Forced to Marry the Russian (Nikolai Bratva Brides #2)

Chapter 18 - Lev

“We meet again, Lev Nikolai,” Cillian said with a smug smile on his face. “It is a pleasure, I must say.”

Lev snorted, his lips quirking with a smirk. It was the day of the meeting with the other heads of the mafia families in Chicago.

He had just got out of his car when Cillian stepped in front of him, as if he’d been standing there all along, waiting for him to arrive. Lev wouldn’t be surprised if he did. Cillian was a dog, and being the leader of the Irish mafia didn’t change that about him. “I cannot say the same about you, Cillian Moore. If it weren’t for your oddly boring look, I would have assumed you were one of my bodyguards.”

Cillian’s smile dropped instantly, showing he’d taken offense to Lev’s insult, just like Lev wanted. “Too bad I’m not, because you would be dead otherwise.”

“Because you would stab me in the back?” Lev chuckled sardonically. “Of course, cowards like you can’t face your opponents. You’d rather run behind the scenes like a sewer rat.”

“Careful now, Nikolai. We don’t want a fight breaking between us before we even make it to the meeting?”

“A fight?” Lev shook his head. “You mean you don’t want your lifeless body to be the topic of the meeting? You’re no match for me, Cillian. You’re just a bitchy whining about the death of his master.”

Cillian opened his mouth to retort but Lev didn’t give him the chance to. He raised his hand, shutting him up before he could even utter the first word. “I would love to stay here and exchange words with you, but I’ll find a blank wall more interesting than I find you.”

With that, Lev stepped to the side and started for the elevator, leaving Cillian seething in the parking lot. A smile played on his lips when he felt Cillian’s gaze burning a hole at the back of his head.

“He’s not going to let that go easily,” Konstantin said. “He’ll cook up something at the meeting.”

Ilya cleared his throat. “He’s not smart enough to come up with anything now, but I’m sure he has something planned for the meeting.”

“Whatever it is, stay on alert. Don’t let your guard down,” Lev ordered.

Cillian was a complete idiot, and that made him even more dangerous than a worthy opponent. He acted on impulse, not with calculated moves. But that also made him easy to take down, too.

The elevator whisked them up to the top floor. Men in suits lined the hallway. They were here to guard their own bosses.

The circle was created to prevent wars between the families, but that didn’t mean there couldn’t be betrayals and conflicts that could lead to deadly fights between the families. Only a fool would come here unprotected, and none of them were fools to that degree.

Konstantin, Ilya, and the three bodyguards behind them took position beside the other bodyguards while Lev went into the room alone. It was his first time attending a meeting with the other bosses. It was Mikhail who should’ve been here, but since Mikhail was not disposed, he had no other choice.

He hated the way the other men raised their heads to look at him. One of them was the head of the Camorra, Luca Angelo, who looked at him as if he didn’t belong there.

And in truth, he didn’t. Stepping up to fill Mikhail’s shoes wasn’t a role he’d ever wanted. In fact, Ivan and Adrian had better chances of being happier as second-in-command. But this was his duty as the second son, taking charge when his older brother couldn’t.

“You’re late,” Luca said as Lev strolled to the empty seat next to him and sat. “One would think you would not keep us waiting.”

Luca was the head of the ‘Ndrangheta. He was fifty, infamous for his lack of respect for women and children. That was the reason he and the Bratva never got along beyond the point of basic civility. His sheer respect and disregard for women was something the Nikolai brothers detested.

To his right sat David Siegel, the leader of the Jewish mafia. He was the youngest in the room, becoming the leader at eighteen after the death of his father. He hardly spoke, preferring to communicate with his gun. His reputation as a ruthless mafia boss preceded him.

Lev looked the man dead in the eyes, his brows shooting up to his hairline. “Because I am not my brother?”

The air grew hot with tension.

“Your brother would not keep us waiting,” Luca said finally, after possibly considering his next words carefully.

“I am not my brother, and you will do well to remember that Lev warned. He looked at the other two men sitting around the table. “All of you will remember that.”

None of them said anything, but Lev knew they’d heard him, and they understood his warning.

Cillian strolled in next. He sat on the chair across from Lev’s, next to Matteo Romero, the capo of the Cosa Nostra. He was strong for a man who was almost sixty. The only giveaway for his old age was his almost blind right eye.

No one dared to question Cillian about his lateness, but it wasn’t because they feared him. Lev’s warning had made the room tense.

“What is this meeting about?” Lev asked, twisting his wrist to glance at his wristwatch. “I’d like for us to tackle whatever it is so I can go home to my wife.”

His wife. Zia. Things had been going smoothly with them, and his attraction to her had grown deeper than he would have ever imagined. She’d talked about them having a child, and he’d never really wanted children before now. Yet, the thought of going back home to her and their kids every night filled him with a type of happiness he couldn’t describe.

