by Peyton Banks
Kole took his hand in a firm grip. Pasha and Mila favored each other. One could instantly tell that they were related. Pasha’s eyes were dark and intense as he took Kole in, studying him.
“Thank you for having me,” he said, looking around the group.
“Please, have a seat.” Pasha motioned to the chair across from him. Denis stood behind him as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and took his seat. He knew that his bodyguard wouldn’t be leaving his side. Pasha and his two men sat down as well. “Let me introduce my associates. These are my captains, Mila Petrovna, Boris Rokossovsky, and Yulian Nazarov.”
Kole murmured a greeting to them, his eyes lingering on the beautiful siren who returned his nod. She had yet to say anything, but her eyes didn’t miss a thing. She glanced behind him at Denis, as if sizing him up. She may be a badass, but Denis would definitely give her a run for her money. Denis was an ex-Navy Seal who was more than capable of taking care of himself.
“The head of my security, Denis Miklos,” Kole announced, motioning to his guard.
“Let’s just get to the point of the meeting. I’m a busy man, and I’m sure you are as well,” Pasha started, leaning back in his chair. Kole nodded, interested in what the Tokhan boss wanted to discuss with him. “I’ve had my eye on you and your organization.”
“Is that right?” Kole murmured. He wasn’t surprised that Pasha had been paying attention. His organization was making big moves in the city. Kole was proud of his brotherhood.
“Yes. I like the way you work. It is well known that the Belotov’s handle their business. Your shipping and receiving business is what really interests me. We are expanding our operations along the entire Eastern seaboard.”
“So, you want a partnership?” Kole interjected, his eyes narrowing on the man across the table from him. “Get to the point. What do you really want?”
His gut did a familiar flip, telling him that something was off. There was no way that Pasha would invite him out late in the night to try to strike up a business deal to make them partners.
“Pledge your allegiance to me,” Pasha demanded, his cold eyes locked on Kole. “You and your whole organization, pledge allegiance to the Tokhan Bratva.”
“Never,” Kole growled without hesitation.
He should have known that Pasha would want Kole to submit to him. He had a reputation of breaking the strongest of men. The Tokhan didn’t come into power by being soft. Kole knew that the Petrovna’s were cold, ruthless men who would stop at nothing to get what they wanted.
Well, Kole Bozovic wasn’t a bitch of a man who would just roll over.
He could feel Denis shift behind him. The motion was done on purpose to reassure Kole that his guard was still there. But Kole wasn’t worried.
“You could be made into our organization,” Pasha continued, as if Kole hadn’t already turned him down. “I’ll give you rank, and you can still run your business.”
“Fuck no,” Kole repeated forcefully. Pasha tried to ignore him, and Kole wouldn’t stand for it. There was no way in hell he would kiss the ring of another man.
A dangerous glint appeared in the Pasha’s eyes. Kole was sure the same look was in his eyes as well as he glared back at the man across from him.
“You wouldn’t want me as an enemy, Mr. Bozovic,” Pasha warned in a low voice.
“Is that a threat?” Kole snapped, shifting forward in his seat. He wanted to make sure that Pasha could see his eyes. He wasn’t a bitch, and wouldn’t be threatened. He could care less that they were in Pasha’s establishment. He wouldn’t be disrespected like a common punk.
The tension in the air became so thick, it could be sliced with a knife. His eyes didn’t waiver from the mafia boss. Kole was not a man to be intimidated. He didn’t get to where he was by cowering to opponents.
A tense silence filled the air as the music abruptly stopped. Out of the corner of his eye, Kole could see the DJ, bartender, and waitress being escorted from the balcony.
His fingers itched to pull his weapon from his holster hidden beneath his jacket. But in doing so, it would be a direct declaration of war and the battle would start on this night.
“Now, boys, this isn’t a dick measuring contest.” Mila’s accented voice broke the silence. “Mr. Bozovic, can I interest you in a drink?” she asked, standing from the table.
Hell the fuck yeah, he thought to himself. He needed a drink.
He nodded, finally breaking the stare down with her brother. She motioned for him to follow her, so he stood from the table, shooting off a glare to Pasha before he moved to her side.
“Let me show you the finest spirits collection that is kept for my brother and his special guests.” She led the way around the pool and toward the abandoned bar.
As he followed her, his eyes traveling down to her leather encased ass and held back a growl. He knew he wanted her. He couldn’t, nor would he, deny it.
She turned to him as she walked behind the bar and smiled. Her eyes narrowed on him, as if she was aware of the path of his thoughts.
“See anything you like?” she asked with her perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised.
His eyes took her in from her place behind the bar. He couldn’t have heard her right.
“Excuse me?” he asked.
“The alcohol.” She pointed at the selection behind her. “Do you see anything you like?” she repeated.
Oh, he did, and the object of his desires was waiting on an answer from him. Mila Petrovna would be his. Come hell or high water, the mafia mistress would be his.
“Which vodka would you recommend?” he inquired in a low voice. He glanced behind him and took in his men spread out around the private section.
