Viktor
The city bled light through the rain - Moscow wearing its usual winter armor of glass and steel, slick with ice. The Maybach glided down Kutuzovsky Prospekt like a black ghost, wipers clicking in steady rhythm. Viktor Loskutov leaned back in the leather seat, cigar unlit between his fingers, phone pressed to his ear.
“Da, Katerina,” he murmured, voice calm, practiced. “If you need another card, I’ll have Dmitri arrange it.”
Her laughter poured through the line, bright and hollow. He stared out the window, watched neon blur into streaks. 'She laughs for everyone but me.'
He adjusted the cuff of his suit - black, tailored, perfect. The white jacket hung loose on his shoulders, a symbol more than comfort. Viktor Igorevich Loskutov, head of the Loskutov Bratva, Besomar to those who whispered his name like a curse. Moscow’s phantom king.
“I said, you never listen,” his wife teased.
“No,” he said quietly, “I listen too well.”
He ended the call before she could reply. The silence returned, thick and heavy, broken only by the rain hammering against the glass. He thought of nothing - or tried to. Brain's were funny things. Wandered to places he didn't want to think about. Not know.
The driver cursed suddenly. Tires screeched, a shadow lunging out of the shadows in front of the car.
“Da, Katerina,” he murmured, voice calm, practiced. “If you need another card, I’ll have Dmitri arrange it.”
Her laughter poured through the line, bright and hollow. He stared out the window, watched neon blur into streaks. 'She laughs for everyone but me.'
He adjusted the cuff of his suit - black, tailored, perfect. The white jacket hung loose on his shoulders, a symbol more than comfort. Viktor Igorevich Loskutov, head of the Loskutov Bratva, Besomar to those who whispered his name like a curse. Moscow’s phantom king.
“I said, you never listen,” his wife teased.
“No,” he said quietly, “I listen too well.”
He ended the call before she could reply. The silence returned, thick and heavy, broken only by the rain hammering against the glass. He thought of nothing - or tried to. Brain's were funny things. Wandered to places he didn't want to think about. Not know.
The driver cursed suddenly. Tires screeched, a shadow lunging out of the shadows in front of the car.
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