If they had a child, he wanted the kid to look like her. Dark curly hair, blue eyes, and a face that could make angels weep. But he didn’t want to push her. He would be ready to have kids when she was ready. And he would love them with every fiber of his existence.

“We received a report from Cillian about an attack on his family,” Matteo started, sitting straight and steepling his fingers in front of him. “Did you do it?”

Lev laughed before he could stop himself. This was definitely going to be more fun than he’d imagined. “An attack on his family? Did he say who was responsible?”

“I have my reasons to believe the Bratva was responsible for the attack,” Cillian cut in. “Your brother killed Dostoevsky. It makes sense that you would put a target on my back, considering he and I were allies.”

“Allies?” Lev asked, keeping his tone sardonic. “If you hadn’t specified, I would have assumed he was your master and you were his loyal dog. Or should I say you still are?”

“Watch your tongue, Nikolai—”

“Or what?” Lev smirked, amused that Cillian was already fuming. “You said you have your reasons to believe I was responsible for the supposed attack on you. Let’s hear the reasons.”

“You do not fucking tell me what to do,” Cillian growled.

“We cannot make judgment unless we know the cause of the feud between both of you, Moore,” Luca said, folding his arms. “You cannot make accusations without any proof.”

Cillian leaned back in his seat and exhaled. “My warehouse was attacked last night, and there’s only one person who would do that.”

“And that is me?”

Cillian nodded.

Good. Lev had him right where he wanted him. The lying son of a bitch must’ve thought himself to be smarter than he really was. He wouldn’t be lying to the circle otherwise. “And the proof is?”

“Someone hacked into my surveillance camera. There’s no proof,” Cillian said, pursing his lips as if that would somehow make up for his lack of evidence to back up his accusations.

“We cannot help you if you do not have any evidence to back up your accusations, Moore,” Matteo chimed in. “Backing you up without evidence would be asking to make the Bratva our enemies. We cannot afford a war with them right now.”

“I have evidence you attacked my club, destroyed my building, and injured some of my men.” Lev removed the flash drive he duplicated and placed it on the table. “Did you think buying the event planning company I work with and threatening him was a brilliant plan?”

Matteo and Luca exchanged glances. Matteo picked up the flash drive and made a call to one of his men to bring a laptop.

A moment later, the man arrived and inserted the flash drive into the laptop. Silence fell in the room as he played the audio file from Darnell’s office.

Luca shook his head disapprovingly after listening to the audio. “You’re playing a dangerous game, boy,” he said to Cillian.

Cillian laughed manically, rubbing his stubble. “I only retaliated. Was I wrong to do that?”

Matteo narrowed his eyes on Cillian. “What do you mean you only retaliated?”

Cillian made a call to one of his men outside.

His right-hand man, Owen, entered the room, holding a burner phone and CCTV footage of Ilya in one of Cillian’s warehouses.

Something was wrong—Lev could feel it rattle his bones. Cillian had come prepared, but that wasn’t the problem. Why did Ilya go to the warehouse alone? And how come he’d never mentioned it?

“That is proof enough that the Bratva invaded my territory first.” Cillian turned to face Lev. He had a triumphant smile on his face. “You must’ve thought you could take me down with a mere audio recording, but you’re wrong. You’re no match for me, Nikolai. I am not Dostoevsky.”

“How the hell did you get that footage,” Lev asked, almost growling with rage. Did Cillian set Ilya up? That was the only sensible explanation he could muster.

He wouldn’t know unless he asked Ilya himself.

“The Bratva overstepped their boundaries first. They invaded my territories and attacked my warehouse. It’s only right that I fight back and protect my family.” He looked at each of the men. “Does anyone have any objections?”

The other two men thought for a moment, and then they whispered something no one else could hear to each other.

Luca was the first to speak when they returned their attention to the room. “Turns out this is more complicated than it appears.”

“Make peace within yourselves or fight it out. We will not intervene regardless of what choice you both make.”

With that, the two older men got up and left the room.

Once they closed the door behind them, Cillian got to his feet. He smiled smugly as he smothered his suit. “The next time we see, it will be with my bullet drilling a hole in your skull, Nikolai. I hope it is soon enough.”

“Don’t be too hopeful, Moore. I’ll get to the bottom of whatever stunt you pulled here today.” He raised himself to his feet and inched closer to Cillian. “You better be ready for me.”

He turned around and started for the door before Cillian could say anything more. His nostrils flared and his fist tightened with rage that he could barely curtail.

Konstantin and Ilya rushed to him as soon as he left the room. “What happened?” Konstantin asked.

Lev ignored him and headed toward the elevator. His men followed him downstairs, where they got in their cars and drove back to the mansion.

