{NIKOLAI}
A baseball hat covered my head as I entered the butcher's shop in Donetsk. One man was behind the counter, the rest of the place empty. The point wasn't to actually sell meat. My men used it for all sorts of purposes, but mostly for the bloodiest of work. The drains in the meat locker made for easy cleanup.
Removing my sunglasses, I pushed through to the back, Vito and Massimo right behind me. Pietro met us in the hallway. "Don Kuznetsov," he said, with a deferential dip of his chin. "Kak vy?"
"I've had better days. Let's get this over with."
We started forward, and Pietro glanced over my shoulder at my brothers. "Vito! What's happened to your face? You meet up with a jealous husband?"
Vito was notorious for sleeping with married women, at least back when we lived here. The injuries today were from me, however. Hitting him had reduced my anger somewhat, but I was still pissed at him for giving Dasha that comforter.
