Chapter Four — Plan In Motion

New York

I get to my feet and walk down to the bank of floor to ceiling windows that give my office a magnificent view of Central Park.

"We're not up against an ordinary enemy here. Romanov is smart... too smart, I must say."

Ricardo begins tapping a foot against the marble floors.

"That is where you come in, boss. You will marry Romanov's daughter in place of Ramsey Mikhailov. But for that to happen, we need a foolproof plan."

"It would be easier if you were up against just one enemy." Thelma says quietly.

Ricardo and I turn to her.

"Excuse me?" I ask.

Thelma sighs.

"Romanov is not a strong enough opponent compared to his Personal Assistant and Chief Adviser."

Her eyes darken with contempt,

"That man is pure evil. He's the brain power behind most of Romanov's best, well laid plans. Richard Smollett. The demon in a suit."

I eye her thoughtfully,

"Smollett. Now why does that name sound so familiar?" Ricardo asks

"Because it is."

Ricardo gives me a sharp look from across the room.

"How so, boss?"

"He was Dad's former second-in-command. I've never met the man personally but from the stories I've heard, he left New York when Dad refused to implement his idea of introducing sex and human trafficking into the Familia. According to Dad, he never returned. He just... disappeared. Guess we now know where he's been all these years."

Ricardo nods grimly.

"So the turncoat decided to seek alliances with the devil himself. That is devious on so many levels."

Thelma clears her throat.

"Well, gentlemen. I have done all I can to help you. Now please hand over my money. Five million dollars. I accept cash only."

I level her with an angry gaze.

"Five million dollars? Do we look stupid to you? So far you've sat there, spitting tall tales. I apologize, Thelma but I'm a very cynical man. You will get two point five million here. Cash. You will not get the full amount in case you turn out to be a con. But the money will be yours after the job has been completed. Successfully."

Thelma glares daggers at me from across the table. I have struck a nerve, indeed.

She sighs wearily, sinking further into her seat.

"I guess you're right, Mr. Blackstone. You have every right to doubt my claims. I accept your offer but I have a condition."

Ricardo and I raise curious brows at her.

"What's that?"

"I get to stay here and you give me your word that I have your full protection. Only until you're able to implement whatever plans you have in mind, of course. And I get my money. In full. After which I would disappear without a trace.

So, Capo. What's it going to be?"

I give her a thoughtful look.

"Fair enough. You have my word. Full protection will be given to you. I'll make arrangements for suitable accommodations, too. But you're only allowed to stay here until I kill that fucker. And not a day longer. I hope I am clear."

"Like crystal."

"Good." I snap my fingers, "Ricardo, please get Miss Thelma her money. Cash only."

"Right away, boss."

Ricardo gets to his feet swiftly and exits the double doors.

I draw my MacBook across the smooth surface of the table, about to reply to some important emails when Thelma speaks up.

"I wish you wouldn't hurt Skylar Romanov."

I pause.

"Excuse me?"

"Skylar. Romanov's daughter. She's innocent in all of this. It is not fair that she gets to be punished for her father's sins."

I push the MacBook away again. I guess work would have to wait.

"Let me make something very clear to you, Thelma. You have played your part in helping us locate Romanov and I am indebted to you for that. A debt to the tune of five million dollars which I intend to pay. In full. What I plan to do with the spoils of my war should not in any way concern you."

Thelma grips the edge of the table with shaky fingers, eyes flashing.

"Of course it concerns me! Skylar is like a daughter to me. Yulia too. I do not want them to come in harm's way."

I scoff.

"Innocent. Are they, though? I gather from what you've just told us that Romanov's daughter lives like a fucking Barbie princess in her father's mansion. A luxurious life with money her father gets from making people suffer and wrecking havoc in the lives of others. She will be punished in the same accord."

I finish, dismissively.

"But she's not aware of her father's involvement with the Mafia. Do not hurt her, Blackstone. Please."

I hold her pleading gaze for all of two seconds.

"This conversation is over, Miss Thelma. Oh and as for Yulia. I haven't decided on what I want to do with her yet."

"And you will make no such decisions, boss. Yulia is mine."

Thelma and I look up as Ricardo comes back through the double doors, wielding a sleek, black briefcase.

