Captivated by the deadly mafia boss

Micah

I find my father in his office in the back of the house. This last week with Lena has put a rose-colored shade over the reality of my work. But it’s time I get back into the full swing of things with the Ivanov business.

As I enter Roman’s office a young woman, much younger than Lena, slithers past me. One of Roman’s men steps out to greet her and grabs her arm, half dragging her away from the office.

“Ah. Micah.” Roman zips up his pants and tucks his shirt back in. “I almost forgot you were coming today. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

I watch the girl being pulled down a corridor that leads to the underground entrance to the stable. It wasn’t that long ago I walked through that very hallway to speak with Lena.

After I shut the office door, I shake off the memory of her being kept in that rancid place. Rats are treated better than those women.

“I’ve been busy with the restaurant and the clubs.” I hand him a folder with all the bookkeeper reports. “We’re pulling in a much larger profit than I thought we would the first year.” I point at the folder.

He drops it to his desk without opening it and heads to his bar to make himself a drink.

“And all that profit will disappear once the taxman comes to collect.” He rolls his head from one shoulder to the other. “But it’s a good way to keep the feds off our asses.” He tips his glass back and downs his drink.

“I’ve put in a bid on a property in Skokie and another out in Naperville. If both go our way, we’ll be expanding the restaurant.” I slide my hands into my pockets. It’s a bold move to expand so quickly, but right now we have a waitlist of several months. Moving to the right suburbs will spread the word. I didn’t invest so much money in this venture to see it fail. It will succeed.

“So soon?”

“It gives us room to grow all aspects of the business,” I explain. I have every intention of bringing more legal businesses into the fold, but I can’t deny the profits we gain with the avenues we walk on the other side of the law.

His eyebrows arch. “Ah, I see. Explain.”

“The more legal businesses we have, the more we can run through the business.”

He thinks for a moment. “That’s true. We can wash our own laundry instead of depending on so many outsiders.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then. Good. That’s good thinking, Micah.” He points at me. “And the stable? Have you given thought on how to best expand the operation?”

I roll my shoulders back. “Yes. I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m not sure expanding that part of the business is a good idea right now.”Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

What little light had bloomed in his eyes at my idea to expand the restaurants diminishes. “I told you what I have planned.”

“I know.” I keep my tone level; any provocation and he’ll throw up his brick wall of ignorance. “I’ve been going over those numbers as well, looking at everything that goes into it and I’m not sure doubling it is a good idea right now. It’s not as profitable as the other streams of income we have; doubling down on it could put us in the red.”

“You question me?” His accusation comes at me hard, coupled with the same dark disapproval he’s had for me over the years. After Igor’s death it only grew.

“No, I’m questioning the numbers, the projections,” I point out. Money, he understands. It’s probably the only thing he understands.

“Money will be made.” He pours another drink. “We can lower our costs. Sell more. It will work.”

“The costs will double if you take in more than you already do. And where will you house between shipments?”

He huffs. “Double up in the cells. It will be fine.”

“There’s no reason to double. Why are you so insistent on this part of the business? It’s not making the family as much money as our other streams. There’s no reason-”

“Your brother never would have spoken to me like this,” he seethes at me. “Igor knew this business, he built it and you want to tear it down!”

“Tear it down? No. But don’t double down on something that’s not going to double profits. It’s basic math.”

His eyes narrow to slits. “This is that Polish slut getting into your head.”

I move my hands from my pockets and take a step in his direction. “My wife’s name is Lena,” I say with gritted teeth. “I won’t have you talking like that about her.”

His brows shoot up. “Oh? You’re going to tell me how to talk now?”

“She’s my wife.”

“Because I made it so. She’s supposed to be used to humiliate that fucking family, but instead you have her living like a fucking princess up in your tower!” Spittle flies from his mouth. “She’s going to be volunteering at that whorehouse of her brothers’?”

“You don’t need to have your men talk behind my back, you can just ask me, and I’ll be happy to tell you everything I’m doing,” I shoot back at him. “She’s volunteering at the halfway house, yes. And no, she won’t be used in your little game of revenge. What is your obsession?” I ask again, having had enough of secrets and backroom conversations.

He stares at me for a long moment.

“You’re more like your brother than I thought,” he says, but it’s not a compliment. I’ve never heard him sound so sour when it came to Igor.

“Igor would agree with me. The stable isn’t worth more investment.” I stand my ground, knowing I’m on thin ice.

“He probably would.” He nods. “Your brother let his fucking cock lead him away from family loyalty, too. Just like you.”

“What does that mean?”

His lips curl inward. A deep red splatters over his cheeks. I’m not sure if he’s going to swing at me or pull his gun out and shoot me-his anger shakes the air between us.

“It means you both make me do things I don’t want to do. When Igor failed, I had hoped you would succeed. But I see that’s not going to happen.”

“You aren’t making any sense. Igor did nothing but exactly what you wanted.”

“He betrayed me, just like you are.”

“He didn’t do anything to you.” I fist my hands. Roman is off on a tangent; keeping him corralled to one subject will be hard now that he’s let his temper get the best of him.

“No?” He slams his empty glass onto the bar. “Igor didn’t understand the Staszek family was not our friends. That dirty Polish fucking family pulled him in.”

“What are you talking about?”

“While you were off going to college and working so fucking hard getting your clubs and your restaurants up and running, your brother was befriending the fucking Staszek boy. And then he turned on our family, talking crazy shit about shutting down the stable. Not slowing down, but shutting down.” He charges at me but stops short of running into me. “You both are fucking weak. I am ashamed to have my blood running through your fucking veins.”

I stare at him in silence, letting his words sink in.

“Igor was friends with Dominik?” I ask.

“No. The other one, the young one.” He wipes a hand across his mouth. “He let that Polish prick talk him into getting rid of the stable-all for some girl.”

The pieces fall into place.

“Did you hurt Igor?” I demand, the idea popping out of my mouth before my brain filters it out.

He steps back as though I struck him.

“No,” he yells. “I did no such thing.” Pain breaks up the anger in his eyes, and I can’t help but believe him. No matter what Igor did to piss him off, Roman loved him. But even though he didn’t physically harm him, my father has ways of hurting people in worse ways.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. Probably Niko again. I’ll deal with him later.

“My not wanting to expand the stables has nothing to do with Lena,” I assure my father calmly. “It has everything to do with profits, and there won’t be any if you chase after ventures that don’t produce.”

He keeps his glare in place and shakes his head. “You aren’t in charge of this family yet, Micah. You’ll do what you’re told. The business lines are my domain, and until I’m cold in my grave, you’ll keep doing what you’re commanded to do.”

My jaw aches, I clench so tightly. There’s little I can do without fully insulting him, which would result in my wife being put in danger. Myself being put on a fucking stake.

“As long as you understand, Lena is not to be humiliated. She’s my wife now, and any embarrassment she feels reflects on me. If you disrespect her, you disrespect me.” I point at him. “You are my father, and the head of this family, but she is my responsibility. The day she put my ring on her finger is the day she became an Ivanov, and any action against her is an action against us all.” He wants to throw around family loyalty, then we can both have ammunition in that fight.

“Perhaps you should go, Micah, before I do something we both regret.” He moves to his desk and sinks into his chair, steeling his hands in front of him. “Go home. Think about where your loyalties lie.”

I’ve been effectively dismissed.

On my way out of the house, my father’s housekeeper, Katarina, tries to start up a conversation, but I dodge her. This house is no longer welcoming.

I have nothing here. And when I find out the truth of all the things he spewed at me, I doubt I will ever be returning.