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I only stopped running when I was far enough away from them and took a mask out of my pocket to hide my face before I could get a means of transport out of there.
I had a feeling that this wouldn't be the last time I clashed with the Belluccis.
Chapter one
Current days...
The sun was unusually bright that morning as I walked behind the procession carrying my father's coffin toward the family crypt in a private cemetery in Moscow. Everyone dressed in black didn't say a single word while the priest of the Orthodox church prayed in low tones for my father's soul. If he had one.
He had lived in the mafia long enough to believe that people like us were devoid of the trivial traits of humanity. Crime corrupted us and the more souls we sent to hell, the smaller ours became.
Simeon Orlov's burial seemed like a victory for our enemies in the police, but my father was already an old man who had died of natural causes and the time was ripe for revitalization in the mafia.
I turned my head and saw my half-brother who was leading the procession. Igor would be the new boss, but I felt I wasn't the only one who thought he wasn't the most suitable candidate to take on the role.
He was weak, for lack of a better word to describe him. However, I was always an outcast, and my opinion was not the most relevant. As a result of one of the Russian mafia boss' many affairs, they acted as if I had the privilege of being there and serving.
But I was sure of one thing, I was one of the best warriors, if not the best, and that's exactly why they kept me around. Whether they admitted it or not, they needed me. I was raised to be an unstoppable soldier, a ferocious killer, and I knew very well how to act like one.
I stood at a distance, while under the words of God's representative, my father's lifeless body was lowered into the ditch.
When the funeral was over, I waited for everyone to turn around and followed at the end of the procession. I put my hands inside my pants pockets and remained completely silent until we reached the street where the cars were parked.
I stayed close to the wall and remained motionless when Igor approached me. He looked me from head to toe before smirking at me.
“I want to see what will happen to you now, little bitch. If you no longer have him to defend you.”
“I'm loyal to the mafia,” I replied in a firm and cold tone, as if I didn't care about his provocations.
Igor had done this his entire life. Older than me, he had spent the years using tricks to diminish me in order to hide his own inferiority.
“You have to be loyal to me.”
I remained silent. I had committed myself to the entire organization that sheltered me since I was a child, but I would hardly be as loyal to Igor as he would like me to be.
“Boss, let's go.” He was called by one of the security guards, pointing to the cars and Igor nodded, getting into the back seat of a limousine.
I continued walking down the street until I found my motorbike which was parked near the corner. I put on my helmet and started the vehicle.
Chapter two
I was walking behind my parents and next to my sister when we entered the room. I was excited for that night. Finally, my father had allowed us to participate in one of the parties organized by the family.
As much as we knew full well it was for our safety, Perla and I didn't see much of Rome beyond the walls of the Bellucci mansion. I wanted to be able to accompany my fatheron missions like my older brother did. But Dante was being prepared to be king and we, well... we would be bargaining chips at some point.
Being at that celebration gave me the illusion that there was a little freedom and even glamour in my life. In addition to the possibility of meeting other people and seeing the world.
With my focus dispersed in every corner of the place, I looked around, noticing people's clothes and mannerisms. Until my attention was drawn directly to the blue eyes of a waiter. He was very tall, taller than the average people I was used to being around. He had fair skin and very blond hair. Traits that were not so typically Italian and perhaps that was why they attracted me so much.
One of our soldiers approached my uncle Theo and whispered something in his ear, making him tense.
“There is a Russian among us.”
Russian?
That word kept echoing in my head as I looked back at the man who had caught my attention and disappeared in moments like smoke. It was possible that he was the Russian guy.
I didn't have much knowledge of the details of my family's illicit business dealings, but if there was one thing I knew well, it was that we didn't like Russians.
