𝑇𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑃ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑥 ✔︎ || 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑑

32

~ ilya ~

Phoenix caught up with me ten minutes later in the front room, where I sat with Chevneshesky and Lubradov.

She peered into the room, throwing my phone at me. I caught it, raising a brow in question.

"Girl talk," she said, dismissively before disappearing back into the hall.

With a shake of my head, I returned to the conversation at present.

Lubradov was a very important man to the Bratva. Being the main government connection, he ensured that Russian law did not interfere with my business and in return, accepted a hefty reward. Things had been very messy in the 90s, when the police had a habit of disrupting my father's trades. Sometimes, our men were killed, but often, it was theirs who ended up in the morgue. 2001 was particularly problematic, when Russia hadn't been so safe for Viktor and my father. They sought refuge in Poland — perhaps, it was then, that they created the blood contract between our mafias.

That year, I met Lubradov, who offered his services for a large, but agreeable sum. How could I refuse?

The old man sat, one leg crossed over the other, as he inhaled our tobacco from his cigar. He blew a cloud of smoke over his white hair, before clearing his throat.

"Вы очень затрудняете мою работу, Иванов," he muttered, staring out of the glass windows. [You are making my job very difficult, Ivanov]

Chevneshesky leaned back, smoking his own cigarette and watched our exchange warily.

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Было ли когда-нибудь легко, Любрадов?" [Was it ever easy, Lubradov?]

The man suddenly snapped his head in my direction, glaring. "Раньше мне тоже не приходилось иметь дело с американцами. Они хотят твою голову." [Before I did not have to deal with the Americans. They want your head.]

"Это позор," I retorted, indignantly. [What a shame]

I didn't care that the American FBI were after my trade. I had no business with them to begin with, except that $10 billion money laundering scheme from last decade.

"У них есть достаточно доказательств, чтобы—" [They have sufficient evidence to—]

"К чему?" I demanded, rising to my feet. "Что они могут сделать со мной здесь, в России?" [To what? What can they do to me here in Russia?]

I strolled to the window, swirling my whiskey as Lubradov argued behind me.

"Лавров—" [Lavrov—]

I interrupted him again, this time with impatience. "Госсекретарь - это ваша проблема, а не моя. Вашей зарплаты не хватает?" [The Secretary of State is your problem, not mine. Do I not pay you enough?]

Lubradov quietened.

I spun to face him once more, staring the man down. "Я попрошу своих людей сопроводить вас обратно в Петербург," I grunted, taking a swig of the drink. "Но помни, Любрадов, тебе есть что терять, как и мне."
[I will have my men escort you back to Petersburg. But remember, Lubradov, you have as much to lose as I do]

He nodded, respectfully, rising to his feet.

After he left, I turned to Chevneshesky.

"Вы замаскировали IP-адрес?" I questioned, taking a seat once more. [Have you masked the IP address yet?]