Diamonds Dancing

Forty Four

There were a lot of strange questions he had been asked in his thirty-four years of existence, but the one he heard slither out of the Englishman's mouth came to be, by far, his weirdest to date.

"Have you ever been linked to the Russian mafia?"

The music producer and father of two barely opened the studio door, unfazed by the absurd greeting. There were two gift bags in the man's hand, he didn't need to ask to know who they were for.

It was as if he was noticing more and more every day just how lucky his daughters were, he hated to admit it but they were spoiled rotten by everyone he knew.

He answered honestly, figuring he needn't sugarcoat the truth. "I know Nikolai Tsezar, if that's what you're asking."

It was true, the so-called 'businessman' who was best known for his string of hotels was good friends with him. It didn't take a genius to guess that Tsezar, was the same Tsezar many Russians feared as one of the most deadly underworld bosses.

Slater had met him after an incident occurred in his hometown and the rest was history. Everyone knew everyone, and therefore, he did not think it was a big deal.

Devin, who believed it to be the biggest deal, thrust a smartphone into his face in which a recent article relating to the very issue was pulled up.

He skimmed the words over, reading the contents before he chuckled dryly. "So, people think I'm in the mafia now?" He couldn't fathom how ridiculous it all was.

It was always something new, he mused.

His cautious friend shrugged, taking a seat on the sofa and setting the gift bags down. "I mean you've been pictured with Nikolai Tsezar, a supposed big time Russian mafia boss. I'd be asking questions too, bro."

"Anyone who works in Russia, knows Tsezar, bro." Slater mocked, stating the obvious. It was not breaking news that they knew of each other, but clearly, he was not in the mafia himself. He worked with all kinds of artists, making music—how that connected him to the mob was lost on him. "And anyway, how would you know anything about Bratva?"

If he was going down memory lane, the real reason he knew of the deadly man was due to his old misdemeanour.

He had stolen something from the chilling man as a teenager, he could not remember what he had taken since time had passed by since then but he remembered owing his dues like anyone else who met the mobster.

And then a couple of years went by, and they were at the same exclusive after-party together. By now, he had made a name for himself in the industry and when he reintroduced himself to the man, Tsezar simply laughed the memory off and offered him a shitload of coke as a peace offering.

It was safe to say it was a messy night, certainly one for the books.

"I have access to the internet, fucker. Plus, it's interesting."

He was working from home today, his hungover state was not something he wanted the paparazzi to catch sight of.

After the way breakfast got on, the girls were tucked away into their study rooms with their tutors for the rest of the day and he was left to wonder if he was a bad father for taking away from their childhood.