Champagne, Cocaine, and Gasoline
Chapter One- Out Early
"Отабек Алтин, пора идти" (Otabek Altin, time to go) A guard announced, opening the doors of the cell he has shared with 7 other men for the last 2 years.
He cocked an eyebrow and looked up from the game of cards he was playing. Time to go? He wasn't due to be released for another 2 months. Still, he wasn't going to bother with a response to the guard, so instead he played his hand wordlessly, instilling some groans from his cellmates.
"До следующей встречи" (until our next meeting) He bid farewell with no real intention of ending up in this hellhole again, although for people like him, it was almost as inevitable as death. The guard lead him to an area he had never seen before and he was handed a bag of his belongings, an almost empty wallet, his watch, and a pair of motorcycle boots. Figures they would have gotten rid of his clothes, they were completely covered in blood if he remembered correctly. Wordlessly, he takes off his standard issue prison shoes, and put the boots on, still having no idea what was going on, but refusing to speak to the guards about anything. He felt like this had to be a mistake and was waiting for them to realize it at any moment, but it never came.
"Bыходите на улицу, ваша машина ждет вас." (Go outside your car is waiting for you.) The guard pointed with his gun to the large metal door straight ahead and again Otabek just raised an eyebrow. Car? What car? He couldn't think of a single person who would be here to get him, he'd burned his bridges long ago. Still, whoever it was, it was better than rotting away in Бутырка*, so he stepped outside, thankful for the summer weather since he didn't have a coat.
Just like the guard said, there was in fact a car waiting for him, but what was even more surprising was that it was a blacked-out escalade that was either brand new, or very well cared for. Whoever was in that car was obviously responsible for =his early release, and while he was grateful, he knew his freedom was likely short lived. Nobody did anything for you with expecting something back. It wasn't as if really had a choice though, so he trudged confidently toward the vehicle, stopping only when the driver jumped out to open the door to the backseat for him. He eyed the man suspiciously before sliding into the backseat where a man he vaguely recognized was waiting for him.
He was dressed in an impeccable grey suit that seemed to be custom tailored to fit his slim, but muscular figure. Though appearing to be in his late twenties, early thirties at most, he has a full head of silver hair that hung over one eye and a carefree relaxed expression on his face as well as a few tell tale tattoos covering his hands and fingers, the man was clearly Vory.
"Otabek Altin, what a pleasure to meet you in person." The man offered, a seemingly genuine smile on his face. Otabek knew that in their world there was no such thing.
"As it seems you are responsible for my early release, I'd say the pleasure is mine Mr-?" He replied waiting for the man to fill in the blank.
"Nikiforov." He replied with the same cheshire cat grin. The cogs began turning in his head as he realized just why he knew this man.
"Viktor Nikiforov? Of the Plisetsky Bratva?" He asked, more to state that he was aware than really asking a question. The older man had quite the reputation in Russia, actually across Europe for both his cunning mind and the reign of brutal violence he is to certainly bring. He had been exclusively working for the Plisetsky's for about 10 years if Otabek remembered correctly.
"Ah, so you've heard of me? I'm flattered." Viktor teased as he opened a bottle of ELIT poured into expensive looking crystal glasses. Otabek almost broke his stoic expression he was famous for at the bottle the probably cost almost 200,000 Ruples**. He took the glass offered to him and waited for Viktor to take a drink before tasting his own.
"Oh come now, why would I waste time getting you out early if I was just going to poison you?" The silver haired man laughed and leaned back easily in his seat as the car began moving.
"I don't know, why would you?" He replied, narrowing his eyes. He kept on alert, after all he was in the presence of a very dangerous man, even for Otabek's standards, and he had nothing but his bare hands to defend himself with.
"Ah, I heard you were straight to the point, and I have not been disappointed." Viktor answered, taking another sip of his drink. "I am here because I have a job offer for you." He smiled that knowing smile again and though Otabek's heart skipped a beat, you would never be able to tell by looking at him.
"What kind of job?" He inquired, failing to see a reason why he would be sought out whilst still in prison. The Plisetsky Bratva was still the most powerful clan in St Petersburg last he'd heard, surely they have enough staff on payroll to handle their own business. Plus, the Bratva's were usually purist, choosing to work with only Russians and he was Kazakh.
