men put themselves so far above Ivan’s humble beginnings? Yes, Ivan was a bastard. He was an orphan. But Yuri Gregorevich had begun life in a Moscow slum. Did he really have room to talk?

His parking job was abominably crooked. He didn’t care. Ivan slammed the car door and stalked across the garage toward the elevator. By the time he reached it, he barely noticed that he was sharing it. At least not until he caught the familiar scent of vanilla and spice.

“I’m not even going to ask,” Emily murmured, stepping to the opposite side of the elevator.

Ivan started to mutter something rude, and then thought better of it. “Why does it matter so much who a man’s father was?” he demanded. “Can you answer me this question? Because I have been fighting this battle my whole life and I still have no answers.”

Emily’s eyes went wide, her face settling into a careful mask as she obviously sifted through her brain for the right answer.

“I’m not going to throttle you for telling me something I don’t want to hear.” He managed to calm his voice enough that he was no longer growling at her like a beast with a thorn in its paw.

“I suppose you might look at it from the perspective that the organization is all based on heredity,” Emily began in a philosophical manner. “These men have always worked with each other. They have raised their offspring in this tradition. Their trust is dependent upon this bond.” She gave a delicate shrug of one shoulder. “It doesn’t mean that men born to other families aren’t capable of being worthy of the same level of trust. It just means the men in the organization aren’t in the habit of taking chances.”

“Well that nonsense breeds stupidity,” Ivan grunted. He folded his arms, feeling disgusted.

Emily stared at the lighted indicator that told him they were currently passing the fourteenth floor. Finally the doors opened. Emily raised an eyebrow at him.

“I was born here in the US,” Ivan told her suddenly.

She looked at him in surprise. “You speak Russian like a native.”

“My mother was a Russian immigrant.” He headed out of the elevator slowly, trying to recall as much detail as possible. “She died when I was seven, but I had already learned to speak Russian before English. Her English was terrible.”

“And your father?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted.

Emily cocked her head to one side. “And that is why you hate my brother? Because he knows who his father is, was claimed by him, and gained his current position simply because he was following in Papa’s footsteps?”

“No,” he argued. “I hate your brother because he thinks all of that makes him better than me.”

Ivan turned and walked away from her. He knew it was childish, but he needed a moment to collect himself. He rarely talked about his past like this. It made him feel insecure and that pissed him off.

But Emily would not be put off. She trotted along behind him. “Did my brother tell you this makes him better than you?”

“Isn’t that why he cannot stand the idea of you and I being together?” Ivan asked, surprised she would not immediately recall that fact.

“I think that’s more about nobody being good enough for a Volkov. That is his pride, yes, but it has little to do with your origins, I think.”

“You think?” he asked incredulously. “How can you believe otherwise? Look at everything he has said, and his behavior? Surely you can see the truth of what I’m saying?”

They were standing in the hallway outside his office. Her expression was troubled. Could she truly not know this basic fact about her own brother? He saw her shift her hold on the bag slung over her shoulder.

“Enough about this.” He sliced his hand through the air, feeling almost savagely irritated. “Let me show you the list of tasks you need to finish today.”

“Does this list include cleaning your bathrooms and fetching coffee?” she muttered. “Because that’s pretty much the only thing there is to do around here.”

“I can probably find some toilet brushes for you to use,” he began sarcastically. “Unless you’d like to drop the attitude and actually accomplish some real work.”

***

Emily could not get a handle on Ivan’s moods. He swung wildly from one extreme to another with almost no warning. It was only ten fifteen in the morning, but she could swear the man had been drinking. At least that would account for all the maudlin talk and then an immediate swing to anger and sarcasm.

She sighed. “Ivan. I’ve looked at your books. You don’t need an assistant. Whoever has been taking care of that job is doing it very well. Things are caught up, and they’re clearly laid out. No manager could ever want better.”

“I’ve been doing them myself,” he growled. “I don’t have time for that shit anymore.”

“Whoa.” She raised her brows, impressed as hell. “You’ve been keeping your own books?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he snapped. “I’m not an idiot. I can handle crunching some numbers and writing things down.”

“I wasn’t trying to say that you couldn’t.” Emily almost rolled her eyes. She was so tired of having to soothe his ruffled feathers when she had actually been trying to be nice to him. “I was saying that most businessmen have a tough time doing those things and therefore hire people like me to get it done. You’re a very unique man. It was a compliment. Can you just accept it?”

He looked so surprised that for a moment he didn’t appear pissed off. Then he frowned even harder. Emily grunted. It was a disgusting noise, but she felt disgusted at the moment.

He gestured to his office. “Let’s talk about your tasks.”

“Fine.”

The way he glanced at her suggested he wasn’t so thrilled with the rude tone of her voice, but she was past caring at the moment. She walked right into his office and took a seat in the executive chair before his desk. Since there was only one chair like it in the well-appointed office, it was obviously his. Emily didn’t care. He was the one who decided to play at having an assistant.

Ivan settled for looming over her in lieu of sitting down. “See this list?” He pointed to a piece of paper with handwritten addresses on it. “These are my arcades.”

“All right?”

“So each business is set up like an umbrella. Both legal and illegal income wind up in the same pot. They’re just labeled differently.” He showed her an entry on the computer screen. “See how it works?”

“Yes,” she mused. “It’s actually quite brilliant.”

There was a pause. She refused to look up at him, but she could feel the heat of his gaze staring down at her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She tried to keep her mouth shut, but couldn’t manage it. “See? It wasn’t that hard to be polite.”

“Do I actually go out and collect the payments?” She looked at the screen. It was obvious that cash drops were made almost daily.

“No. Jacob will bring them to you. Then you count them and make the deposit.” He seemed relieved. “That takes me forever. It’s a huge waste of my time.”

“I can see why.” She began scrolling through the files on-screen and matching them to the handwritten list. “There are at least thirty arcades here.”

“Arcades are surprisingly lucrative.” He seemed defensive.