Glazov's Legacy (Born Bratva Book 2) (18 page)

Kathleen

I ease down into the chair on the opposite side of Katrina’s desk while she shuts the door to give us more privacy.

After she sits down, I watch as she bites her bottom lip. She looks nervous, like she’s trying to muster up the courage to tell me something I’m not going to want to hear.

“We have a program here that works with college students. There’s an annual competition for up-and-coming junior journalists and authors where they submit an exposé, and they stand a chance of winning cash to put toward their tuition. As you can imagine, the competition is fierce. I’m able to freelance and rent out my own office here because I’ve spent years building my following. Writing, journalism, even blogging—they are all extremely competitive fields. From the beginning of a writer’s career, until the day he retires, it’s cutthroat. It doesn’t take long for students to realize just how brutal this business can be. They either develop an edge, or they quit the game early because they can’t handle the ruthlessness of the industry.”

“Yeah, you just happened to make your money off Novak’s life story.”

Katrina’s eyes squint and her demeanor goes cold. Knowing immediately I have said the wrong thing, I wait for her response.

“Let’s get this straight right now. I based my novel on Novak, but it was fiction. Half that fucking money became his when he forced my hand in marriage. Novak is no angel in this game we’ve played together. I was an established writer before I ever met your husband’s cousin. Granted, lines were crossed when writing that story, but for your information, I only used one sex scene from his diary. I may have capitalized on it, but the rest of that story was mine. Novak made a lot of fucking money for being my muse. He used the fact that I took his one paragraph and treated me like I had committed some unpardonable sin, forcing me to marry him in retribution.”

“Well, it was plagiarism, even if it was only one paragraph,” I reply, refusing to back down from my beliefs.

“You’re right, and I have anguished over that. I’ve asked his forgiveness for it as well. I made a spur of the moment decision that was wrong, and I take full responsibility for it. I republished the book and named him as co-author. I would never do anything like that again. We’ve all made mistakes, Kathleen. I stood up and told my readers that paragraph was Novak’s writing. My readers see it the same way as I do—a dysfunctional, fucked-up, heinously beautiful love story. I love my husband, and the games we subject each other to are nothing but aphrodisiacs for bedroom play. You know how these guys roll.”

“Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right. I’m not insinuating you steal people’s work to write your books. It’s obvious you’re talented. It all worked out in the end, and it isn’t like he didn’t make a ton of money riding on your coattails. It’s tit for tat as far as I’m concerned. I’m well aware Novak is no innocent victim in this scenario. If he hadn’t wanted that book to still be in publication, he would have destroyed your reputation, had it removed from every bookshelf in the country, and sued you; he could have possibly even killed you. Clearly, he read it, and even knowing the only thing you used was the one paragraph about kink, Novak saw it as a chance to blackmail you. He fell in love with you and used the plagiarism the same way Glazov used a gambling debt against me. Bratva men don’t come at women with champagne and roses. They come with black roses, Glocks, switchblades, and game because they just take what they want.”

I watch her lean back in her chair like she’s satisfied with my answer. She’s a talented author and doesn’t need Novak or anyone else to be successful. I had only been playing with her, but I respect her even more now for standing up to me. More than that, I respect her for the fact that she owned her mistake and came clean with her readers. I know they love her more for it as well.

I’ve been watching her from the sidelines, and I stalk her social pages. She takes the time to answer her fans and to make posts for them, thanking them for believing in her dreams. I have seen firsthand how much her readers mean to her, and even Novak doesn’t get in the way of her relationship with them. I don’t have a hard time believing it was important to her to come clean and right her wrong in the eyes of her followers. She makes herself accessible and real; they love her all the more for it. Her voice interrupts my musings.

“I’ll give you three guesses what Logan is doing her exposé on.”

A wave of nausea rushes over me.

“Oh, God. Please, no, no, no.”

Horrified, I watch as Katrina nods her head, confirming my fears.

“You got it… Russian gangsters and their various Bratva cells.”

Glazov

Novak and I are still in my office when my head of security comes in, escorting the man who saved Ivan’s nephew. I immediately stand up and extend my hand to shake his. The terrified look in his eyes suggests that he’s clueless as to why he’s been brought here. My security team knows better than to say anything except for,
Mr. Glazov requests your presence.
What can I say? My reputation precedes me. The public knows who I am, even if they’ve never personally laid eyes on me. Judging by the fear in this man’s eyes, he’s definitely heard of me.

After directing my maid to get him a coffee to his liking, I waste no time addressing the reason he’s been brought here.

“Mr. Mathews, I’m certain I don’t need to tell you that anything we discuss in this room needs to stay just amongst the three of us.”

I wave my hand in Novak’s direction. The man nods his head up and down in such an exaggerated manner, he reminds me of a Bobblehead doll.

“First of all, I would like to thank you. The man you rescued is the nephew of one of my most loyal employees. The woman that was with him is his girlfriend. I don’t think I need to elaborate on what her fate would have been had you not intervened.”

The man’s head is now moving side to side, letting me know he understands just how bad things could have gone for the girl.

“As a way of thanking you…”

He interrupts, “Oh no, Mr. Glazov, that won’t be necessary.”

I patiently allow him to finish before I cut my eyes at him and reply.

“It’s non-negotiable.”

“I-I… But, I…”

“And you’re interrupting me, Mr. Mathews.”

I watch in amusement as his face floods crimson. Now we’re getting somewhere.

Once again, he’s nodding his head like a Bobblehead doll. I’d like to get finished with this fucking interview sometime today. I take a deep breath, striving not to lose my patience with the man I consider to be a hero.

“I’ll be paying a year of your daughter’s rent for her salon.”

I lean forward to look the man directly in the eye.

“Now, I would like to hire you to manage the janitorial services for my organization. Do I need to explain the importance of discretion with this job?”

He shakes his head slowly from side to side.

“Good, one of my employees will be contacting you to arrange everything. That will be all, Mr. Mathews. Thank you.”

I stand, extending my hand to shake his before he leaves. The guy is still shaking his head. Oh well, at least he’s agreeable; it will get him far. If he’s compliant and knows how to keep his mouth shut, he’ll do fine. If not, he’ll be dead.

“He looked like a Bobblehead doll. Damn, Glazov, I was scared he was going to shit his pants. What have you done to the people in this town? You should be ashamed!”

He’s smacking his leg, laughing hysterically.

“Fuck you, Novak. You’re such an adolescent. Let me know when you’re ready to talk business.”

“Hey, you have my undivided attention.”

“I doubt that.”

I roll my eyes before bringing up the next issue at hand.

“Start from the streets, and work your way in to family members. I want any info you can find on these redneck, backwoods fucks. I want to know where they meet, where their families are, and the location of every fucking member in their gang.”

I take a moment to intently eye my cousin.

“I don’t need to tell you how much Ivan has done for this organization. Loyalty such as that man has shown deserves unwavering devotion from our cell in return.”

“I know, man. The guy is true Bratva, through and through. By the time my team and I finish sweeping the streets, there won’t be a place left where they can hide. With the tactics we use, even their mothers won’t be willing to hide them from us.”

What Novak is saying is true. Besides me, nobody can work the streets like him. Knowing Novak is in charge of finding the son of a bitch helps put my mind at ease. He doesn’t exaggerate, and I know his statement about even mothers turning on their sons is one of truth. More than once, that had been the outcome.

“Yes, in a very short period of time, they will be nothing but a distant memory…”