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“It is not ideal,” Avgust agreed. “However, you have to admit that business has been better ever since Sartori got rid of Emil Schulz.”
A few years ago, Emil Schulz made the mistake of going after Nero Sartori’s wife, and to return the favor, Nero had wiped out the entire Schulz organization, giving us and the O’Briens pieces of their territory. Though divided up evenly, the Sartoris still controlled all the ports, and the O’Briens controlled the northern border and the airports. So, in order to benefit from either one, we had to pay a cut. Granted, things were a lot more civilized these days, but they were still the enemy at the end of it all.
Before I could say anything more, our waitress was back with a fresh round of drinks, and it was hard to miss the way that she was adding an extra bit of flair as she placed my new glass on the tabletop next to me.
“Mr. Barychev,” she cooed, her low-cut top pulled down enough to see that she wasn’t wearing a bra of any kind, which easily announced that her tits were fake. There was no way that breasts that large could be that perky if they’d been real.
Avgust let out a low chuckle, and I almost flipped him off. Once upon a time, he would have been in the same boat as me, but the man continuously made his devotion to his wife clear for anyone and everyone to see. If a woman made the mistake of hitting on him, he dealt with her harshly. In fact, it was to the point that most women didn’t look at him longer than it was necessary to speak to him. Avgust had already lost Samara once in his life, so he was adamant about making sure that such a thing never happened again. To say that Avgust Kotov loved his wife was an understatement.
“Thank you,” I replied simply.
“Is there anything else that I can get for you, sir?”
I tried to ignore the huge grin on Avgust’s face as I answered the woman. “As far as my drinks are concerned, I am fine, kukla.”
“Good thing that my wife is not here,” Avgust remarked evenly, knowing why I called certain women doll and why it bothered Samara.
Ignoring Avgust, the waitress asked, “What about anything else?”
Though sex wasn’t my drug of choice, a blowjob always went a long way to relaxing a man, and I could definitely use some relaxing. “Meet me in the men’s restroom in ten minutes,” I instructed. “Be on your knees and ready, kukla.”
She grinned as if she’d just won the lottery before turning to see to her other tables. As soon as she was out of earshot, Avgust said, “And that is my cue.”
“Not all of us can be married to the love of our life, Pakhan,” I joked.
“Well, since you have never been in love before, that’d be kind of hard for you, no?”
This time, I was the one that grinned. “I like to live dangerously, but not that dangerously.”
Standing, putting an end to our evening, Avgust said, “Akim will be fine, Maksim.”
“He’d better be,” I replied, needing it to be true.
Chapter 4
Katja~
I always had mixed emotions pulling my car into this particular parking lot, but there wasn’t anything that I could do about that. As much as I wanted my grandfather at home with me, I didn’t have the time or training to take care of him in the way that he deserved and needed. It also didn’t matter what my mind knew, because my heart ached every single time that I pulled into the parking lot and drove off from it.
Granted, Windmill Gates was a spectacular place to live as far as assisted living went, but there was a very expensive price tag for the benefits of living here. Unlike lots of elderly residential homes, Windmill Gates didn’t have a dorm setting, nor was it set up like a hospital. Instead, it was made up of a bunch of individual bungalows where certain residents were guaranteed privacy. Now, while there was a building that catered to specialized care and was set up like a hospital with a common room, if you were still an abled body, then you got to live in the bungalows, and you were checked on regularly. The bungalows also had panic buttons throughout the rooms, and they also came with two discrete cameras that faced the bathroom door and kitchenette area.
At any rate, my grandfather had been able to procure one of the bungalows, and though it was expensive as hell, it was worth it if it kept his integrity intact. Plus, his bungalow was equipped with support bars, and he never took walks alone. He hadn’t fully recovered from his fall, and so someone was always with him if he wanted to hang out in the gardens or take a walk. The care was really worth the cost of admission, but I’d be lying if I’d said that it wasn’t a strain. Nevertheless, I’d eat plain noodles for the rest of my life if it meant making sure that my grandfather had the best care possible.
Turning off the ignition, I got out of my car, clicked the key fob to lock it back up, then made my way through the iron gates to go visit the only family that I had left. At eighty-three, I could only pray that I had another ten years with him, then after that, I had no idea what I was going to do. While some people would accuse me of being co-dependent, I saw it as cherishing the only time that I had left with the man that had helped raise me.
Another good thing about Windmill Gates was their security. The entire place was gated, and you actually had to check in through a parking gate, and then after that, you had to check in at the lobby before you were allowed to enter the facility grounds. Again, all of this cost money, but it was worth it to keep your loved ones safe. There were so many nursing homes, assisted-living facilities, and elderly complexes that were absolutely horrible or run by greedy administrations that I was thankful to have my grandfather living here if he couldn’t live with me.
Once I got past the lobby, I turned towards the left to where all the bungalows were located. The place had a serene feel to it, and if not for all the older people here, you could actually mistake this place for a vacation spot with how cute the bungalows were.
When I finally reached my grandfather’s bungalow, I knocked, then waited patiently for him to answer. Since I knew his routine well, I knew that he’d just finished his walk after dinner, so the rest of the evening could be spent catching up with me fussing over him.
About a minute later, the door finally swung open, and emotion hit me hard in the chest like it always did when my grandfather opened the door, his welcoming smile lighting up his face. His eyes reminded me so much of my mother that it was a bittersweet experience each time that I saw him.
“Beda,” he greeted affectionately.
Though I didn’t know much Russian, I knew that word like the back of my hand. “If I’m trouble, then it’s because you made me that way,” I teased before leaning in to give him a hug.
He chuckled good-naturedly. “Ah, I missed my girl.”
