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The cheekiness in his eyes was all I needed to tell which of the twins was buttering up to me. “Anton Nikolayevich Volkov, spit it out. If that shit doesn’t work with your father, what makes you think you could pull it off?” I asked my son with a raised brow, turning my head to look up at him with narrowed eyes.
“Okay, fine, it’s about the car...” He didn’t even bother finishing his sentence, letting his voice trail out.
“You are not getting the Aston, nor are you going to get the Porsche, or the Bentley, and if you keep bringing this shit back up then so help me God I will find a 1990 Honda Civic for you to drive in.” Okay, so maybe promising the boys one of the cars as a gift for college was a mistake without specifications.
Pouting overly so, he swayed back and forth with me. “Oh come on mom, how come Anatoli gets one but I don’t? Is it because he’s older? I knew you had your favorite!” He playfully accused me in a whining voice.
“Anatoli gets one because that’s the one he chose and didn’t crash. You wrecked the damn Ferrari within an hour of getting the keys to it.” I retorted with a saccharine smile, throwing my son’s arm off my shoulders to go grab my coat from the coat closet.
“Oh come on, it’s not my fault you passed on the bad Asian driver genes to me.” Anton joked with a roll of his eyes. “Besides, I don’t hear dad complaining or cutting you off every time you wreck your car. I mean, this is what? The fourth Aston this year? And it’s only been six months into the new year. I don’t see dad not replacing it or cutting you off from all the other cars.” Anton stuck his tongue out at me with his arms crossed.
“The accidents weren’t my fault. Did I choose to have a bomb placed under my car? No. Did I ask for a murder attempt in the form of a semi-truck or SUV? No. None of it was ever my fault, so therefore invalid in your argument becauseyoucrashed your car into a fire hydrant yourself after trying to impress your fifth girlfriend of the month.” Okay, I have to admit, my luck with cars was shit, but I couldn’t control murder attempts on my head because I was the Pakhan’s wife.
“I think he was trying to pull a dad. Said he saw a cute girl in scrubs walking and thought that it’d be nice to crash into her life like dad did to yours.” And there was my other son, making a jab at his younger twin.
“Haven’t your dad and I drilled into your stubborn skulls to do as we say and not what we do?” Not saying we were bad parents, we raised our kids well, and they’ve grown into wonderful people. But the mafia life was a brutal one, and being born into it meant they were tied to our lives whether they wanted to or not.
Nikolai and I kept our children away from any kind of mafia business until their late teens, and even then we never forced anything on them. We always taught them to be good with a straight head and strong morals, and we made it very clear they should not follow us as examples because that would be a very violent outcome. Either they would be brutal killers like Nikolai or sadistic torturers like me. Both which neither of us wanted for our children.
“Where is dad anyways? I wanted to talk to him before you and him go on your little date.” Anatoli asked, looking around to see if he could spot his father.
“He’s outside with your uncle Lev and the twins. I think they’re sparring with each other back there, or shooting.” They have been out there a while, probably best if I check on them before date night gets canceled again because someone got a little too into it.
With a deep breath, I made my way out back with my sons in tow. “Oh lordy.” I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose at the sight of my daughter choking out Lev while my other son held him down. Of course, Nikolai wasn’t doing anything to stop the madness. He just sat there in his chair sipping on some whiskey while on his phone.
Sighing heavily, I clicked my tongue out of annoyance. “Natasha! Misha! Get off your uncle before you actually kill him! And why is he bleeding!?” Well, so much for date night.
Natasha and Mikhail—who we called Misha—were our other two children. We were trying for a third and ended up with twins, again. They were unexpected, but they were both loved equally just as much as Anatoli and Anton. Misha looked exactly like me but with slightly lighter hair similar to Nikolai’s, but he definitely had Nikolai’s personality. Natasha was the opposite, looking like Nikolai with slightly darkened hair and my fiery personality, which got her into trouble more often than not.
“He popped his stitches, he’s fine,” Misha said with a wave of his hand as he got off his uncle with a huff. “It’s just a minor flesh wound.”
“I’ll call Uncle Alexei,” Anatoli said with a sigh, pulling out his phone and stepping off to the side. “Don’t cancel date night again, you and dad need it, more so you mom,” my son said with a wave of his free hand as he held his phone up to his ear with his other.
“You need to lock your arms more, gives a tighter hold and less wiggle room for your opponent.” Anton advised his sister, demonstrating using his own arms with the air.
My eye twitched from my growing irritation. Turning to Anton, I whack him over the head with my purse. With a small, playful scowl, I scolded my son, “Don’t fucking help her kill your damn uncle.”
Nikolai’s snicker made my head turn towards him, “And you, you’re supposed to be supervising.” I scolded my husband with a soft glare as I pointed and jabbed a finger his direction.
“I was, Lev was fine, and the twins were doing great. I would have stepped in if Lev actually passed out,” Nikolai said nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders before downing the rest of his drink and standing up.
“Trakhni tebya, muzhik,” Lev groaned, still laying there on the ground. Slowly, his head turned towards me, “Your kids are monsters.”
“Oh, like yours are any better? Last I checked, it wasn’t my door that was busted down by the feds because someone hacked them.” I retorted with a knowing look.
“How’d I do dad?” Natasha was definitely a daddy’s girl, and she knew she had Nikolai wrapped around her little fingers. She was also pretty aware about having brothers at her disposal also because she was the youngest.
“Good, but remember, you gotta learn to do things without much help from Misha. He’s not always going to be there by your side to assist you.” Nikolai commented with a proud smile. “Keep it up along with your studies and you’ll be ready to take my position as Pakhan sooner than later,malysh.”
Out of all our children, only Natasha had shown any interest in taking over Nikolai’s mantle when time would come. If I had a choice then I wouldn’t want either of our children to take over, but the Volkov Bratva legacy had to continue somehow. All our boys were prepared to step in if something were to happen, but they were more than eager to let their little sister take the lead when she showed interest.
“You kids behave, your mother and I are going out.” Nikolai told the kids with a sigh before looking at me with a soft and loving smile, the same one that always pulled at his lips whenever he looked at me, even after nearly two decades of being together.
“Anatoli wanted to talk to you before we go,” I said, looking over at my oldest who waved us off with a shake of his head and dismissive wave of his hand, letting us know it could wait.
With a smile, I leaned into Nikolai when he placed his hand on the small of my back and led us inside. “I love you.” And like always, I grinned like a love struck idiot when I uttered those words and looked up at my husband.
“As I love you too, my lovely wife.” He replied with a smile and kiss.
“Thank you for loving me.” I murmured against his lips after breaking the kiss.
“Thank you for agreeing to stay in my life and putting up with my bullshit. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better. I’ll always love you forever and always,lisichka.”