“Ilya. Konstantin. Follow me,” Lev ordered when the car stopped at the mansion. He stepped out, turned away, and walked to his study, not caring if the two men were behind him. They had to be if they liked their heads on their necks.

He’d already settled in his mesh chair when the two men entered the study. They took each of the two swivel chairs across his desk.

Lev’s brows quirked as he asked, “When were you going to tell me about the little visit you paid Cillian Moore?”

Konstantin lifted his head. His dark eyes gleamed with confusion, and then slowly, he craned his neck to Ilya.

Ilya stood up immediately and kept his gaze fixed on Lev. “I’m sorry I hid it from you, Chief. I couldn’t bring it up until I was certain what happened that night.”

“Explain yourself,” Lev ordered, his patience running thin.

Ilya had put him in an awkward spot by keeping such a vital piece of information from him. Whatever his excuse was, it better be worth it.

“I received a text the night before the attack from a random number.” He took out his phone, scrolled through it, and placed it on Ilya’s desk. “I thought our men were being attacked, but there was no one there when I arrived.”

Lev dragged his attention to Konstantin. “Did you know about this?”

Konstantin shook his head.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” Lev asked, returning his attention to Ilya.

“Because you already had a lot going through your mind. I didn’t want to bother you until I had proof of who exactly sent that text and their intention.”

“What have you found so far?” Lev asked.

Ilya lowered his head. “Whoever sent the text was really careful not to get caught; I couldn’t trace the IP address no matter how hard I tried.”

“So, you’ve got nothing?”

Ilya nodded.’

“Why should I believe you?” Lev sat forward and steepled his fingers in front of him. “You could be a traitor for all I know.”

“I am not, Boss. I swear to you, that is all that happened.” He got on his knees quickly. “I’ll find out who was behind it and report back to you. Please, just give me a chance to do so.”

“You have a week,” Lev said. “You’re a dead man if you don’t give me a reasonable explanation by then.”

“Thank you, Boss.”

“Leave us.”

Ilya left the room.

Konstantin looked back and forth between the door Ilya had disappeared from and Lev. “What the hell was that about?”

“You heard the conversation.” Lev raked his fingers through his hair. “That Irish asshole got me clean this time. He’d set everything up and waited until I walked right into it before he pulled his card.”

“Do you really think Ilya had something to do with it?” Lev asked cautiously. “It could be a setup to drive a wedge between the two of you.”

“It could be, but I cannot trust anyone now.” Lev rubbed his thumb over his jaw as he thought. “I’ll see what he comes up with. Whether or not his life is worth spearing will depend on that.”

Konstantin agreed with a nod. “That’s fair enough. How are we going to handle Cillian now?”

Lev sighed. “He took me by surprise with the stunt he pulled, but I still have him right where I wanted him. We’re at war with the Irish mob now, and the other leaders will not intervene.”

Konstantin nodded. “Do you want me to have Ilya followed?”

“It’s not necessary.” Lev pushed up from his chair. “Get some of the men to keep an eye on Cillian. I want to be updated on every move he makes and who he meets.”

“Don’t you think it is strange Cillian knew your next move?” Konstantin propped his hand on the desk. “Think about it.”

Cillian wasn’t witty or smart. His IQ was less than what anyone would expect from a mafia boss leading thousands of men. Whether or not Cillian had suddenly become bright or if someone from the Bratva had betrayed Lev was something he would have to find out.

“Who do you suspect?”

Konstantin bit hard on his bottom lips as if whatever he wanted to say was stuck in his throat. After a second that felt like forever, he finally said, “Your wife.”

“What does my wife have to do with this?” Lev asked, his eyes narrowing as he dared Konstantin to continue.

“A lot has been happening since you—”

Lev raised a hand to stop him before he could say anything more. “A lot had been happening before we even met. I like you as a friend, Konstantin. But you’ll lose your fucking tongue next time you accuse my wife of betraying me.”

“I’m sorry, Chief.”

“Keep an eye on the other bosses too. I don’t trust them to keep to their words and not pick a side. Just in case they do, we need to be ready so we don’t end up at a disadvantage.”

No one chose sides at the meeting, but it was natural that they would lean toward some side or the other, and nobody wanted to be on the losing side. If anything, a war between the Bratva and Irish mob would benefit the other mafia families since both sides would be desperate for business partners.

Lev needed to make sure he brought the most important men to his side. He had his eyes on Daniel and Matteo. They were more influential and made good business partners.

But he needed to discuss it with Mikhail.

“Does the boss know about this new development?” Konstantin asked, rising to his feet and popping one hip on the desk in front of him.

“I’m having dinner with him this weekend. I’ll inform him about the war when we meet.”

It was for formality’s sake. Mikhail knew the war was inevitable. It’d been looming since he took down Dostoevsky. It was time for Lev to unleash the wrath of the Bratva on those Irish rats.