"Nikolai Plisetsky requires a full-time personal bodyguard for his grandson Yuri, and we believe that you are the best man for the job." This time Otabek couldn't help but let his shock show on his face.
"Surely you must be joking?" He replied and again Viktor laughed. Otabek was not a man who enjoyed being laughed at.
"I know, I know, not your usually gig, but this is a big opportunity for you. Last we heard you were no longer affiliated with the Kazakh gang that landed you in prison this time, and I have heard no other whispers of work lined up for you upon your release. I'm sure you understand, to work for the Pakhan is an honor not lightly given, and to gain immediate access to the heir to the Plisetsky throne is even a rarer opportunity." The man finished his drink and immediately poured himself another glass. Otabek sat silent for a moment, taking this information in, sure Viktor was right, he didn't have any work lined up, and this was most likely the best offer he was to get, but he just didn't understand something.
"Why me?" He asked. "What do I have to offer that the Pakhan does not currently have in his employment? Surely he would want someone he already knows to entrust with the life of his heir." Vaguely he remembers hearing a few years back that Aleksandr Plisetsky and his wife died in a car crash, but he didn't know that they had a surviving son.
"Well… Lets just say Yuri is quite… difficult to work for." Viktor replied cheekily.
"What do you mean?" Otabek questioned.
"Hmm… in the last 2 years he has managed to go though no less than 7 bodyguards, no one can last more than a couple months with the kid. He has quite a temper and a knack for getting in trouble. They're call him the Ice Tiger of Russia already and the boy is only 17. We've exhausted our payroll and now must seek a new recruit, and I believe that you will be exactly what that boy needs to keep in line." Viktor answered.
"And what is that? Surely it can't be too hard to watch a kid" Otabek still didn't get it, why was he the one they wanted to babysit this child.
"Well, your reputation is quite impressive. I have heard you to be a man of little emotion, a man of loyalty and value. Yuri has the tendency to get under people's skin, and I've heard you are a man who does not let the words of others affect them. We need someone who will not fight with Yuri, who can let him be himself, to an extent, and keep him safe. Plus, I understand you are an adept fighter and an excellent shot. All in all, I believe you to be exactly what we need to keep our Yuratchka in line." Viktor elaborated. Otabek was still letting this sink in. He thinks he understood. Growing up him he did made emotions unnecessary and a hinderance in getting a job done. Good to know being away for 2 years hasn't dampened his reputation.
"Of course, should you prove yourself useful, we may be inclined to enlist your assistance in some areas of work you are more familiar with." Viktor was obviously eluding to getting his hands dirty. "The choice is of course yours, but should you decline, I believe the Pakhan would request a refund for his investment. I understand it was not cheap to orchestrate your early release." Otabek almost shivered at the icy words, if there was one thing he didn't want it was to be on the bad side of Nikolai Plisetsky. Plus, it's not as if he had any better offers on the table.
"Is there anything more you can tell me about this offer?" He asked. Viktor grinned in return.
"We can discuss details on the plane. You will shower and look presentable, after we land you will meet to Pakhan." He answered flippantly, pulling out a black iPhone 10 and handing it to Otabek.
"This is yours now, don't lose it." Viktor said before pulling out his own phone and typing a message out.
"Got it."
xxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxx
When Viktor said Otabek was going to shower, he didn't think he meant on the plane.
They had been driving for about 30 minutes when they pulled up to a discrete airfield in the country. Otabek has never been on a private jet before, and he didn't think it would come equip with a full bathroom, a seating cabin, and a bedroom. So this is how the 1% live? After living in that shithole of a prison for the last 2 years and seedy apartments in bad neighborhoods his entire life, he didn't think he had ever seen anything so unnecessarily grand.
Still, he was thankful for the privacy of the shower, with its warm water, actual shampoo and conditioner, he was in heaven. He was lucky to get a half used bar of soap and a lukewarm temperature at best inside, plus the comfortability of 30 naked criminals in the room with you. He remembers some not so pleasant events in his younger days, the depravity of men locked away for years now having young meat to pray on. He cracked countless skulls and knocked quite a few teeth out in the effort to prove that Otabek Altin was no one's bitch. He scrubbed his skin raw, trying to wash away the grime of his incarceration, but never feeling clean.