I give him a questioning look and he replies with a look of his own. A look that says, ' we will be discussing this later.'

He pauses just before Thelma, flipping the briefcase open to reveal crisp one hundred dollar notes, arranged in neat stacks.

"Two point five million dollars. In the flesh. You are very free to count it, miss."

He flips the lid back over the case and Thelma grabs it from him, clutching it tightly.

"Counting would not be necessary. I'm not dealing with cheats after all."

She gets to her feet and directs her gaze at me.

"Think about what I said, Mr. Blackstone. Gentlemen." She nods in our general direction,

"I'll be taking my leave now."

Ricardo, never one to be accused of being a gentleman moves out of her way, watching as she struggles with the heavy briefcase, her totebag and the double doors.

My secretary finally arrives to announce an appointment and she opens the doors, letting a disgruntled Thelma through.

She shuts the doors, walking with her too high heels to my table.

"Sorry for the interruption, sir, but your two thirty appointment is up in the next five minutes "

I rub my palm across my face, noting the stubble on my cheeks.

"Cancel all my appointments for today, Lala. I've got important business to handle."

"Of course, sir." She says without missing a beat.

"That would be all, thank you."

"Alright, sir"

She leaves the office, the deliberate swing of her hips never failing to go unnoticed.

"You know she wants you." Ricardo says.

I fix him with a hard stare.

"They all do. They're not getting me, though."

Ricardo laughs,

"You'll be sworn in officially as Capo soon. You will have to settle for one of them eventually."

"I'm perfectly okay with fucking the brains out of the sluts in my club, Ricardo, thank you very much. Makes life easier."

Ricardo smiles, picking up a superbike magazine from a rack by the table.

"Who's Yulia?" I ask before he gets the chance to change the subject again.

The light in Ricardo's eyes disappear almost immediately. Leaving behind a cold, dark expression.

"She's a... nobody."

"Try again, Ricardo. Who is she?"

He gives me a long, hard look.

"She was in prison with us...with me. Her family is Russian. They had just moved to New York when the Bratva attacked. They killed her entire family, leaving behind just she and her little brother. Her brother died a few days later, while we were being transported in containers to Russia. She never cried. Just sat there, staring at his lifeless, rotting body until they finally took him away. We were all held in the same cell for a while. Most of us were tortured there. She was just ten at the time and Romanov made his men abuse her and all the other little girls... sexually."

He turns away to hide the dark anger in his eyes.

"He took special interest in her for reasons I do not quite understand. One night, they came into our cell and I could no longer stand her pitiful whimpers. I killed those men. Every single last one of them. A few days later, she was taken from the cell and I never saw her again.

I've been looking for her ever since we got our freedom. When Thelma mentioned a certain Yulia that just happens to live with Romanov, I knew she was the one."

"Why exactly are you looking for her, Ric?" I ask quietly.

He pauses for a while, confusion darkening his features further, then sinks into one of the French, hand made sofas.

"I...I don't know. There was just something about her. I intend to find out what it is."

I understand. Really, I do.

"Alright, my friend. Yulia is yours. I won't touch her. I'll make the soldiers understand that she's off limits."

He shoots me a grateful look.

"Thanks, man. Now we just have to figure out a way to sabotage that wedding."

I flip open the blueprints and spread them over the table. Ricardo saunters over and we pore over them for a few hours, exchanging ideas. Laying our game plan.

"We cannot sabotage the wedding without having Ramsey Mikhailov on our side." Ricardo points out, "We need to meet with him. And soon."

I guess it's time to make an alliance with the devil's spawn.

"Leave that to me."

******************

Russia

Armed guards surround the airport, rifles pointed at our plane when we touch down.

Our men position themselves at the entrance of the tiny aircraft, guns drawn, as the doors lift open.

"Holy shit. The Russian Prince ain't playing with us, boss." Ricardo observes.

I wear my sunglasses. More to hide the muderous look I know simmers in my eyes than to block out the non-existent rays of the sun.

This country gives me chills. Very negative chills.

It brings back alot of horrible memories I would rather keep suppressed.

"I'm not surprised," I finally reply, "He's a smart man."

I take a deep breath and shoot Ricardo a look.

