Owned: A Mafia Menage Romance(62)

“Is this… Taylor Swift?” she says suddenly, squinting up at me.

“Yeah, it's the Russian version,” I explain.

“Is that legal?”

“You ask too many questions.”

She scowls prettily. “No, seriously, is it?”

“No idea. But there's a whole radio station of Russian covers right here in Chicago. 99.9, did you notice?”

“No, I didn’t notice. Why would I notice that?”

“Ah, Princess, you have so much to learn.”

As we are turning a slow circle, I hear a sound over my shoulder. Not sure what it is exactly but then what I'm seeing confirms it. Roman and Olga are at the edge of the tent, standing there with a couple more cousins named Taylor and Taylor. Two Taylor's. And Roman is laughing. Head tipped back, throat flushed. He's laughing.

And then I guess I'm laughing too, because Marie pulls her head back and looks at me. Then she looks around the room, confused until she sees Roman and the cousins.

“You really love him, don't you?” she says softly.

“What kind of question is that? Of course I love him. He's my brother.”

I try to shrug it off, but she's looking at me. Really looking at me, and then looking at him. Really looking, and I hear her take a deep breath and sigh. She almost sounds happy. Almost.

What the hell did Olga tell her?





CHAPTER 17


ROMAN

It really does feel good to get back to work. I turn the Jeep off in the parking space and look out the front window until I spot the guy that Leon told me about. Clever little rat. Not paying the brigadier what is owed. Not doing what he is obligated to do.

I'm not supposed to kill him, just change his mind. Just show a little influence, remind him who's really boss.

That's what it takes sometimes. People think that there's no oversight, that there's no one paying attention to what they do. They don't know that we always see. There's always somebody paying attention. Even the most free guy in the world has somebody with their nose in his business, sniffing out every secret that he has got. Everybody's got one of those.

This guy, Balki, is supposed to be fencing jewelry. Simple fence operation. Some guys on the North Shore routinely shake out the family jewels, and those are supposed to come down here and get reset, melted down, reshaped, generally turned into something else. And then fenced out. The important pieces might be sold at public auction. There's enough jewelry that has questionable origins around the Russians and the Jews that mysterious things turn up for auction and there aren't a lot of people wanting to say where they came from. It’s supposed to be an easy operation.

But Balki decided he was going to keep some of the sweet pieces for himself. He didn't think anybody would notice. Like, he seems to think nobody saw the house that he bought in Kenilworth, that giant limestone monstrosity with the swimming pool he can't use. Nobody noticed the hookers he keeps taking to dinner. Yeah, right. We’re all stupid, Balki.

The L train rumbles over my head, shaking the girders and making the street dark for just a moment as Balki twists the pole that opens the green awning in front of his shop. He's about sixty. I'm going to have to be gentle.

But I really don't want to be gentle, not at all. I've got such a backup of frustration in my balls right now that I feel like my nuts are going to explode. Just thinking about all the ways that I can convince Balki to change his mind is giving me a hard on like crazy. He's going to think that I'm here to fuck him.

Balki tightens the awning and heads back inside. I'm out of the Jeep, pressing the key fob to lock it behind me. It chirps at me. I notice I’ve got a bit of a bounce in my step. I'm excited.

But he seems to know right away what I'm there for. When the door jangles open and then closes behind me, I snap the deadbolt and Balki looks at me slowly, like he was expecting me. His face goes gray. He knew this was coming, see. He knew. He had to know.

“Who sent you?” he says, cutting right to the chase.

“Doesn't matter.”

“Okay, I think this is a big misunderstanding. You know, I heard that some people were looking at me… Looking at my stuff… And I gotta tell you right now, everything is totally on board. Okay? So you just tell Leon or Arnie or whoever… I'm doing right by them! I'm doing right by everybody!”

I just start walking into the middle of the room. He's got his hands up already, but I don't need that. There are cameras in the corner so I’m going to take this slow. I wasn't told to do any property damage, so I just pull a can of spray paint out of my back pocket and hold up a finger to tell him to shut the fuck up.

A couple cans of spray paint can really do a world of good if you know how to use them right. In this case, I'm just blacking out the lenses on these cameras. I don't know if they have sound, but if they do he'll have something to remember me by, I guess.