of this guy that he’s not someone I’m going to have to worry about. He’s young, only twenty-four, with a five o’clock shadow to try to make himself look older. It doesn’t help though, because even with the hair on his face, the youth is in his eyes. He’s never hurt anyone before and he sleeps well at night. He’s not haunted by the faces of the men he’s killed. He’s not in the lifestyle, he just wants people to think he is because of who his relatives are . . . were.
“Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Collazo,” Abram says as we greet them. He doesn’t extend his hand, so neither do I.
“The pleasure’s mine,” I reply.
“Please. Sit.”
The four of us sit down and order champagne, and a full two minutes goes by before either of us says anything. It’s a test to see who’ll break the silence first, and there’s no chance it’ll be me. We’ll sit in this bitch all night before I speak first.
Finally, Abram relents and speaks up.
“Alright, let’s not waste each other’s time, Mr. Collazo. I know why you’re here,” he says before pausing to sip his champagne. He’s confident. “And your visit is quite unnecessary, because there’s no way I’m selling my casino.”
I exhale to steady myself.
“That’s not the way I hoped this conversation would start, Mr. Baskov,” I begin, making sure to never break eye contact. “I know you have your pride, but you’re a very rich young man. You could buy another casino without me buying you out of this one, so there’s no need for us to start off on the wrong foot.”
“I don’t care what foot we start on. All that matters to me is that you know I’m not selling, and now that I’ve said that to your face and you’ve heard it straight from my mouth, there’s no need for us to continue this conversation.” Just like that, Abram and his goon stand up like they’re leaving.
But they’re not.
I clear my throat.
“You don’t know me very well, and I’d hate for you to get the wrong impression, so it’s important that I’m honest with you,” I begin, crossing one leg over the other. “I’m not impressed by your tattoos, or your little bodyguard in the suit that’s two sizes too small to try to make himself look bigger. I’m also not impressed with your money, especially since the only reason you have any is because you got a nice, fat inheritance and life insurance when your lunatic uncle, Ilia Baskov, murdered your pussy of a father so he could partner up with his enemy, Kelvin Carter, and become boss of the family. Which was completely pointless, because your uncle ended up getting killed in a shootout with Chicago PD anyway. I know you, Abram. You didn’t earn any of this shit, you didn’t work for it. It was handed to you, and I’m not fucking impressed. So, you can spare me the little rich kid attitude, and sit the fuck down before I make a scene in front of all your guests.”
Abram looks stunned, but he looks downright flabbergasted when he glances at Tommy and sees he has his hand in his jacket pocket holding one of his two nine millimeters.
Abram hesitates for a second, before finally exhaling.
“Sest’, Aleks,” he says to his bodyguard in Russian. They both sit, and Abram takes another sip of his champagne. “You have my full attention, Mr. Collazo.”
“Good.” I nod to Tommy and he tucks his pistol back into its harness. “Now, here’s the deal I’m offering. I’ll buy you out of your ownership of Lumiere Place for five million dollars, which is overpriced for the inconvenience of having to sell quickly and without preparation. See, I’m nice. Your staff and everything else stays in place for now. The only thing that goes is you. You sign it over to me, you take the money and pile it in with the rest of your inheritance so you can buy another hotel, preferably outside of St. Louis, because if you think you can escape your family’s fucked up past in Chicago by settling down here, you’re crazier than that suit looks on ‘ole Alex here.”
Abram looks pissed. He sticks his pointy nose up in the air and breathes in like the oxygen gives him confidence, and he needs all he can get. He sips the champagne again before finally sitting back and crossing his legs, mirroring me.