He could care less about the others. He turned back to her and watched the pulse at the base of her neck speed up. She was affected by him too.
Good.
“Here.” She reached for a glass bottle from the top shelf. It was a flashy bottle that Kole didn’t recognize. “This is one of my favorites, imported from the motherland.”
He was captivated by her accent and the way she poured his drink in a short clean glass, just how he liked his vodka.
He reached for the glass as she handed it to him. Their fingers brushed, and Kole felt the jolt of electricity between them.
Yes. She would be his.
“Is this where you and your brother play good gangster, bad gangster?” he asked with the glass paused against his lips. She smiled and leaned forward against the countertop toward him.
“This is no game, Mr. Bozovic,” she murmured. She knocked back her shot of the clear liquid and sat her glass down. “There’s nothing good about either of us. Especially me.”
“Is that so?” His eyes locked on hers and he couldn’t look away. Slowly, everyone else on the balcony seemed to disappear.
She smirked and shrugged her tattoo covered shoulder.
“What could be so bad about joining the Tokhan family? You would still run your business, and wouldn’t have to worry about the organization. We would take care of you.”
“That’s a very nice gesture, but as I just told your brother, the answer is no.” He was done with this conversation. He pushed off the counter and turned to walk away. He paused and glanced back at her. “Thanks for the drink.”
He signaled for his men. A Bozovic didn’t bow down to no one. He nodded to Pasha as he left the balcony. There was nothing else left to be said to the head of the Tokhan Bratva. This wouldn’t be the last they saw of him, especially Mila. She would definitely see him again. He would make sure of it.
Chapter 5
She stood next to her brother in front of their car as they waited for the private jet carrying their father to taxi down the runway.
Mila could literally feel the waves of anger pulsate around her brother. She knew that he was still pissed about the outcome of the meeting with Kole.
Pasha wasn’t the type of man to give up on something when his mind was made up. He always got what he w
anted.
“After the event, we will turn up the heat on Kole Bozovic,” Pasha growled. She glanced over at him and chuckled because she knew her brother well.
“Yes, big brother,” she murmured as her eyes turned back to the slowing jet.
The private airfield was more secure than if the President of the United States had just touched down in Air Force One. The arrival of Salagin Petrovna, the pakhan of the Tokhan Bratva of the motherland, was a big fucking deal. It was rare that their father stepped foot in America. The elder pakhan had entrusted her brother and cousin to run it. But this charity ball was the mecca of all events. This was the one time all crime lords came together. Every two years, the event was held in a different country with a different focus. Of course the charity was a front, but this allowed a gathering of the most wicked organized crime leaders.
The jet finally came to a halt. Mila’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing her father. She last saw him a few months ago. Her father was pushing seventy, and did not use modern technology, such as Facetime or Skype. He believed in the old-world way of communication. No matter how many times she and Pasha had pushed for it, the elder pakhan refused.
Business would run much easier, but their father didn’t trust technology. Anyone could tap in on private conversations, so every few months, they would travel home to meet with their him.
The airport staff rushed to the jet and assisted with the opening of the plane’s door, and Pasha signaled for the guards to move in.
She followed behind her brother as he made his way to the plane. As her heels clicked against the pavement, a smile graced her lips as the familiar gray hair of her father appeared in the doorway of the jet. He was a distinguished man of sixty-nine, but didn’t look a day over fifty. He nodded to her brother first as he made his way down the staircase. Her father was an older version of Pasha. It was like looking at Pasha in the next thirty years. A few men appeared behind him, but Mila only had eyes for her father.
Salagin reached the bottom of the stairs and engulfed Pasha into a manly embrace. Each of them smiled and patted the other on the back as they greeted each other in their native language.
Salagin released Pasha and his eyes crinkled in the corners as they met Mila’s. A grin broke out on her face as she brushed past her brother and flew into her father’s open arms.
“Papa,” she murmured, breathing in his familiar cologne as his strong arms surrounded her. The Petrovna’s may be a fierce family that brought fear into the hearts of many men, but they were a close-knit family. Mila wouldn’t hesitate to kill for any member of her family.
“Kotyonok,” her father murmured. Kitten. A nickname he had given her when she was a child. He’d always said that even though she was small, she would lash out with her little claws when she became angry. It didn’t matter now that she was older and a high-ranking member of the family’s organization, she would always be his kotyonok.
“How was the flight?” she asked, pulling back to look up at him.
“Long and tiring,” he replied as they began to walk toward the car. Pasha walked on the other side of their father, their security detail still surrounding them from a distance.
“Where is Mama?” she asked, noting the absence of the matriarch of the family.
“Since this trip is for business only, she decided not to come, and for the love of all that is holy, please call her, both of you. I am tired of her complaining that I must be the favorite parent and that you two forget about her.”
“Yes, Father,” they both murmured as they reached the car. Guilt filled her as she thought of her mother. She had been extremely busy, but that was no excuse, so she made a mental note to call her soon.
“I’m sure you’re hungry,” Pasha noted as they arrived at the waiting car. The driver stood ready with the door open.
