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I sit bolt upright, my heart pounding. I’m in a leather armchair. The TV screen in front of me is showing the credits of a movie. A dream. That’s all.
I’m in the cinema room of my mansion, my father’s mansion. It’s not then. It’s now. I’ve got it back. I came out on top. Fought and won the war. My revenge is almost complete. Just one last thing to do and then I’ll drink again. Take the daughter. Destroy her.
By my side, the vodka bottle is full. I haven’t touched a drop. Not in five years. Not since the attack.
The knocking sound is coming from the door behind me. “What?” I snap.
Igor walks in, glancing down at the bottle and then up at me. “Mila Belucci is being escorted to the Don’s house. She’ll be ready to collect in ten minutes.”
He comes over, pouring himself a glass of vodka before taking one of the other armchairs. It creaks under his weight.
I glance across at him. Same black suit as my own, the only man in my ranks approaching my height. Would never be mistaken for me. Not broad shouldered enough, not evil enough. He looks back at me, taking a sip of his drink. “Tvajó zdaróvye,” he says. “To your health.”
“How’d the Mexican deal go?”
“Cartel tried to get me to drop the price ten percent. Diego’s orders, apparently.”
“Hope you did what I said.”
“Tortured the messenger until he agreed to pay full price.”
“Good. You get the money?”
“Oh, they paid up in the end but they were grumbling about it. I’m hoping it doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass.”
“They want my stuff, they have to pay for it. Simple business.”
“Is business ever simple?”
“They knew the price when we made the deal.”
“The problem is they want your empire, not your merch’. One of these days they’ll come for you, Alexsei.”
“Then they’ll die. You were saying about Mila?”
“Been picked up and taken to the Don. Should be ready to collect in an hour or two.” He looks at me and frowns. “You okay?”
“I should have saved them, Igor.”
He groans, the sound like rocks falling down a mountainside. “This again? There were six hitmen, all armed to the teeth. What were you supposed to do? You’d have been killed and your family would still have died.”
“I should have done something. Anything.”
“You did a lot. Waged war. Won back this place. Wiped out everyone that hurt your family. Tortured them. Made them die screaming. You got your revenge.”
“Not yet. Not until my ring is on Mila’s finger and she’s sobbing at my feet, knowing how much I despise her.”
He leans back in his chair. “I’ve been with you how long?”
“Since I was born, why?”
“What did your father always say?”
“A lot of shit.”
“He said never let your emotions control you. Focus, always. Be ruthless. Make your enemies fear your very name. Hesitation is weakness. Be forceful, be faster than anyone else. Be crueler than your rivals. Reach the top.”
“What’s your point?”