Viktor had given him a black suit that he changed into once he dried off with a towel that felt like it must be made by the softest Egyptian cotton. He was surprised to find it fit him incredibly well and wondered how the older man got his measurements, but he supposed the Plisetsky Bratva had enough power to find out any information they wanted. He looked in the mirror and was pleased with his transformation, sure the tattoos on his hands identified him as a criminal, but he had to admit he looked good in a suit. He'd never owned one before.
After emerging from the bathroom a new man, Viktor had given him a brief rundown of his weekly salary (it was more than Otabek was used to making in a month), and he learned he was to be given a small apartment 15 minutes away from the Plisetsky townhouse in downtown St Petersburg. All he could think about was how as soon as he got paid, he was buying himself a new motorcycle, he never knew what happened to the one he owned when he was arrested. Probably impounded or stolen…
He also learned that Viktor used to be Yuri's bodyguard before being promoted to Sovietnik two years ago. After the death of Aleksandr and Roksana, Nikolai pulled Yuri out of traditional school and kept in in the townhouse almost 24/7, bringing in private tutors, martial arts instructors, and anything else he deemed necessary for the child. He employed Viktor as Yuri's personal bodyguard on the rare occasions in which he was allowed to leave the house. Viktor had known Yuri practically his whole life, having worked for the family since he was 15, starting as an errand boy and informant, working his way to solider, bodyguard and now the Pakhans left hand man. Yuri had apparently always been a hellcat but in the last few years his partying has really gotten out of hand and the Pakhan is worried that he will not be ready to take over the family business when the time comes. Otabek couldn't help but think this babysitting gig was going to be harder than he originally thought.
After a short 90-minute flight, an identical escalade was waiting for them on the landing strip and in no time, they were in the city shortly approaching the townhouse. There was not a lot in this world that actually made Otabek nervous, but he had to admit, meeting Nikolai Plisetsky was one of those things. This was arguably the most powerful and dangerous man in St Petersburg, maybe in all of Russia. The fact that he was being invited to the man's house, to protect his grandson was still a concept he couldn't wrap his mind around.
The car came to a stop and suddenly Otabek realized house wasn't the right word. This place looked more like the Зимний дворец. (The Winter Palace.) The building stood 4 stories high, decorated in an elaborate baroque nature. There were a couple small balconies adorning the front, none that would impose a security breech, as they were all on the 3rd and 4th stories. There were numerous security cameras fixed discreetly all around, if Otabek wasn't specifically looking for them he would never seen them. He followed Viktor up to the main entrance and watched him move a metal latch that exposed a fingerprint scanner, he placed his forefinger on and then after a beep, pulled out a keycard that granted access to the building.
The entryway was as grand if more grander than the outside of the building, everything adorned in polished stone and gold., The staircase curved and split into two at the bottom, perfect for a princess making her way into a ball Otabek couldn't help but think and then almost crack a smile at such a thought in the home of a ruthless Братски круг. (Bruski Krug.) He followed Viktor through the grand hall and down a smaller hallway, passing a few maids who refused to look either of the men in the eye. Probably a good habit for them to pick up. Finally, they reached a set of double doors. The eccentric silver haired man gave him another ridiculous grin before he lightly knocked on the door in front of him. Otabek's heart sped up.
"Bходи внутрь!" (Come inside)
AN: Alright, what do you guys think? Yes I know, ANOTHER OtaYuri mafia fic, but OH WELL SUE ME! This fic is heavily inspired by (of course) the one and only Kawaiiloren's Mafia AU, as well as a couple fics I've read on AO3. I see a lot of one shots and short stories in regards to this AU, but I have yet to find a full length fic that I really loved with this dynamic (Yuri the Pakhans grandson and Otabek his bodyguard.) However there are a couple other YOI mafia fics that are absolutely amazing such as The Shadow People series by AphroditeB00w and Bought by Love by Silvandar.
*Butyrka Prison is a historic prison in Moscow.
** 200,000 Ruples is just over $3,000 US Dollars. Yes a bottle of ELIT by Stolichnaya Pristine Water really costs that much
