He’d been in the country for nearly twenty years. He could speak decent English, but noticed that people were more intimidated when he used a Russian accent. So he continued to lean into his accent.
The guys laughed.
Making fun of each other’s size was one of the ways they motivated each other to hit the gym and push through each agonizing set. Marcus was a beast when it came to working out.
Caden tried to look tough by pretending he wasn’t dying when Marcus kept adding weights to his machines.
Ace, on the other hand, retaliated by removing random weights from Marcus’s bar every time he tried to use the bench press station. Have you ever tried lifting a bar when one side was missing half the weight? Gravity can be a bitch.
Blade, the lazy-ass, just told Marcus to go fuck himself whenever he approached his weights.
And Nikolai… well, Marcus just found it easier to verbally tease the guy than to try to manipulate him into working out harder. Russians didn’t take kindly to people fucking around with their shit.
“So, are we ready for tonight?” Marcus asked as he flopped into the only armchair in the hotel room. The other guys hopped onto the bed, fluffing Nikolai’s pillows and making themselves comfortable.
Idiots.
“Hope you know I rubbed my junk on those pillows while I was jerking off before you guys got here,” Nikolai informed Caden and Blade.
Both of them looked at each other, horrified. They grabbed the pillows from behind their heads and threw them both across the room.
Nikolai chuckled. He was totally lying.
“I thought I smelled musky man-whore,” Blade huffed, staring at his hands like he was contemplating cutting them off and burning them.
“You’re one to talk,” Nikolai responded.
“Not anymore. This dick has been claimed,” Blade answered, just as a growl emerged from the other side of the room.
“You mention anything about boning my brother, and I’ll take out my gun and shoot you in the face,” Marcus warned through clenched teeth.
Ace was Blade’s fiancé, and also Marcus’s younger brother… well, stepbrother, but Marcus never liked to make that distinction. As far as he was concerned, Ace was as true a blood brother as one could get.
“Again with the violence. How are we supposed to become marriage-brothers when you keep threatening me with murderand dismemberment?” Blade asked, placing his hand behind his head and staring up at the ceiling.
“Easy, I’ll set up a memorial in your name behind the bar. ‘Here lies the biggest douche who ever thought it was smart to stick his dick in my brother. May his face one day find its nose in the afterlife.’”
Blade looked over at Marcus. “Man, you’re dark.”
“You’re the one trying to cozy up to me,” Marcus grumbled.
Blade rolled his eyes at his boss and soon-to-be brother-in-law.
Nikolai wondered how long it would take before Blade got shot in the face. Eventually, he would say something stupid to piss Marcus off, andoops… accidents happen.
“Okay, now that Blade is done wasting all of our time,” Marcus started, scratching his balls, before diving into the night's plan.
The plan was simple. They were going to meet the leader of the Double Aces crew so that Marcus could lay out his business proposal. Hopefully, if everything went well, they would all leave the club with their heads bullet-free.
3
NIKOLAI
The club the Double Aces crew had chosen was located in West Hollywood, a predominantly gay area, but also an area known for its classy trends and expensive venues. It was a venue where the crew knew they would be taken seriously.
Once they arrived, the hostess escorted them to the VIP section, which was separated by a purple velvet rope and guarded by two bouncers at the entrance.
“Welcome!” the leader of the Double Aces greeted, standing up from the couch and stepping past one of the two women sitting on either side of him. “I’m Dominic Baas, the head of this crew. I’m so glad you could make it—welcome. Come. Sit.” He gestured for Marcus and the guys to take a seat on any of the several couches throughout the VIP section.
