(Warning:Chapter contains violence)
The meeting is taking place tonight. I have prepared all that it takes to make the big men happy,delicious little snacks, different types of drinks, substances, dancers, beautiful eloquent women especially, since that was their preference, as I was told by the bar manager.
The guests arrived moments later….
Six men arrived, looking irritated, clinging to their suits arrogantly.
They were still arguing when they stepped inside. They had come for a meeting that had annoyed them; they believed it was a little obstacle that existed to be crushed eventually.
I came into the room and greeted them anyway.
"Welcome, gentlemen."
They acted like no one said anything at that moment . They glanced around, bored, and one of them started complaining that the host was late and that attitude was unacceptable.
I had to step in and apologize, and I pretended that I was left a message that he would arrive soon. I told them, in the meantime, we would offer services to take the stress of the day off, and that was how my little party started.
Fifteen minutes in. Slow jazz music, dim lights over their heads, dancers performing softly, beautiful women speaking and laughing seductively by their shoulders.The alcohol took off the edge. The ones who indulged in more did so. Jackets were taken off, their voices grew louder. One bragged, the other laughed harder. It was like they had never felt happiness like this before.
They bragged about lands like it was a piece of cake.
"The West estate is done," one said.
"They will fold," the other replied. "They always do."
I moved through the party like a conductor. I'm not going to lie, I liked that I could break the walls of successful men like these, adjusting their mess and encouraging them to indulge more.
Then the door opened.
Not violently, not dramatic….
It was like the air stopped for seconds and then it was like a stronger wave of air made everybody's hair on their body stand for a moment.
Cold air, then silence followed… conversations thinned out slowly….
A bunch of serious-faced muscled men, who I am sure were armed,you could peek the tattoos off their collars. They sent the women and dancers out in a dangerously quiet way, the opposite direction.
He then walked in, took the seat at the front, calm as ever, clean, composed, strangely scary. Tall. Still. Dark coat hanging from his shoulders like an afterthought. His face was beautiful in a way that felt intentional and cruel,sharp cheekbones, a mouth that looked practiced at both kindness and threat. His eyes were slow. Measuring. Not hungry.
Leonid came in like an angel but the kind that would be of destruction.
I immediately composed myself and said, "Welcome, sir."
He was staring at his watch, and I asked,
"Would you like anything, sir?"
He just looked dead at me, and that I knew was all I needed to hear as an answer.
The muscled men already surrounded the room. One took off Leonid's coat. I could not tell who.
The guests looked confused and uncomfortable.
Folders were dropped on the table. Six.
It got their attention.
One of them spoke out. "Mr. Leonid, we have been waiting for your arrival. What is this atmosphere? It is very unsettling."
He opened one of the folders slowly, hands shaking. It contained papers, like maps, blueprints. An estate outlined in red. The West Side. Everybody understood immediately.
Another guest tried, raised his voice, and tried to dismiss something or somebody. Before I came to the conclusion of who or what, the muscled men pounced on him…. In seconds, chairs, tables, bottles were flying everywhere, and Leonid's voice, clearing, made everything still….
He said, "You have been circling this estate four months now,permits delayed, meetings postponed, inflated prices every three business days…"
He smiled faintly.
"Wasting my time."
A guest tried to run out, and he was shot on both of his legs. His loud cries made me feel deaf. The guests turned red, panicky, sweating profusely….
Leonid says, "You misunderstand me."
"I am here to conclude not negotiate.… you have two more minutes."
I could feel their pride broken. They tried to resist, but the fear had already overwhelmed them, and one by one they reached for the pen and the folders.
The one on the floor who had been silenced asked for his too…. He was taken out immediately after he signed his…. Others were escorted out by the armed men.
Then it was just me and him.
I heard him say, "Regular… please, Maksim."
His eyes were still dangerous….
My body moved swiftly… and I got him the usual. He took it….
"You didn't scream, didn't interfere, did not try to run," Leonid said.
"I did not think I had a choice," said Maksim.
"You always do. Remember that," Leonid said.
His thick Russian accent made the statement more scary.
"You were scared?" he asked.
"Yes," Maksim said.
Leonid said, "Good, good."
He came close. Closer to me. If I made a movement, it'll be like I'm inside him. He seems unshaken. He smiles as if he's enjoying what was going on..
He says, "You're observant…. You read rooms, you understand when to move and when to stay still."
"I just serve…. at the bar… sir…" Maksim says.
"You serve people…. I would not warn you again about calling me that."
"Say my name," Leonid says while standing up and coming closer to me…he was few inches from my face and I could feel his breath and the rhythm in the chest was going crazy.He takes a sip from his drink.
I say it gently, like a prayer. "Leonid." He made me say it three more times.
Silence stretched between them, thick, intimate. Maksim became acutely aware of how alone they were. How quiet the building was. How the door behind them was locked.
"I could use someone like you," he said. "Someone who doesn't need to be told what's happening. Someone who knows when not to ask questions."
Maksim's voice was steady, but his hands were not. "And if I say no?"
Leonid's gaze dropped briefly to his hands, then back to Maksim's eyes.
"I'd finish my drink," he said calmly. "And leave."
There was a pause.
"But you won't."
Maksim met his eyes and held it despite being nervous himself. "Why are you so sure?"
Leonid leaned back, slow, confident and gave him space like it was a gift.
"Because you're still here," he said. "And because fear did not make you smaller tonight. It made you sharper."
He stood, adjusting his coat.
"Think about it," he added, voice low, almost kind. "I don't recruit often. And I don't repeat invitations."
As he turned to leave, he stopped.
"Thank you for hosting, Mak. A wonderful job you did today."
The door closed behind him.
I just stood there long after, my heart racing, body tight with something I refuse to name.