9|Too Easy

"Ivan, Igor, where's my wife? Found her yet?" Andrei asked from the back seat as he threw his phone at Ivan so he could log in to the Hot Connexions app.

They'd picked him up half an hour ago from Aero's headquarters. Now, they were on a lonely stretch of road, racing to the rendezvous spot, an old airport—well, not exactly old since it was still in use. But only by a few select government officials and well-connected people. One phone call to the right person had made it possible for Andrei to use it tonight. He could have used his private airstrip in Linksfield, but the Hawks were on his back after the shit with Dreams and Leks' string of bad deals. They were much harder to buy off than the po-pos. Tonight's venue had cost him an arm and a leg, but it was a small price to pay for the privacy and anonymity it guaranteed.

"Guys, why am I talking to myself?" he asked when his lieutenants showed no signs of life.

"Well, very few women have a death wish—" Ivan began, but paused, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Holy shit!"

"What?" Andrei asked. "What is it?" 

"Well, you have a match. Someone swiped right on you." 

"Who?"

Without turning around, Ivan returned the phone to him and tried to make himself invisible in his seat, an impossible mission considering his bulky frame.

"What is this?" Andrei asked. 

It took a lot to shake him up. And to say this new development had shaken him up was an understatement. Was it some kind of a joke? Were his men messing with him? Testing him to see how much of their pranks he could take? 

"Ivan, what is the meaning of this?" he thundered, his almost non-detectable Russian accent making a grand appearance with each word he spoke. It always made an appearance when he was furious, confused or downright excitable. At that moment, he was furious and confused and couldn't understand what his men were playing at. "Is this some kind of joke? Why would you pick Holly Anderson? She's a fucking prima donna, selfish, spoilt, and not to mention she's the daughter of the enemy."

"Not true. The Andersons are our business partners now."

"That's just semantics, Igor! She's Holly Fucking Anderson! I don't like her!"

"Well, it seems she likes you. And might I add, she's the only woman brave enough to swipe right on you, and your profile has been up for—" Igor paused to check the time on his wristwatch for dramatic effect, carrying on with a smug smile as he winked at him in the rear-view mirror. "—a whole seven days."

"No!" Andrei shot out his denial, shuddering at the thought of Holly Anderson being his wife. He had rules. He didn't shit where he ate. Besides, she wasn't just a no-go zone because of her brother. She was too high-maintenance. No way he'd ever swipe right on her. What the hell was this thing about swiping right anyway? Couldn't they add hearts instead of swiping right? That was the first major change he'd make to their ridiculous interface when he bought Hot Connexions. He'd turn romance and dating old school again. Hearts and flowers. Not this swiping right shit! 

"No!" he said again, annoyed that he was even entertaining the idea of buying a dating app, and only because Holly had swiped right on him. "Keep looking. There has to be someone out there for me."

"Sure thing, Boss."

Fifteen minutes later, they drove into the private airport. Igor gave the security guard the name of their contact. Without checking the car for weapons and other illegal shit they may be carrying, he let them through. 

They sped straight to the meeting spot, an unused runway a few blocks from the old hangar which housed decommissioned military planes. Once upon a time, Andrei had wanted to fly those military planes. Fighter jets, to be exact. He wanted to join the Air Force, but his surname and terrible luck of being born two minutes earlier than Leks had sealed his fate. There were no dreams for him. Just duty, responsibility, and honour.

"Boss?" Ivan shook him out of his pensive thoughts. "The guys are sweeping the area. Stay put until we give you an all-clear."

Andrei grumbled as he watched his men step out of the car and fire instructions at their security team—eight guys in total, two in each of the three armoured G-Wagens parked behind them and the one in front. He never used to travel with so many guys. But after the shitshow with the Hawthornes six months earlier, when Maryke De Jager died in a hail of bullets, his father had insisted they should err on the side of caution. 

While his men did their checks, Andrei turned his attention to his phone and responded to the ever-increasing emails from his business partners. Running two income streams, the legit and the not-so-legit, was exhausting. He now understood why his father had given him the legit side of the business, and Leks took the shady shit. But of course, his twin had to fuck it all up with the Andersons. Everything seemed to come back to the bloody Andersons.

A light tap on his window stole Andrei's attention. Igor's face filled the tinted pane as he rasped, "It's clear."

The crisp night breeze hit Andrei as soon as he slammed the door shut behind him. He took in huge chunks of air, filling his lungs. He was nervous. Not because this was a major deal. On the contrary, it was an introductory meeting to see if they could collaborate in the future. The reason for his anxiety was the fact that the Mexicans were not his people. They were not a connection he'd made himself, and he hated doing business with strangers. But Mikhail, his cousin, had assured him the Mexicans were legit and could be trusted. 

"Too fucking late to pull out now," he muttered as he leaned against the car, stuffed his hands in his pocket, and gazed at the clear night sky. He'd burned his fingers one too many times in the past by trusting friends of friends. 

"What's that, Boss?" Igor asked, giving him a sidelong glance. 

"I don't like this," Andrei said. "It doesn't feel right."

"What? Holly?" Ivan asked.

"No, smart ass!" Andrei barked. "This whole thing. Doesn't it seem too easy? I mean, it only took a week to arrange this meeting, and there were no hiccups along the way."

"Stop stressing," Igor said, squeezing his shoulder. "We vetted him, remember? Mikhail also vouched for him—"

"I know Mikhail vouched for him," Andrei muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. "But am I the only one who remembers the bastard worked with Ethan and stole from me?"

"And you let him get away with it," Ivan reminded him.

"Did I have a choice?" Andrei shot back. If it was up to him, he would have put a bullet in Mikhail's head. But his father had asked him to stand down, reasoning he was their flesh and blood, and they owed a lot to Sergei, Mikhail's father. The man had stepped up and led the family when Nikolai was thrown in the slammer—

"Relax," said Ivan, squeezing Andrei's shoulder. "Mikhail wouldn't set us up. We're family. If this shit goes sideways, it will affect all of us." 

Andrei nodded, somewhat comforted by his words, but the grim frown on his face stayed put, even though it was the first real thing his lieutenant had said that made sense. 

Sometimes, Andrei worried about Ivan. He was too relaxed, almost too blasé about everything. He was one of the good guys, though. Otherwise, he wouldn't have moved from recruit to made man in just under two years when there were a shit ton of other guys who'd put in at least a decade serving the family, and they were still waiting for the call.

There was a lot of resentment from the older soldiers who'd given their blood, sweat, and tears only to be overlooked. Their resentment wasn't just aimed at Ivan and Igor, but also at Andrei. 

Many believed the coveted position of underboss was handed to him on a silver platter because of his father. But they were wrong. Dead wrong. Like every other made man, Andrei had to start at the bottom as a recruit and work his way through the ranks, while Nikolai served his twenty-five-to-life in the slammer. Without their father's protection, Andrei and Leks had to prove themselves time and again, and way more than the other guys, simply because they were Ivanovs. 

The things Andrei had had to do for the family, the places and lengths he'd had to go to prove his loyalty—

"Here, have a smoke. You need to calm down," Igor said as he reached inside his biker jacket and pulled out a pack of Rothmans. 

Andrei wasn't a fan of Rothmans, but anxious as fuck, any cigarette would do. So he grabbed one, Igor lit it up for him, and he strolled a few feet away from everyone. He liked to enjoy his cigarette in peace if he could. But as he took a long drag and gazed up at the sky, he realised he'd never have peace until he found a damn wife.

A distant rumbling of a plane flying low in the sky pulled Andrei out of his dark thoughts. He stubbed out his cigarette and squashed it under his foot before rejoining his lieutenants.