“Da, I’m going to contact Varkov, and I want you two to go with me. I want to meet up with him somewhere that’s isolated in the middle of the night. I don’t want anyone to see us. We can’t have the Bratva learning of our existence before we’re ready. Not until I kill the svoloch’ that did the coup,” Lev hisses, looking at us.
“Da, I agree,” I say, nodding.
Ivan returns with the four glasses and the Vodka. He pours them and hands each of us a glass.
“Thanks,” Lev says, looking at him.
“Da, all good,” Ivan hums, taking a drink.
“Pakhan said that you two are my Two Spies. Czar, you’re my Sovietnik and Anatoly, you’re my Obshchak,” Lev says, looking at us.
Ivan hisses, he looks pissed off. Lev looks at him, raises his brow, and presses his lips tight as he watches Ivan walk away.
“Da, Pakhan told us, and it’s a pleasure to have your six,” I hum, smiling.
“Da, we got you, Brat,” Anatoly says, nodding.
“Great, now we need to get to work. I want to kill the svoloch’ that dared to take out our Pakhan,” Lev growls, gathering his brows.
Lev orders some pizza, and we review everything.
A month later.
“Brats, Brigadier Varkov is solid. He has a group of Soldiers that are loyal and ready to work for me, for us. Varkov also gave me the file on what transpired, every fucking detail of the Pakhan’s death, all the activity in the Bratva a few months leading up to his demise,” Lev snarls, shaking the file in his hand.
“Fuck,” I growl, rubbing my neck, closing my eyes.
“Fuckers,” Anatoly hisses, pressing his lips tight.
“Brats, tonight I’m going to kill that svoloch’ Balakin. He has a clandestine gambling club that he visits every night. I have all of his fucking routines down to the last minute of his day. He’s a creature of habit. It’s going to be easy to kill him; he won’t know what hit him. I promise that I’m going to shoot him in the eye, yeah, an eye for an eye, and his black treacherous heart,” Lev hisses, placing the folder on the table.
“We can come with you,” I say, grabbing the file to review.
“Nyet, I’m doing this,” Lev grunts, shaking his head.
“Let us know when it’s done,” I say.
“Da,” Lev says, nodding.
A few hours later, our cell beeps. I grab it from the table, and Anatoly grabs his. I slide my finger over the screen and look at the text.
Lev ~ Done.
Prologue Mia
Mia
Eleven Years Old
“Mia, get your bag ready,” Mama huffs, sliding her finger over her cell phone.
“Mama, why? Are we going on a trip?”
“Mia, don’t be silly. I’m going on a trip but you’re going to a boarding school with Valentina,” Mama smirks, lifting her brows.
“Oh. I don’t want to go to a boarding school. Where is Papa?”
“Too bad. Your Papa is not here; you know that he’s busy taking care of the Mafia business. Besides, your Papa and Don Elio want you to go to boarding school until you grow up. Then Don Elio will marry you off to the man that suits him, so get used to the idea,” Mama says, pointing her long, skinny finger at me.