"You ready, Ric?"

He checks to ensure that his .38 is fully loaded.

"Always, boss"

"Alright then. Open up the doors. Let's get this show on the road."

The doors of the private jet slide open and my men file out. Outside, the Bratva captain barks out orders in clipped Russian and their men get into position.

They came fully prepared for an all-time showdown, no surprises there. The Bratva and the Familia have been long standing enemies. Whenever the two decide to meet, nothing ever goes well.

"Halt!" Their captain barks and I motion for my men to come to a stop.

More Bratva soldiers file out and we're being subjected to a full fledged search. Our weapons are confiscated and my men are led off to a secure location.

Ricardo and I are led by a stiff faced soldier to another private jet at a secluded part of the vast tarmac. The craft spells opulence. Wealth. Money. Money the Bratva gets from subjecting it's citizens to hardship.

The smooth, shiny surfaces and custom made sofas do not appeal to me.

"Where is Ramsey?" I direct my question at the guard.

"Right here."

Ricardo and I turn swiftly, coming face to face with Ramsey Mikhailov, the Russian golden boy. He is golden, alright.

All bronze skin, blonde hair and blue eyes.

Hate churns in my heart. Contempt threatens to choke me.

Ricardo places a hand on my shoulder. I look up at him and he nods. I take a deep breath, facing my target.

Ramsey finally speaks up,

"The only reason you're standing there, still breathing is the proposition you say you have for me. Otherwise, I would take out the frustration of seeing warehouse after warehouse on my territory go up in smoke, on you."

Beside me, Ricardo shrugs.

"Technically, it's your father's territory."

Ramsey's eyes darken and he gets to his feet. Over six feet and ripped with muscle, this man is not one to be messed with. Luckily, we've taken on bigger giants.

"What did you say to me?" Ramsey asks through gritted teeth.

I quickly intervene. Better to make the deal before I am forced to reduce golden boy's fisting fingers to stumps.

"What Ricardo meant," I cut in, giving Ricardo a look that screams, 'behave', "Is that we do have a proposition for you."

Ramsey gives us a calculative stare. Finally, he plops down on his chair, motioning to the two vacant seats in front of him in a begrudging 'you can seat' gesture.

"Speak. Make it quick and worth my while."

We take our seats, surprised at his sudden change in behaviour.

"We hear you've had access to Romanov. You're getting married to his daughter, to be exact."

I decide to go straight to the point.

Ramsey just scratches his jaw.

"And how exactly did you come by that very interesting piece of news?"

"So you're not going to deny it?" I ask

He heaves a bored sigh.

"You tell me, Blackstone. Of what use would that be?"

He clearly dosen't want this marriage. An added bonus.

"Good. Great. Makes our work easier."

"And your proposition?"

I get to my feet, suddenly feeling constrained. And anyways, I negotiate better on my feet.

"We're here for a truce. An opportunity to work together."

Ramsey begins tapping one booted foot on the carpeted floor.

"You want us to work together. What business have I got with you, Blackstone?"

"See, it's quite simple. I've got something you want and you've got something I want."

He smirks,

"And what, pray tell, do you have that I would want?"

"Peace. Alliance. I will help you secure your daily shipments of drugs that go through my territory. No more hoarding. No more missing crates."

"Bullshit!" Ramsey slams a clenched fist against the smooth, wooden surface of the table.

"You think missing crates are my problem, Blackstone? If you want to make a deal, you better make it good or I walk."

From the corner of my eyes, I catch Ricardo as he slips his fingers into his waist band to caress a hidden weapon. Trust him to evade the search. I shoot him a warning look. He just shrugs.

"Okay, Mikhailov. Let's try that again. I will cease my attacks on the Bratva. Completely. Are you satisfied?"

He purses his lips for a second, giving me a thoughtful look.

"And what do you want in return?"

"I want Romanov Anton. Dead or alive. But much preferably alive. The only way I can infiltrate his mansion in London is through your wedding to his daughter next week."

I know Romanov's death would not be a loss to the Bratva. Ramsey's compliance with the deal simply proves me right.

"What exactly do you want from me, Blackstone?"

"Absolutely nothing. I will marry Skylar Romanov in your place."