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Petrov steps forward and places the case on my desk. He opens it, and I see it is packed with hundred-dollar bills.
“Good job,” I tell Petrov before he shuts the briefcase. “You know where that is going,” I add, and he nods. “Good. That will be all,” I tell him.
“Is the wedding happening anytime soon?” Ludis asks.
Petrov frowns at this. “You’re going through with the agreement, Boss?”
“Yes,” I reply as I feign sudden interest in the document in front of me.
“Why shouldn’t he go through with the agreement?” Ludis fires back, and I know they are about to get into another heated argument.
“I’m not saying he shouldn’t. It’s the timing.With the Spanish deal going on,having a De Luca in our midst may not be the best thing right now,” Petrov says angrily. Ludis’ eyes narrow.
“What is wrong with having a De Luca in our midst? This is expanding the business. Why am I surprised that you don’t understand?” Ludis scoffs.
Petrov clenches his fists in anger. But they know better than to start throwing punches at each other around me. I block their argument out as my mind drifts to De Luca’s daughter. I saw her picture once. It was years ago when her father made the deal with the Bratva. She was just a girl then, but something about her had beckoned to me. I’ve never forgotten how I lost myself in the haunted dark eyes staring from that image. She had woken something in me that day, something I couldn’t understand. Knowing that the deal was done, I’d forced myself not to keep tabs on her after that. It’s a decision I’m grateful for. It’s allowed me to remain detached from that girl in the picture.
Detachment suits me.
Emotion brings weakness, and there’s no room for that in my world. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way.
Is Petrov right about the timing of the deal?
I wonder about it now as I trace a finger along the scar on my cheek. It pulses annoyingly when those old memories resurface. Memories of a boy who allowed himself to love too much.
Love is a weakness.
A fucking waste of time.
It only causes pain.
Perhaps I shouldn’t ignore what Petrov is saying. I think back to the day I concluded those negotiations.I’d just destroyed the Mexican mafia. It hadn’t been just one fucker who paid with their blood for what those bastards did to my family.
My revenge was a bloodbath. I’d ended them all. Yet still, it was nothing compared to what they did. Every fucking night, I battle my demons. It is a part of who I am now. I’ll take the image of my blood-spattered mother and sister to the grave. And it wasn’t just them I lost that day. My father died too, leaving the Bratva rudderless.
I know my men bear similar burdens. The Mexican mafia not only wiped out my close family; they also killed core members of our organization.
Ludis's father, a trusted brigadier, had died along with the rest of our elite group. It had taken resilience and my thirst for vengeance to make the Bratva strong again.
And yet, it was not enough.
The nightmares still plague me.
I know De Luca only came to the table with his so-called “deal” to save his own neck. Our families had been feuding for decades, and with my blood lust out in the open, he was anxious to take the target off his back – by selling out his own daughter.
Men like him make me sick.
I’d almost turned him down that day.
And then I’d seen that picture.
Perhaps arranging a marriage could work out in my favor. A leader needs a wife. An heir. And I don’t have time to deal with the annoyance of finding a suitable bride. Men like me don’t just go out and “date.”
And showing anyone a side of myself that might display weakness is unacceptable. I like the fear that I inspire. Ridding the world of those Mexican fuckers had served more than one purpose. People are afraid of me. And they should be. Nobody fucks with Lev Ivanov.
“Don’t fool yourself into thinking that you have the best ideas,” Ludis’s voice rings out, and I snap out of my thoughts. I glare at Petrov, and he grows silent before I direct my glare at Ludis.
“Are you two done?” I ask them, and they remain silent. “Get out of here,” I tell them, and they turn to leave without a word. I lean back in my seat and exhale roughly.
