Vassili
“Mikhail is at the house, Vassil. Zariah is fine, Natasha is fine.” Yuri attempts to catch my eye as he tugs on my arm. We’re walking through the lobby of the hotel. He’s stumbling with his cane. There are streams of water, designed throughout the area. I have to give it to my cousin, for keeping up.
My passport and wallet are in my back pocket. The rest of the shit is nonconsequential. I’m on my way to the airport. I don’t give a fuck if the next flight to Los Angeles is filled and I have to hand over my entire wallet to someone for their seat, or if there are layovers in every country on the way.
I’m going home.
Past regrets flood through my mind as I sidestep tourist. “I won’t be home tonight… Probably not tomorrow night or the next.”
I was a dick when telling Zariah that very statement after Igor’s death.
Then Zariah is in my ear, exclaiming, “Okay, but only if you promise to step up to the plate. What do I have to do, get you to pinkie swear, sign a fucking contract! What’s gonna get you to put our children first, Vassili! Huh? We have a life here, you tell me you went home. Fuck you and your damn home, Vassili, this needs to be home. You go away to fight in Australia in three weeks, I swear if you runoff before then, I will find you, and drag your ass home. So do you want to see the ultrasound, that’s your gesture to me that you plan to take care of home.”
When the image of her crying for me fades, I’m out in front of the valet, preparing to ask one of these running fuckers to get me a taxi.
“Vassili, listen to me,” Yuri grips at my collar.
My left hook snakes out, and I stop myself a fraction of a second before knocking my cousin into next week. I breath heavy. He grips the back of my neck.
“If you fucking leave, you stupid mudak, you will miss Natasha and Zariah. They are headed here in a few hours, do you understand?” His words are paced for my comprehension.
Did he already say this? Feels like he might have already mentioned something about them catching another flight.
“I don’t want them riding alone.”
“Mik-hail, my big motherfucking brat is with them, Va-ssil-iiiii!”
I rub the back of my neck in thought. “He’s gonna—”
“Fly with them and come to the match tomorrow. They’ll all be here by the time you wake up.”
I start to tug at my mohawk, and recall that its gone. I rub a hand over my buzz cut, and nod. “Okay.”
“Okay, okay? Kazen, are we good?” He gestures toward both of our eyes.
“Khorosho!” I shout.
He takes my hand, I snatch it away.
“Shit, I thought I’d have to guide you like my little god babies. I was gonna lead you back to your room, tuck you in like a little piz’da, the works, brat.”
“How will they arrive by the time we wake up, Yuri?” I ask. “The flight they missed would’ve arrived at that time.”
“Just shut the fuck up and thank God,” he replies.
***
All night long, I toss and turn in the hotel bed. My dreams transform from nightmares to even worse night-terrors about my mom. About me.
Finally, I sit up in bed. It’s early morning. “Fuck.”
My mind is racing like a bitch. How will I fight tonight? I should give up. Won’t be giving up, because I’ll do something with my lounge. The Red Door has the perfect manager. I’ll have the guy really show me the ropes this time, like Zariah suggested when I pulled Malich from my establishment. My wife and children are alive.
Time to be a family man….
I hear voices. What the hell is Yuri up to? In this large suite, his room is located on the opposite side of the living room. He’s been hitting the porno hard since that bitch, Taryn, stopped coming around. Yet there’s no moaning going on.
My eyes burn, and I stumble out of bed with a grunt. Mikhail? Is that him? My pace falters when I hear Zariah. They’re here in record time, has to be under twelve hours.
“Let him sleep,” I hear Yuri saying. “He has a fight later on.”
“Okay, we will get another room for the night.” This voice prickles goosebumps over my forearms. Danushka?
I finally make it around the bed, and open the door.
“Shit, I said ‘let him sleep’,” Yuri gripes.
Zariah is in my arms in seconds, hugging me tightly. I hold onto her, breathe her in, bestow a brutal kiss to her forehead while glancing down at my sleeping daughter, in her stroller. Then my gaze goes to Mikhail, a slimmer, ripped version of Yuri. The woman next to him is the only other person in the room. Her skin is the color of alabaster. Blonde hair almost as white. She cocks a smile at me.
“Moy mladshiy brat!”
Little brother? I don’t have any older sisters. Who is this bitch?
She reaches up and pats my cheek like Danushka use to… Danushka… I glance into her eyes. They’re pale blue. Her nose isn’t so big.
“I’m the prettiest thing you’ve ever laid eyes on, eh?” She punches me in the arm, her tiny hand is like a brick. Still very powerful. “Cost me a 2.5 mil for all the upgrades.”
Fucking bitch is just as dumb as her father—our father. She has gone under the knife.
“Alright, lets allow Vassili time to sleep.” Yuri places his hand on Danushka’s shoulder, but she doesn’t budge.
“Hug me, Vassili, I saved your wife and daughter. I deserve some respect, seeing that you hit the ground running a few days before I came into this world.”
It is her! Danushka was like a broken record, all the times she mentioned how she should’ve been Anatoly’s first born. I beat her to the punch by a few days.
Not feeling any emotion, whatsoever, I give her a hug.
