Anatoly's Retribution: Book One (The Medlov Men 5) by Latrivia Welch & Latrivia S. Nelson

Author:Latrivia Welch & Latrivia S. Nelson [Welch, Latrivia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: RiverHouse Publishing, LLC
Published: 2017-09-26T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Like Father, Like Sons…

I f Dmitry had his way, he would exist happily as a legitimate business owner with his more than profitable businesses around the world, but there was still the other side of his life and his empire, which was a dark world of arms dealing, diamond trafficking and blackmail run by his powerful faction of the Vory v Zakone.

He couldn’t deny this part of him, nor did he want to. Through blood, sweat and tears, he had built his empire from nothing to something, and planned to leave it to his son and nephew once he retired.

In the meantime, however, he had a job to do as the Czar of the Russian mafia underworld. And nothing said leadership more than doing it yourself, especially when someone thought you were going soft. That was a career killer. If a man didn’t show his strength every once in a while, someone got ideas about taking over.

“Stop here,” he ordered his driver from the back seat of his blacked-out Land Rover. Pulling a shiny customized Glock from his gun holster, he glanced over at Gabriel, who was sitting beside him with his gun already out. “You ready?”

“Yep,” Gabriel answered, opening his door.

They stepped out into the night in front of a large mansion that belonged to Troy Campbell, a self-made millionaire who was using his resources to lead the Neo-Nazi movement in Tennessee.

Dmitry was a business man, and normally didn’t pass judgement on anyone, but this guy had pushed all of his buttons. There was an unspoken rule. No one encroached on Dmitry’s territory and this was his territory. Campbell had not only been stock piling automatic weapons by the thousands, he was also buying them from a contact in Texas, and turning around and selling those weapons to customers outside of his demented purview right her under Dmitry’s nose.

Big mistake.

Dmitry had sent a warning in the form of a visit to Campbell while he was at his private golf course. One of his soldiers explained to the right-wing nutcase while he stood on the fifteenth hole with his friends that selling to the people who normally bought from the Medlov’s’ was a very bad decision.

But the man didn’t listen. He brushed off the warning, called his man a commie bastard and demanded he leave his club.

Okay. He needed to make himself clearer this time.

The car doors slammed shut around Dmitry and his convoy of his men, all armed to the teeth, moved forward with him as he made his way through the manicured lawn up to the large porch of the plantation style home.

A confederate flag danced in the wind proudly until Gabriel stepped up on the stairs, grabbed the pole and with one hand snatched it out of the wood. He threw it down on the ground and cocked his shotgun. Pointing the barrel at the reinforced steel door, he pulled the trigger.

The front door flew off its hinges, glass exploded across the foyer and the small army advanced through the entrance like a heard of elephants.

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