Roksana's eyes still had that look as she answered her mother. "If I don't kill them first."
"No, Roksana … this is personal. Your father wants their blood dripping from his hands. Whoever's responsible for this is going to answer directly to the Pakhan."
"Fine by me. But I can assure you, Oleg and I will have a front row seat for the interrogation. Maybe we'll get lucky and he will even let us help."
There was no sense in Kathleen arguing with her daughter. Once she had something in her head, she was just like her father-there was no stopping her.
Glazov's body and mind were clear once again. Yes, all it took was a hard fuck and a brutal fight to get a man back on track. Hmm, he thought with a smirk, more like a hard fight and a brutal fuck.
He had always known it would take a certain kind of woman to withstand him. His wife was a fighter, a survivor. There wasn't a whole lot you could throw at the woman that she couldn't handle.
He had called his inner circle into his office to discuss fallout from the attack: an update on those injured, results of the search efforts, plans going forward. Usually he would limit such preliminary discussions to Novak. Novak knew how to take things with a grain of salt when Glazov was angry. Novak was like a brother to him; he could tell the difference between Glazov venting and Glazov issuing an order.
"Dmitriy, if it moves I want surveillance on it. Nobody knew about the wedding but Bratva and our closest business associates. If there is a mole in this organization, I want to know who it is."
"Yes, Pakhan." Dmitriy nodded, already cataloging in his mind everything he would need to fulfill the Pakhan's wishes.
"You know how it is; disgruntled employees-people unhappy with the changes you're making," Kodiak mused aloud, pensively rubbing his long fingers over the stubble along his jaw.
Glazov looked at his son, who had his legs stretched out and his usual high-dollar sneakers on his feet. He and his brother, Nikita, were so different-Kodiak's olive complexion and dark hair consistent with his Italian heritage, Nikita so blonde and fair -- yet they were so alike in their territorial devotion to the family's work.
Nikita was the spitting image of Glazov in his power suit, his blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail -- just like his father. Sitting ramrod straight, his face set in stone, Nikita spoke quietly. "Disgruntled, my ass. That's a fucking, straight-up betrayal."
"I'm not saying it isn't-that's a no-brainer. I'm just telling you where that shit is coming from. It's rooted in greed, man."
Glazov pondered what Kodiak was saying. He made an excellent point. "So, you believe it's spawned from greed and not ego?"
"Yes, sir. I do. Some of the guards are worried they won't be making as much money because we're going straight. Maybe it's a form of protest."
Novak spoke up, confirming what he'd already been thinking.
"He's on to something, cuz."
"I think so too. But that's what concerns me; I've always been more than fair with the men who work for me. I'm disappointed they would jump to conclusions if that's the case."
Novak smirked, "Nobody's got the balls to step up and ask if they're going to take a pay cut. News flash: you're the Pakhan."
Glazov leaned back in his chair, nostrils flaring. "Yet they have the audacity to put my wife, children and unborn grandchild in danger?" He didn't miss the 'oh shit, he knows' look that passed between his sons as he continued. "Greed may play a role here, but this smacks of ego as well; someone trying to prove something. Greed and ego can be a lethal combination. I'm going to send a clear message when I find the son of a bitch who did this, and skin him alive."
He directed his next statement to Oleg. "There will be no avenging the Pakhan on this one. You just bring him to me. I will handle it personally. This man's blood will be on my hands and my hands only."
Although most people couldn't read Oleg's stoic expression, Glazov saw the almost childlike disappointment in his eyes. Oleg was as much a sadist as Glazov was. The thought of skinning Glazov's unknown enemy alive was tantalizing to a man like him. Oleg was a favorite of Glazov's because he specialized in torture and interrogation methods. He was also the only man who could handle Glazov's daughter, Roksana. To date, there had never been a man who had been able to keep their mouth shut after spending quality time with Oleg and a hot poker … or a whip … or a drill.