Most likely, he or one of his men would follow her today, but that wouldn't stop her. She wouldn't quit digging until she unearthed all his secrets.
Chapter Eight
Glazov bit his bottom lip and scowled as he did his best to ignore his antagonistic cousin. As usual, Novak was seated off to one side of the Pakhan's grand antique desk, one ankle crossed over the other knee, a Russian coin twirling back and forth through his fingers. Even Glazov had to admit that the way Novak rolled that fucking thing up, over, and through his fingers was strangely fascinating. But he didn't have time for such indulgences today.
"What, motherfucker? Spit it out," Glazov finally hissed.
Novak tossed the coin into the air and caught it in his fist before straightening in his chair, his eyes narrowing speculatively. "You know who it is."
"We don't know it's him. We don't know anything."
"Point taken-he's a fucking ghost. It's him. You know as well as I do."
"He's mentally ill, is what he is."
"Enough with all that proper English shit you have going on with your uptight self. What I'm sayin' is that 'crazy' is a relative term, cuz – quite literally, as it turns out, in this case."
Glazov rolled his eyes, preparing for yet another Novak monologue on life and the frailties of the human condition. He didn't disappoint.
"We're all fuckin' crazy. You make it sound like he's been diagnosed by a doctor. You can't tell me that any medical professional wouldn't diagnose all of us as batshit crazy. You and me … we're still just as crazy as any other motherfucker.
"But that's not what this is about. This is about somebody wanting what you have. Say what you want about Kodiak being young," he chuckled, "with that closet full of high-dollar tennis shoes – What the fuck do they call them now? Kicks? -- and designer jeans instead of a decent suit. But he has a point: this fucker is motivated by jealousy and greed. He wants what you have. But I do think ego plays a big part in all of this; he thinks you aren't the rightful Bratva heir. He dares to doubt your claim. How close are you going to let him get to you, to your family, before you take him out?"
It was where she always went when she needed private time to research: the library. Here she didn't have to worry about her search history being traced or her keystrokes being monitored. She decided it was high time that she do some research on her family … her Bratva family. Glazov's father, grandfather, and so on. Glazov never talked about either of them. Considering how family-oriented he was, she had always believed there was an unpleasant reason why he never talked about it.
Her husband wasn't the kind of man you pressed to talk if he didn't want to. And she wasn't the kind of wife to not investigate. If she couldn't find what she needed to know through the front door, she'd simply go through the back. Hell, if that didn't work, she'd find a window.
Whatever it took, and she was just getting started. She would find out what she needed to know but would never confront Glazov with it. Knowledge was power, yes, but wisdom was knowing not to yank Alexander Glazov's chain with it. She was curious-not crazy.
If she was going to find out whatever it was her husband was hiding, she was going to have to look back further in time. Most women would assume her husband's secret was another woman but she knew better than that. She knew her husband, knew something was troubling him deeply. She would find out what it was and fix it if she could. Isn't that what wives and mothers did … fix things? And then there was that whole curiosity thing.
She weeded through the articles about her Bratva family. She had quit reading that shit a long time ago, unless it was something Novak's journalist wife, Katrina, wrote and then she was all eyes.
A reporter's question jumped out at her right away. "Mr. Glazov, most Russian men are named after their father. And, yet, you are not. Why?"
His response was the smoothly dismissive answer of a man who was accustomed to dealing with reporters. "You would have to ask my father that question and since he's no longer with us, that's highly unlikely."
Kathleen exhaled harshly and rubbed her temples in frustration. Just what she needed, something else to pique her curiosity. She hoped this wasn't going to be one of those ventures that raised more questions than answers. What fun was that?
After an hour of pouring over articles and one or two rare interviews, she could find no further mention of her husband's descendants. It only solidified her belief that there were some strange family dynamics among the Glazovs. She didn't know of any family that didn't have problems, of course, so there was no reason why it should be any different with the Glazovs.