We survey the place for an hour and all we see is the usual food supplier vans pulling up, all the men we know from their side walk in and out of the place casually carrying boxes labelled with food and ingredients. Everything seems to be as it should. It doesn’t feel like a set up, it doesn’t feel like they are preparing to fuck us over when we go for this meeting tomorrow, so why the hell can’t I shake this feeling that’s come back again that something is going to go wrong.
Lev is watching cautiously too but with nothing seeming out of the ordinary I look from the restaurant to Mikhail about to tell him to drive off when Lev speaks.
“There’s the littlepodonok.” My eyes snap from Mikhail’s in the rearview mirror to the front of the restaurant to see Nero rounding his car.
He’s got his sunglasses on, one hand in the pocket of his tailored suit, the other aiming his car keys over his shoulder. He presses a button and the lights flash on his over the top Mercedes to show he’s locked it.
He walks past the rest of the Italians and straight through the doors of the restaurant without even a second glance around him. Most of the other men watch him with disdain which puts me at ease that he hasn’t got them on board with some scheme to take us out tomorrow night. It doesn’t put my mind or that gut feeling that’s come back at rest however.
“Do you have the same feeling I have that he’s going to be a snarky bitch at tomorrow’s meeting?” Lev asks while I remain quiet, rubbing my jaw with my hand, trying to calculate in my head.
“I do, and I don’t like it.” I reply with my eyes locked on the front doors of the restaurant.
“I love it when you get like thismoy brat, it means I finally have a worthy opponent.” Lev says as he huffs out a laugh and breaks his concentration from the Italians to look at me.
From the corner of my eye I glance at him and he’s far more alert than when I first picked him up this morning, cracking his knuckles and itching for a release.
It’s been weeks since his last fight and I do feel bad about calling him and interrupting his morning so I give in.
“Fine.” I say before telling Mikhail to take us to the club.
Just as we pull away from the curb, we both look out the window and see Nero walking back out towards his car. He slows his strides and turns to face us fully as he notices our BMW. He stops abruptly before bringing his hand up to give us a two finger salute, even though he can’t see us through the blackedout windows he know’s it’s us, and he has the biggest fucking grin on his face like he knows something we don’t. He laughs as he continues his arrogant walk making me hate the fucker even more.
Mikhail takes the next left at the end of the road and we all sit silently before I finally speak.
“I really hope you’re ready for this beating Lev.”
————————————————————
“Aw c’mon boss go easy on the guy.” I hear one of my men shout. They all stand around various parts of the cage where Lev and I have went three, five minute rounds of brutal fighting so far, neither of us giving in to the other.
We stand apart from each other, sweat and blood dripping on the cage’s canvas from us both.
The underground fighting cage and spectator area we have under the club is as humid as you can imagine with the the amount of adrenaline, testosterone and body heat rising from not just Lev and I, but everyone who’s locked in on watching us, all waiting to see if they bet on the right Krylov family member.
Lev’s not an easy opponent which is why he’s our best and most popular fighter. The guy is hungover and probably only had an hour of sleep and can still take me on.
I’m six foot six and two hundred and fifty pounds. I have the extra muscle and a couple inches height and reach on him, but he’s just an animal. It’s like he was bred to be locked in a cage and come out victorious every time.
“Alright Lev, let's call it.” I wipe the sweat from my forehead with the back of my wrapped hands. As much as he is usually a beast, I’ve roughed him up big time today and I need him top of his game for tomorrow’s meeting.
“Nah Dragna, you can’t just call it quits.” He spits blood from his mouth onto the cage floor and beckons me to come forward to him with his bloodied hands.
“Come on, I know you’re fucked off about Nero, let’s keep going.” He’s right. I am fucked off about that sneaky little rat, but I feel a good bit better after going fifteen minutes non-stop with him and we also need to check the cameras to see if he’s right about this girls from last night and someone possibly drugging girls in our club.
“Leave itmoy brat, we need to check the cameras.” That brings him out of the bloodthirsty gaze he had on me.
“Fuck, that’s right.” He says as he shakes his head and slaps himself a few times on the face to bring himself fully back to reality.
It’s fascinating watching his brain switch from fight mode to remembering he’s an actual human again.
That’s why he’s so scary to most people. The fact girls don’t run in the other direction from him is beyond me, but then again he is the pretty boy who can turn on the charm as quickly as he can turn deadly, so maybe that’s why they flock to him.
We exit the cage and skip changing out of our shorts back into our suits and instead head straight for my office.
“If you’re right about this I want you and your choice of two of our men to hunt down whoever it was. I want them brought back to me alive though.” I tell him as we climb the stairs to the main club floor.
The club has two patron floors, the main one with a dance floor and DJ booth, then the upstairs balcony with private booths and a view of what’s going on below.
