The Russian Fighter (Mafia Men #1)

Under Pressure

Chapter 16

Edited

Vitaly parked the car in front of the club, lights and jarring music beating in the air. Getting out he rounded the car, opened my door, and lead me to the front of the line marked by a velvet rope.

The Bouncer, spotting Vitaly, unlocked the chain and waved us, throwing a warning over his shoulder. "Korol' zhdet. Vash otets rasstroyen." The King is waiting. Your father is unhinged.

Vitaly nodded curtly. "Derzhite glaza otkrytymi dlya moyego kuzena. On skoro pribudet." Keep your eyes open for my cousin. He will be arriving soon.

"Always, boss."

Vitaly opened the thick steeled door, and pressed me to enter first. The long, red carpet hall lead down to another red iron door where two men in suits flanked it. Both acquired semiautomatics around their shoulders, strung by a belt.

One parted to open the door, speaking into his earpiece tracing the posterior of his large ear. "Pust' korol' uznayet, chto oni pribyli." Let the King know they arrived.

Vitaly lifted up his sleeve to reveal a large skull with a snake passing through. Taking one look, the second guard scanned the ink with a device I had no idea what is was. It made a few sounds. Satisfied the men let us in. Immediate music grew as we stepped inside, thousands of bodies rocking out to the beat.

I clung to Vitaly, grasping his shirt sleeve. He looked down at me for a second, but then continued on, intermingling our fingers so we wouldn't lose each other in the crowd. I was glad he applied as an anchor, guiding me.

At the end he snuck us inside a alcove that went deep into another room. It was different. A octave cage surrounded in white, leather training mats occupied with two shirtless men dancing around, dodging bandaged fists, and swift kicks to the body. Lots of people were standing around cheering for one side. Beers toasted in the air the bartender provided, whom seemed amused by the amount of sloppy drinkers.

"Where are you taking me?" I bothered to inquire.

"My father," he responded shortly.

We stopped in front of another red rope. Konstantin was there, leaning against the wall of a pair of stairs sloping down, hovering like a dark cloud in all black and a red tie, wound lazily around his collard shirt. He held a cigarette in his mouth, blowing a O shaped puff of smoke in the dense atmosphere.

"It's about time." He let down the rope to let us pass, placing it back. "Boris is furious."

"She wasn't acquire. Maksim and his brothers interfered."

Konstantin sighed taking the front, walking us down into a private office. He shoved the doors open. "Found her, Boss."

"Moi glaza."

Vitaly and Konstantin stepped out of the way.

Behind a lengthy desk sat the Mafia King, himself, with a cigar in his mouth. He looked like a true mobster with only a white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and trousers crossed one shoe over the other on the surface of the desk.

As I walked in I glanced at the leather white futons and gasped. "Mama? Papa." I went to hug them, but Konstantin jammed a 9mm in my face faster than I was able to blink a eye.