XI: This is what we call a freak ouuuut
It couldn't be. It couldn't be. It couldn't be.
Ivan stared at the screen with a mixture of frustration and shock. Three more of his men arrested all in the same day. They were underlings, sure, but the location of their present job was meant to be secret.
Top secret.
And for the police to find them so suddenly wasn't only suspicious, but dangerous. Dangerous for his men, dangerous for the family, and most importantly, dangerous for him. After all, how fast would his reputation sink down the drain if it were to be let out that the new smooth and successful candidate for Mayor of the City was actually the Don of the Russian Mafia that had been terrorizing the very same people who would be voting for him?
Ivan sighed and sat back down in his chair, pulling it right up to the desk so he could rest his head against his palm and think.
But he'd be no good without a drink of some sort at hand. Where was the good vodka when you needed it? His rifling through the desk's drawers brought no results and with a frown he lifted his head and turned to the entrance to his study.
"Toris," he called out, knowing the younger man would be able to hear him through the door even with his voice so soft.
Ivan stared at the screen with a mixture of frustration and shock. Three more of his men arrested all in the same day. They were underlings, sure, but the location of their present job was meant to be secret.
Top secret.
And for the police to find them so suddenly wasn't only suspicious, but dangerous. Dangerous for his men, dangerous for the family, and most importantly, dangerous for him. After all, how fast would his reputation sink down the drain if it were to be let out that the new smooth and successful candidate for Mayor of the City was actually the Don of the Russian Mafia that had been terrorizing the very same people who would be voting for him?
Ivan sighed and sat back down in his chair, pulling it right up to the desk so he could rest his head against his palm and think.
But he'd be no good without a drink of some sort at hand. Where was the good vodka when you needed it? His rifling through the desk's drawers brought no results and with a frown he lifted his head and turned to the entrance to his study.
"Toris," he called out, knowing the younger man would be able to hear him through the door even with his voice so soft.