AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Gareth’s upbringing had been populated with the faces of “family” members—lots of cousins, aunts, and uncles whose appearances could be easily explained as get-togethers, whether at the beach, in the basement, or a day at the tracks. He was exposed to a world where respect was earned through power and fear, and alliances were forged and shattered in the blink of an eye. The delicate dance of power struggles became a backdrop to his childhood.
Yet, amid it all, Gareth also witnessed the bonds of family that ran deeper than blood. Loyalty and sacrifice were the norms of his world. For him, family was gold.
“One day, son, you’ll come to understand that human compassion and survival are an essential part of our world. To rule, you must find a balance between the two.”
His daily exposure to the peculiar work ethic, supplemented by the occasional tutorial and topped off with slices of wisdom from his grandfather, had formed the foundation for Gareth to become the best of the best.
It was because of a sacrifice his grandfather had made that led to the cruel nature Gareth inherited.
He had always adhered to his mother’s unwavering demand for a life guided by principles of honor, dignity, and fairness. For as long as she had lived, Gareth remained a paragon of those virtues. But the day she died, an irreversible transformation took place. Over the past two decades, he had methodically plotted his revenge—retribution his grandfather had been denied at the hands of the very man Gareth vowed to destroy.
“First, I’ll strip him of his pride,” Gareth said sotto voce. “Then I’ll force him to beg for mercy to keep his family alive. And finally, once he watches as they’re tortured to death, I’ll kill him last. Justice will be mine.”
Apart from seeking revenge, realizing his grandfather’s dream of becoming the global crime lord was at the top of his list.
Janos Smirnoff had started to agitate in becoming the subjugator, believing it was his destiny. Gareth had no intention of playing that game with him. His death had been a blessing in disguise, but then his nephew, Andrei Smirnoff, inherited the coveted title.
Gareth had no intention of vying for the position of top dog in this new venture for it was he alone who had set the wheels of change in motion. He was the mastermind. There could be no doubt anywhere among anyone that it was his due to rule as the king of kings of organized crime. The sooner Smirnoff realized it the better.
“I’m not gonna make the same mistake of shooting only half his face. This time, I’ll blow the whole fucking thing off,” he muttered.
He returned his attention to the man across from him. Gareth, amused by Havel’s brewing disdain, took a seat and put his feet up on the meeting table.
“Get your filthy, fucking feet off the table,” Havel spit.
“Easy does it, Underboss,” Gareth said, as he nonchalantly examined his manicured nails. He looked up, and they locked eyes. “That, my dear Havel, is exactly the issue. Being the leader of the Bratva group is a hat that doesn’t fit you. It’s just too big.”
“I’m not the Pakhan, you—”
“No, you’re not,” Gareth cut him short and leaned back in his chair. “But, as Michal correctly pointed out earlier, you’ve been performing all the Pakhan’s functions. Any other man with half a spine would've taken charge long ago. It begs the question—why have you become a wimp to be bossed around by a woman?”
“Upokoj! Silence! You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know me. Leave. Get out!” Havel quivered with anger.
“Not until I’ve said my piece.” With a penetrating gaze, he lowered his feet to the floor and leaned forward. “You have a choice. You can embrace what’s about to happen and join our cause, or if you’re not interested, we can fit you out with a nice pair of concrete shoes and take you deep-sea diving. There it is.”
“What in the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m taking control of the Koval Bratva Group, Havel. That is what the fuck I’m talking about.” Gareth grinned. “And you, my dear man, are going to play a crucial role in making that happen.”
“Whaddaya mean?”
“I mean to say that because of your close ties to the Pakhan and her beloved Moldovan family, you are going to make sure that none of them suspect anything has changed within the organization.”
“And if I refuse?”
Gareth shrugged nonchalantly. “You’ll be sleeping with the fish, but only after I’ve had your whole fucking family whacked. We wouldn’t want them to worry about you, now would we?”
Chapter Seven
Chateau VanZun Winery on the banks of the Dniester River, Dubasari, Moldova, Vanya’s home…
As the days turned into weeks, so, too, in parallel did mindfulness bend to the weight of apathy. Vanya, once free to indulge her most reckless impulses—having done so wantonly, without regard to the subsequent physiological and psychological damage that ensued—now found herself incarcerated by the necessary requirement of rehabilitation in order to arrest her descent into the abyss of self-destructiveness.
She passed the daylight hours wandering aimlessly, unmotivated by desire, curiosity, or more importantly, the need to search her own mind for anything useful that might otherwise assist in her recovery.
Strapped to the bed, as the occasional need arose, her once rebellious spirit—which more often than not defied the strictures of normality—had become impotent as the powerful symptoms of withdrawal laid siege to her mind and body. If only her cries could dull the pain and emotional turmoil. Instead, each day was bookended morning and night by an endless routine to help her disengage and be free from the incessant call of her demons.
“It’s only been two weeks, butblyad’,it feels like a month. How cruel of Arian to make me suffer so much,” Vanya bemoaned her own fate as she stepped out of a steaming shower. She shivered as a draft from an open window chilled the droplets of water that cascaded down her warm body.
