AllFreeNovel
Share Us
We take our private elevator down to the parking garage and get into the bulletproof, black SUV. I drive while Danil sits in the passenger seat, still messing around on his computer. He’s rarely away from the thing. It’s because of him that any of this is possible. He’s been syphoning money for us since we were teenagers, and now we have more money than any of us could spend in a lifetime, hell, in several lifetimes. He’s also constantly searching for anything we can use for blackmail, not to mention all the time he spends on the dark web trying to find Alina. I know it takes a toll on him, but he tries like hell to hide it from us.
Traffic is the usual Friday night hell, but the club isn’t too far away, so when I pull into the busy parking lot, we’re right on time. I eye the line of men out front, noticing that it’s not near as long as I would expect. The building itself is annoyingly tacky. The bright neon sign with a huge pair of tits blinks its welcome, first the left tit, then the right, to any passersby, luring them in with promises of big fake titties. There’s nothing classy about this place. This is the kind of club that you walk into expecting mediocre strippers who are so down on their luck that they might be willing to give you a blowjob for a decent tip.
“Well, this is disappointing,” Vitaly says, and his sad tone makes me laugh.
“Don’t worry. Once they hand this over to us, you’ll be the one in charge of it,” I tell him.
His whole face lights up. “Seriously?”
“If anyone can turn a strip club into a classy, thriving business, it’s you.”
“They’d be so thrilled to know we’re already making plans to take their business from them,” Lev says from the back.
“They might want to get used to it.” I readjust my shoulder holster and button my suit jacket before stepping out. “Let’s go make some new friends.”
The others laugh and follow me out. Danil slips his laptop into the leather messenger bag he always has on him and steps up beside me.
“It took me less than two minutes to hack into the security system here. How the fuck have they lasted so long? We could’ve overrun this Bratva when we were teenagers. Fucking pathetic.”
I take a look at the surrounding buildings, noticing the clubs down the street and the much longer lines outside those. “I’m guessing they’ve just gotten lucky. They’re losing money to every business around here, but up until now, they’ve been the only Bratva. The Italian mafia isn’t on this side of the city, and aside from a few low-level drug dealers, they don’t have much competition.”
“They’re in for a rude awakening,” Lev says, coming up on my other side. “This is going to be so much fun.”
I can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. I give a quick glimpse behind me, making sure Matvey is still with us. He’s pulled the black hood up so most of his face is hidden in shadow. His head is one of the few places that doesn’t have any burn scars, but he still prefers to hide it as much as possible.
“Hey, what the fuck?” some jackass yells at us when we immediately head for the front of the line. When all five of us turn to him, he takes a step back and raises his hand in apology. ‘Sorry, my bad.”
Lev keeps studying him, itching for a fight, but even he knows it would be unfair to the point of just being sad. There’s no sport in beating up a middle-aged, chubby guy who’s desperately hoping to get laid.
“We’re here to see the Barinov brothers,” I tell the bouncer.
He’s a large man, no doubt pumped full of steroids, but I can tell just by looking at him that he doesn’t know how to handle himself in a street fight. He’s all free weights and gym muscle. That doesn’t make a man a good fighter, though. It just means he can open the jar of mayonnaise if it ever gets stuck.
When he hesitates, I add, “They’re expecting us.”
“The Melnikov brothers?” he asks.
“That’s us,” Vitaly says. “You gonna let us into this pussy club or what?”
Vitaly’s complete lack of a filter is yet another reason I prefer to meet with politicians alone.
The bouncer steps aside and waves a woman over to us. She’s in nothing but a very small thong and a couple of sparkly pasties covering her nipples. When she sees us, her smile grows and so does the predatory look in her eyes. She sees money when she looks at us, money that she has no intention of sharing with the other women.
“Trixie, take them to see the bosses in the VIP section,” the bouncer tells her.
When Trixie gets zero encouragement from me, she turns that big smile to Vitaly, who gladly takes the bait.
“Lead the way,” he says with a big grin, and then stares at her ass as she guides us through the busy club.
The sultry music vibrates up from the floor, and when I scan the large room we’re in, I’m happy to see that at least the bare bones of this place are something that we can work with. It won’t be a complete gut job then. There are three stages, all of them being used by pole dancers, and there are plenty of topless waitresses walking around to please the male guests. Pasties are apparently optional, and many have chosen to not wear them.
Trixie stops outside the VIP section to speak to the woman on duty. Judging by the look on Trixie’s heavily made-up face, she’s letting the other woman know that she’ll be taking care of us tonight. Trixie is in for a big disappointment.
With a fake giggle and another ass wiggle, Trixie beckons us forward. Vitaly takes the lead just so he can stare at her ass while the rest of us follow behind. The VIP section is a joke. Apparently the only thing making it VIP is that you have to walk up three stairs to get to it. Other than that, I really can’t tell a damn difference between these tables and the ones below, except that we’re about twenty inches higher. Oh the perks to being very important people.
“Trixie, over here, doll.”
I look to the man who’s just spoken, knowing immediately that he must be Oleg Barinov, the oldest of the siblings. He’s leaning back, arms spread out along the booth’s cushion with a topless dancer on either side of him like he’s the fucking don of some mafioso and we’re supposed to bow down and kiss his fucking ring.