She grins. “Thanks, brat. Zariah is still mad at me for my deception, although she’s great at being cordial. And I think if you give someone a ride on your private jet, it sort of tips the scales,” she says, winking at my wife. “You really saved my marriage, Zar. Although, you did a background check and everything, I’ll admit that I can be rather deceptive at times. But nothing I said was a lie. Horace is the reason I’m so pretty. I’d like for us to continue our friendship.”
“You had Igor murdered.” Zariah says.
Mikhail frowns harder.
“Oh, really?” Danushka scoffs. “Zariah, I said I’d play nice, and I’ll continue to say so, but don’t bring up bullshit.”
“What?” Yuri has changed his demeanor from being a manager to a distraught brother. He growls at my half-sister. “How?”
“I didn’t, I didn’t.” Danushka holds up a hand. She settles down into her chair, and doesn’t sit with a wide-legged stance. Fuck, she’s no longer the boy with a cunt between her legs. “My husband, Horace, owns Molotov Steel, an international manufacturing company. That little shit, Bertolucci, wanted to impose sanctions, even greater sanctions on Horace. He had to be put down. It was inevitable.”
My eyes narrow in thought. Horace Molotov is one of the richest men in the world. He holds a seat at the seven chairs—or whatever the fuck they call it.
Danushka wriggles her eyebrows. “I may have done the job myself, you know, shopping in Milan gets boring sometimes.” She offers her usual frown of disgust. “I left my Resnov card, like usual, because hey, one day, Anatoly has to notice me, right?”
I shake my head.
“The official’s family thinks they’re hot shit out there. Italian mobsters, my ass. Doesn’t matter now, right? Yuri, your friends showed those mudaks who’s boss.”
“How did they shoot up my father’s house!” Mikhail snaps.
“People talk, you know.” Danushka shrugs. “Malich left Anatoly. Makes people paranoid, you know. They think that Malich is going off on his own. Biding his time, taking the Resnov name.”
“My father could give a fuck about the bratva!” Yuri roars.
More of a slow to burn, in anger, Mikhail bites his fist. “So, our brother died for nothing?”
Both men are torn, eyes glossed with tears. I squeeze my own eyes closed so as not to get angry enough to cry.
“I would’ve attended the funeral, paid my respects.”
“Fuck your respect, Danny!” I shout.
“Dah? Fuck me? Well, let’s get to the point then. I have a proposition for you, Vassili. Seeing as I saved your wife, and your children.” She grunts. “Heck, side note, Grigor thought you were going to murder Anatoly when you went to Moscow last. He still feels bad for popping you in the back of the head, my little brother. Isn’t he the sweetest?”
I shrug. Grigor is her full-blooded brother. They share the same cunt of a mother. “What do you mean, Grigor thought I’d kill our father?”
“He went to pick you up at the airport. That ugly cousin of ours, hops into the car before Grigor can leave. Semion is loyal to Anatoly. I’m Grigor’s big sister, he’s loyalty resides with me. We would’ve corrected the Bertolucci family, but Yuri’s associates got to them first. That’s a promise.”
“Okay?” I cock a brow. This bitch continues to make intercession for her actions by mentioning how she just saved Zariah and Natasha. My face is blank as I mentally determine how crazy my sister is. “What the fuck do you want, Danushka?”
“She wants you to be the new king,” Zariah murmurs. To a round of applause from my psychotic little half-sister. My beautiful wife’s eyes are sunken in with lack of sleep. This has been a long night for everyone. The only person who is elated is Danushka.
“We are a name, big brother, we are the Resnovs.” Danushka grins. “Horace is one of the biggest investors for the Table of Seven. My husband has connections. And like Zar just said, the world needs a king. Resnov is the perfect brand. I will of course, be the true leader. People see pussy and run screaming.” She shrugs. “Men are afraid of women. We all know I’m more than competent.”
“You want to take down your father, right?” Zariah’s eyes latch onto mine. “He did things to your mother, very bad things to her, Vassili.”
My knees give out. I sink down before the rest of me decides it has a fuck to give. My head is down, I knead the back of my neck.
“You can kill him, or I can, Vassili,” Danushka offers. “Horace is a billionaire, but we can all be richer. You’ll continue to fight. You attend a few meetings at the Table of Seven every once in a while. On most occasions, I’ll appear in your stead.”
Zariah goes to her knees before me, placing herself between my legs. She caresses my cheek, and kisses my mouth. Her lips taste good, her mouth is sweet. Fuck, I was so afraid yesterday. I don’t even have a moment to realize that I now know what fear looks like—losing my wife and children—because I’m blown away by Danushka.
“You two are beautiful. But you don’t even know how to fuck yet. There’s no sex like sex when you’re made of money,” Danushka assures.
I stop listening to the madness. This bitch is out of her mind. Zariah’s tongue flicks against mine. My dick is hardening by the second. I want them all out of here, so I can screw my wife.
This must be a fucking dream…
Zariah nibbles my jawline, and up to my ear. Her tongue twines around.
“Fuck, I’m getting hot,” Danushka says.
My blood is boiling, but something tells me not to move away, not to shout, not to act in anger as usual. Let Zariah lead.
She sucks on my earlobe and whispers. “We’ll figure something out…”