Page 5 of Ash

Besides, finding a woman who was capable of being a partner to a man like me wouldn’t be easy, even without the darkness consuming me. The type of life I led wasn’t for everyone.

There were some women, like my sister, who were brought up in families like mine and were used to my lifestyle, but I hadn’t met one yet that I wanted for my own, and I definitely didn’t want an arranged marriage. If I married, I wanted it to be for love. I doubted very much that love was in my future, though. With the darkness inside me, I thought that was probably for the best.

After I chatted with Marcie, I grabbed a coffee with Anton to discuss the extra security arrangements for tomorrow night. Some of his men would be outside, and others scattered throughout the club along with our own guys. Romi would be solely responsible for Sonia’s safety. My brothers Miki, Marco, and I, along with our friend Luca, were tasked with schmoozing the guests. A task I hated but would do out of necessity. This meant that we’d be somewhat distracted, so I arranged for Anton himself to work the room both before and during the event, keeping an eye on everything. With the recent threats we’d been facing, I didn’t want to take any chances.

“So, what happened with the Polish lot to cause the current issues then?” Anton asked as we stood to leave.

“Two of Janusz Glowacki’s men were caught stealing from our street team again and trying to muscle in on our territory,” I said.

Anton had been around my family long enough to see and hear things that let him know the rumours about us were true, but his knowledge was still somewhat limited, for his own good more than anything. The less he knew, the more legit he could stay, but I always told him the basics.

My family were Russian Mafia, Bratva. We ran most of the South of England and the south and west of London. My father, Alexi Rominov, was the Bratva Pakhan until his death. My older brother, Mikhail, who we call Miki, now held that position. I was his second and oversaw security and most of the legitimate side of our businesses. Our younger brother Marko was our Intelligence officer, and our cousin Romi was our Enforcer and head of our team of personal bodyguards.

“Thought you guys had an alliance of sorts? Is that shot out of the water then?” he asked.

“Seems someone wants us to think that. Somebody is setting Glowacki up, and the guys involved were double-crossing him while carrying out the attacks on us,” I told him.

“Turns out they believed they were working for the Albanians, although something doesn’t quite ring true about that; I doubt they are strong enough.”

The Albanians certainly hated us after we almost wiped them out before, and they might be slowly rebuilding, but they were not in a position to go up against both us and Glowacki.

“The alternative is that they have formed an alliance of their own with someone, but you know, the Albanians, ruthless and brutal bastards who don’t play well with others. So, I can’t see that happening.”

“Nevertheless, the guys stuck to their story until the end, so whether the Albanians are involved or not, that seems to be what they believed. It is more likely someone wants us to believe the Poles and the Albanians are working together. Someone not too bright!”

“Well, if not Glowacki or the Albanians, who do you think is involved then?” he questioned.

“My money is on the Somali lot.”

He shook his head and sighed. “Seriously, those Malia Boys never seem to learn, do they?”

“No, they don’t. We have gone easy on them in the past so as not to upset the balance of power between them, the Albanians, and the Broxley Estate Boys, but it seems like it’s time we finally taught them a lesson,” I replied.

“Well, you know I am legit, but you are like a brother to me, Ash, and if you need me, bro, I’m there for you!” he said. “I haven’t forgotten our pact.”

Years ago, when we were all kids, Miki, his best friend Luca, Marko, Anton, Romi, and I all hung around together, and we entered a Blood Brother pact. It was a bit like the thing that the Native Americans did years ago. We cut our fingers and merged blood with each other, vowing to be blood brothers and have one another’s backs forever. So, I knew I could count on him.

“I appreciate that, but I promised when you started your firm that if I hired you, I would try to keep you out of things that are less than lawful, and I will try my best to keep that promise. See you tomorrow night,” I told him, clapping him on the back as we headed out to the street.

I dwelled on the subject of who was behind the attacks all the way back to the apartment to collect my car.

One thing I was sure of: it wasn’t the Polish.

The Polish Mafia and Bratva had been rivals even before we came to the UK. When Janusz Glowacki took over, he was young and ambitious and had tried, on several occasions, to muscle in on our territory, but my father subdued him quickly each time.

Despite that, both men held a grudging respect for each other as neither Brotherhood ran girls nor did any form of human trafficking. We kept to the same moral code that despite what was going on, you didn’t touch women and children, even those of rival families. Only the Italians, some sections of the Irish Mafia, and one or two other gangs I knew of had similar views.

So, over the years, they learned to tolerate each other and generally attempted to steer clear of the other’s business. However, when Glowacki’s eldest son and my folks were murdered by the Albanians five years ago, we went from rivals who barely tolerated each other to needing one another. In our joint grief, an alliance was formed.

At the time, it was necessary, to prevent the Albanians from muscling in on both our territories and to be able to win a war we could not have handled on our own. So, we formed the alliance to bolster numbers and resources. Joining forces had its desired effect and the deaths of our family members were avenged.

Unfortunately, we were not quite strong enough to wipe them out entirely, but the Albanians took a massive hit to both their numbers and business. They were left leaderless and in chaos for some time as members fought from within to take over. They remained weakened even now.

However, with the initial threat to our families over, the alliance could have fallen apart, but instead, the ties formed in desperation held strong. Despite facing a devastating blow a couple of years ago that could have torn the alliance apart, it had, in fact, gone from strength to strength since then.

I hoped that continued. I respected Glowacki and his sons and liked them, actually. Still, if my latest information was accurate, the alliance not only needed to remain strong, but it looked like we might need to think of a way to build an even closer bond with the Polish. A war was coming, I knew it, and we’d need the Polish on our side to win. We were definitely stronger together. We trusted Glowacki, and he trusted us. That was a rare thing in our line of business.

While we were Bratva, we nevertheless made the majority of our money from legitimate business and white-collar crime these days, especially money laundering and cyber crime.