“I’m not going to that club of yours,” Salagin warned as he held out his hand to her, allowing her to enter the vehicle first. She slid into the luxury car and sat across from where her brother and father would sit. Her father slid into the car effortlessly and moved to the other side as her brother settled in. The door was shut, cutting them off from the world around them.
“Of course not,” Pasha assured the older pakhan. “We have reservations at your favorite restaurant. I figured we would feed you before going back to the house.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Salagin nodded.
Only the three of them would ride in the car. The others would follow behind them and escort them to their destination.
“When will Nikolai arrive in the city?” her father asked, instantly getting down to business as the car began to move.
Mila glanced out the window to see the tight security detail surround the car as it drove through the airport. Pleased, she turned back to the conversation.
Nikolai, her cousin, ran the Tokhan organization that was based in Atlanta. It would be good to see her cousin again.
“He is scheduled to arrive tomorrow,” Pasha replied.
“Good.” Her father nodded. “We need to have a family meeting before the party to discuss organization business.”
“So he invited you to his establishment to discuss the Belotov’s submitting to the Tokhans?” Kole’s father, Mirko Bozovic, asked in disbelief. “He has balls, that Pasha Petrovna.”
“Big fucking balls,” Kole grunted as he poured them both a generous amount of bourbon.
He turned and walked across the family room of his plush home. Even though Mirko Bozovic was no longer the head of the Belotov’s, he still acted as an advisor to Kole. He was one of the only men that Kole trusted wholeheartedly. Kole had to give it to his father, retirement did look good on him. The retired mafia boss settled on the couch with his dark tan, from his most recent vacation.
“Pasha is like a pit bull. He’s not going to give up, but he’ll bite down harder until he gets what he wants.”
Kole handed his father his glass and settled into the leather recliner next to the couch. He pushed back in the chair, causing the legs of the recliner to come up. After ten hours in the office, he was tired and just needed to relax. A drink, television, and a conversation with his father was the perfect way to end the day.
“You’re not telling me anything that I don’t already know,” he insisted before taking a sip of his drink. The brown liquid burned slightly as it trailed down his throat.
“What are you going to do?” his father questioned as Kole turned the television on.
“Push back.”
He flipped through the channels until the news caught his eye. The newscasters were speaking of the upcoming charity function. He paused to hear what they were speaking of.
“Tomorrow night, the Chateau Hotel will be hosting one of the most sought-after functions. Tickets are all sold out,” the newswoman said.
“It’s for a worthy cause. At ten thousand dollars a plate, they’re going to raise a lot of money. The world’s wealthiest businessmen will be in attendance,” the older gentleman on the television screen said.
“Exciting times. The event two years ago in Toronto raised over a million dollars for sickle cell research,” the newswoman added.
“Wow! That’s a lot of money. What’s the cause this time?”
“Juvenile diabetes research—”
“You’re still going?” Kole’s father’s voice broke through his thoughts.
Kole was set to attend the event. He had received his invite, and it included a plus one. He would be taking Meghan Bennet with him, who was a close friend. No benefits. They had attended college together. He could always count on her to be his plus one to formal functions, and he in turn returned the favor to her when she was in need of a plus one.
Meg was the executive lawyer for a Fortune 500 banking corporation located in the heart of New York City. Occasionally, she would consult for Kole and his business. They had never crossed the friendship line, both comfortable in the friend zone. She was truthfully the only female that Kole wou
ld label as a friend.
“Yes,” he murmured, taking the last gulp of his drink.
Mila Petrovna’s face flashed before his eyes. He knew that her family would be present at the charity function. His cock jumped at the thought of seeing her again. Even having Meg with him, if he decided to bounce with someone else, Meg would be cool with it. Hell, she might be leaving him with someone else.
He fully intended to make his intentions known to Mila. He knew that he affected her the same as she did him.
“Make sure you take enough men for security. My gut tells me that something will be going down,” Mirko grumbled.
“What do you mean?” Kole’s attention snapped to his father. One didn’t just profess to a bad feeling and not expand upon it.
“My gut’s telling me that something will go down. There are too many of our kind coming in for one event for nothing to happen. Promise me that you’ll watch your back,” his father demanded, with a serious look in his eyes.
Kole nodded while making a mental note to speak to Denis about this father’s gut feeling. Kole would not take his father’s warning lightly. His father didn’t get to where he was in life by ignoring his gut.
“Salagin Petrovna and Vladen Jaksch will both be at the party. The Tokhan and the Slokavich Bratva in the same room? Something is bound to happen,” his father warned.
Kole knew that his father was right. The rivalry between the Tokhan Bratva and the Slokavich Bratva dated back to their beginnings. Both organizations were formed outside of Moscow, Russian. If there were two organizations that hated each other the most, it was those two. Back in the days of the founders, the war between the rivals grew bloody. Everyone who was somebody in the crime world knew of the rivalry between the two.
His father may be retired, but he was still sharp and knew what he was talking about. Kole reached for his phone. He needed to speak to Denis immediately to prepare for the event.
Chapter 6