Perfect Monster (The Oligarchs)
“Why did you bring us all together like this?” Giatno demanded. “It was bad enough being in the same room as these brutish thugs during that ill-fated party.”
“You’re meant to be allies and you can’t even be in the same room together. I hope you both understand how much that displeases me.”
A ripple ran through the room. It was hard to miss. The tension ratcheted up, like making Roman unhappy was a dangerous thing to do.
Kir spoke first. “It is nothing against you, Roman. Only that I do not trust the Italians, not since the young Manzi murdered that girl.”
“It was a damn accident,” Giatno said, pounding his hands on the table.
“Enough.” Roman rubbed his face. “I called you both here for a purpose. Now be quiet and listen.”
I watched the two gang leaders go silent. I almost couldn’t believe it—Roman dominated the room simply by standing before them and speaking. These were hardened men, the kind of criminals used to handling disrespect swiftly and violently, and yet Roman spoke to them like they were both children.
I began to understand him, at least a little bit. Any man that could wield this kind of control and power was incredibly dangerous.
Incredibly terrifying.
“I don’t want to linger here longer than necessary. You will both listen to my orders and accept them. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Roman,” Kir said and looked at Giatno. “Though I doubt this one’s ability to be loyal.”
“I’m loyal, you Russian son of a—“
“Giatno. Speak out of turn again and I will kill two of your men.” Silence fell heavily. “Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Roman.” Giatno glowered, but lowered his chin.
“Kir, you will send twenty men to Atlanta. Push back the MacKenna there, or at least make their business dealings as difficult as possible. Giatno, you will send twenty men to Chicago and do the same. I cannot have them taking more territory.”
“It will be done,” Kir said sharply.
Giatno leaned back and crossed his arms. “You know it will be difficult for me. I still have half of my crew out searching for Manzi. The boy’s been missing ever since Dia was killed.”
“You mean, ever since your idiot son shot her in the head.” Roman tared down at Giatno.
Anger flashed in Giatno’s eyes, but he didn’t dispute it.
“As always, I’ve solved your problem. I spoke with Chale Ramos, and he’s willing to overlook Dia so long as is lieutenant is compensated, and his family is given territory for their trouble. Dia was going to be an important tool for them in the future, and your disgusting little offspring took that from them.”
“Dia brought this on herself. She’s been fucking half the MacKenna family for months. That slut—“
“Erick.” Roman snapped his fingers.
The door opened. Erick walked inside. I didn’t even now he was in the building.
Roman pointed at one of the Italians at random. “Kill him.”
“Roman.” Giatno stood up. The marked man stared around him with wild eyes. “You can’t do this. I told you—“
Erick walked forward, drew a knife from a sheath at his hip, grabbed the Italian man by the hair, yanked back his head, and cut his throat ear to ear. Blood bubbled up, thick and red, and Erick danced back to avoid getting too much of it all over his clothes.
Chaos broke out. The Italian man choked and gagged and fell forward onto the desk. The man at either side of him leapt to their feet , drawing guns. The Russians stood, drawing their own weapons, shouting at the Italians to put their weapons away, who shouted back the same thing, and Roman stood at the head of the table and stared at Giatno, who was ashen-faced and completely immobile, like he was frozen in fear.
“Put down the guns.” Roman’s voice wasn’t any louder, but it managed to cut through the chaos. Kir and his people reacted first, reluctantly standing down. The Italians reacted next, after a nod from Giatno.
The dead Italian man lay in a pool of his own blood, unmoving.
Erick wiped his knife on his shirt and slipped it back into the sheath.
“I said two would die. I took one. Do I have to take another?”
“No, Roman.” Giatno sounded chastened, quiet.
“You will give Chale the territory. You will pay him the money. And you will bring Manzi to the meeting to apologize in person.”
Giatno’s jaw flex, but he nodded. “It will be done.”
“Good. Twenty men to Chicago. Understood?”
“Yes, Roman.”
“Get that fucking body out of here. Erick will help clean up the mess.” Roman nodded to Erick, who grinned back.
“Okay boys, let’s get going. This isn’t the first corpse we’ve disposed of in here, so I’ve got a system. You and you, big lads, grab his legs, I’ll get the arms since I’m already covered in blood.”
I pulled my knees up to my chest and stared as the Italians filed out of the room, carrying their fallen comrade like a stack of firewood. Giatno hesitated at the door and looked back at Roman with pure loathing in his eyes, and Roman only looked back until Giatno turned and left.