I knew one thing. He was the boss. He walked like one, like he owned the ground his feet stepped on. Like he owned the air that we all breathed in. Like he could eat up the universe, if he wanted to. *** Someone killed Rumi, the Russian Mafia's top washer in New York. Kazimir, the head of the Bratva, has come to NY to find the murderer. They call him The Russian Lion, known for having over two hundred kills. By the age of twenty, the FBI placed him...