White Crime: A Kat Makris Greek Mafia Novel by Alex A. King

Author:Alex A. King [King, Alex A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-08-24T04:00:00+00:00

The road kept on going but the tracksuits took a hard left, bumping along a dirt road. From the way the dirt didn’t form a sepia cloud behind us, I guessed the ground was as hard and cold as it looked. We crunched over a hill that was basically a ground nipple, and rolled toward a dense cluster of wooden cottages, erected on the flat and invisible from the main road. In the center there was a longhouse. Wood. Few windows. Smoke from a chimney twisting toward the sky. All the cottages were smoking. Central heating was a fireplace or maybe a wood burning oven. The trees surrounding the patch of civilization held their branches up and out like this was a stickup.

“This is my family home,” Viktor said with pride.

Hera smirked. “Dig a hole, fill it with skata, spit in it, and it will be this place.”

We stopped. When we got out, an army was waiting. The same army that had scared off Uncle Kostas’s men. Men, women, and at the edge that same yak herder. Everyone was basically a fuzzy hat, a heavy coat, and a face sandwiched in between. It was easy to separate the women from the men because the women’s faces looked painted on with a heavy brush.

“Viktor!” one bright, musical woman’s voice said.

Everybody swarmed Viktor. The chatter turned Russian.

The least impressed person was Donk. “Russian women are not very sexy.”

“Nobody is sexy with a huge coat on,” I said. “Wow, Viktor is really popular. His family must like him.”

“Viktor is the only boy. To his family he is Zeus,” Hera told me.

“Zeus was kind of a dick to his family.”

“Exactly.”

“Anything else I should know?”

“Trust nobody, and get a food taster.”

“Did they poison you?”

“Laxatives.”

I winced.

Not Marika—she laughed. “I would pay good money to see that.”

“I would not eat the chocolate if I were you,” Hera said, her face sour. “Although looking at you, I can see you would not be able to help yourself.”

A hat and coat sidled up to us. Her face had experienced an unfortunate collision with a Sephora truck and she had Viktor’s piercing blue eyes. “When Hera came, we gave her diarrhea for a week.”

“Free weight loss,” Hera said.

I looked at her. “There is something seriously wrong with you.”

“Already I like you,” the hat and coat said. “I am Veronika, Viktor’s youngest sister.” She looked me over. “You have been to see Alena, yes?” She threaded her arm through mine. “Come. I will introduce you to everyone who matters.”

Marika was blinking like someone had clubbed her over the head, so I grabbed her hand and pulled her along with me. Veronika checked her out.

“You must be Katerina’s best friend. Good that Viktor thought to bring you. Usually he forgets those small details.”

Marika didn’t say a word. Instead she huffed like she wasn’t sure whether to be happy or annoyed that Veronika had called her a small detail.

Veronika threaded us through the cottages and up the longhouse’s three wooden steps. “In this family there is only one person who truly matters, besides Viktor,” she explained.

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