Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 11838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 59(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 59(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)
“Congrats, Boss,” Kolya whispers, falling in step right behind me.
He’s a tall man with thick muscles and a permanent scowl. His blond hair is still buzzed short from the special forces days.
“It’s not the time to celebrate yet, Kolya. This is only the beginning.”
“A very promising one. The Pakhan didn’t even think twice before giving you the mission.”
Which is why my dear father is scared.
At this rate, his ending is near.
We join everyone in front of the restaurant. I pause when I make out a black van slowing down near the entrance.
“Everyone down,” I yell in Russian.
It happens fast.
The van’s window lowers and then the loud bangs of gunshots reverberates in the fucking air.
I stare in Nikolai’s direction since he’s usually the target of assassination attempts. The strongest pillar always is.
My father doesn’t hesitate as he jumps in front of his boss, using his body as a shield.
I watch as the first bullet punctures his chest, then the second follows, and the third. I stop counting after the fifth.
His blank eyes roll to the back of his head as the guards pull Nikolai from behind him, leaving my father’s corpse lying on the floor.
He’s dead.
My father is dead.
And yet, I feel nothing.
It’s all thanks to him, really.
The only reason I’m unable to mourn him or feel any sort of grief is because he killed that side of me when I was a kid.
I don’t think twice as I rush to my car waiting for us not far from the van that’s now speeding down the road.
Kolya and I are barely inside as the driver kicks the vehicle into gear.
“Follow that van,” I order with a calm that sounds twisted, robotic even.
We leave the chaos behind as we chase the van. It doesn’t take us long to corner them.
They’re not really that professional and must be some small-time bastards who have a grudge against Nikolai.
When you’re powerful, the world is your enemy.
Life is your bitch.
That’s exactly what I strive to be.
We corner the van near an empty, industrialized road with abandoned warehouses.
They open fire, but Kolya and I are faster. Our shots hit their wheels and they swerve before banging against the wall of a warehouse.
We storm out of the car, not giving them a chance to recover. Two men stumble out of the van, shaking their bloodied heads and holding AK-41s.
Kolya shoots the first between the head and he drops dead. I don’t blink or attempt to take the kill.
I might use violence to my benefit, but I don’t get off on it or seek it out.
Violence, just like everything else, is a means to an end.
A method to get things done.
Those who thrive on it become addicted to it, and I don’t allow myself to get consumed by anything.
Or anyone.
Kolya easily disarms the other guard and hauls him to his knees in front of me. I don’t even bring out my gun.
“Who sent you?”
“Fuck you,” he snarls with an accented English then spits blood at my leather shoes.
“Fuck you isn’t an answer. Either give me one or I will find your family and make them watch as they’re being tortured and killed.”
That does it.
Bringing up the family always breaks them. And it’s why people like me can climb the ranks higher.
We have nothing that weakens us, no beloved ones to go back to, and certainly no people that control our fate.
We always go up while everyone else stays down.
After he finishes selling out his boss, the bastard in front of me stares up. “Go ahead and kill me, but one day, you will be killed, too, Volkov.”
“That day isn’t today. Thank you for killing my father for me.” I bring out my gun and shoot him between the eyes.
Now, nothing and no one will stop me.
2
Adrian
The scent of roses has morphed into the stench of death.
I stare down at the blood gushing from her wounds, at the life stubbornly leaving her body without pause or second thoughts.
The red color is marring her fair skin, painting rivulets down her arms and legs and contouring her soft face.
Her eyes are open, but she’s not looking at me. Their blue is blank, vanished, already existing someplace else where I don’t belong.
I cradle her head in my arms, gently stroking her dark brown hair. Lifting a wet strand, I inhale deeply, searching for what’s possibly my last fix of roses. It doesn’t matter if they’re thorny and would prick me in the process. The method holds no importance to me as long as I get things done.
What greets me is the furthest thing from roses. It’s not even death. It’s worse.
Nothingness.
Numbness.
A place where she can’t and won’t feel me. Where she ended everything just so she could seal her heart and her soul.
Just so she could…disappear.
I sweep her hair away from her face and brush my lips over her forehead. “I’ll find you again.”