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The wind swirls around us, and the cold mist covers us. The chill travels up my spine, circling my neck, and causes the hair on my neck to stand up. I shiver and grind my molars, pulling my black and gray plaid wool scarf tighter. I adjust the dark gray wool coat and bury my hands in my pockets.

Mama is dead.

I stare at the coffin, feeling the riot of emotions threatening to choke me. The pain is almost unbearable, especially since we lost our Otets a couple of days ago. Some svoloch' killed Mama to get back at Otets. But they didn't only kill her, they fucking abused and sliced her up. That's unforgivable. It's fucking incredible, and I'm so furious.

I can't look away from the black coffin; my chest is tight, and I gasp for air. I grind my molars and blink to push back the tears. The priest stops his rambling and then looks at us. I take a step and pick up one of the white roses on the ground and a handful of dirt, dropping it onto the coffin. Anatoly, my twin, does the same.

My blood boils, I'm so damn angry, and my stomach is twisted in knots. How dare the svoloch' kill my Mama right after he killed my Otets. We couldn't bury our Pakhan because the fucking police have the body parts as evidence. The police won't arrest the butcher, da, they're in Obshchak Emil Balakin's pocket.

Da, that's the fucker that killed Pakhan.

It's fucking not right!

The motherfucker is going to pay!

We know that it was the fucker Obshchak Emil Balakin that did the coup. Balakin was always jealous and angry that Otets was Pakhan. It's a matter of days, then we will kill the suka. My Brat Lev will be here soon. We will then kill the svoloch' and Lev will be the Pakhan.

We walk away and stop next to some trees. I look around the cemetery, and I don't see any sukas watching us. No one attended the funeral. We don't have any friends, family, or anyone. Da, Mama's only sister, Anna, didn't want to come to the funeral. Ana judged Mama for getting involved with the Bratva; therefore, she was never around in our lives. Obviously, Anna never accepted us.

I scrub my face, shaking my head, trying to get rid of those thoughts. I need to focus on the next steps. My Brat Lev should be arriving soon from Russia. Then the fucking bloodbath will begin; nothing will stop us from seeking retribution, showing the fucking world that we reign New York and the Kravtsov Bratva.

"Let's go," Anatoly speaks in a low, hush voice.

"We can't return to the house; it's vulnerable. The svoloch' must know of us by now; therefore, we have to continue to hide. Once the suka is taken out, we can lock the house up in a few weeks. We need to go to the safe house, the secured apartment in the city."

"Da, we can't risk it," Anatoly mutters, pulling out the box of cigarettes from the inside of his black wool overcoat.

He pulls one out, hands me the box, and lights it up. I grab the box, slide one out, and light it up.

I take a long drag and watch the priest almost run to his white Honda, enter, and drive away. Stupid fucker, he must know who we are. He better keep his mouth shut, or we will shut it permanently.

Anatoly and I walk to the black Range Rover SUV. I enter the driver's side and start it, taking off down the road. The streets in New York are busy, and it takes a while to get to the safe house. I drive into the commercial building parking lot, driving to the private parking floor. We get out and walk over to the elevator that only we can access. The elevator stops on our floor, and we enter the foyer of the apartment. I walk over to the bar.

"Do you want some vodka?"

"Da. I'm going to order some food and look in the dark web to search for intel on the fuckers that killed Mama," Anatoly hisses, walking to the office.

"Da. Sounds good. I’ll be there in a few.”

I take a drink and close my eyes. My mind is nonstop; the image of Otets talking to us when we were younger runs through it.

"Syny, Bratva has many enemies, so if and when something happens to me, I need you to be ready to go to a safe house, an apartment that will be guarded. The svoloch' will try to kill you."

Otets takes a drink of Vodka and leans back into the chair.

"Now more than ever, I need you two to learn everything that you're taught and train to become the best Spies for your Brat Lev. Since all three of you are about the same age, but Lev is a few months older, he will be the heir, the next Pakhan, if anything ever happens to me. You two will be his loyal Spies. Do you understand?

"Da," I hum, nodding.

"Da," Anatoly says.

"Syny, listen carefully and always remember. Don't ever forget that all three of my syny are my pride and joy, and I love you very much. I want you two to be ready for when Lev takes over. I only pray that when I go, you two will be strong men, and then I can go in peace if and when it's time. I will set everything up for all three of you to take over. Lev will have his instructions, and you two will have yours."

"Otets, why does Lev live in Russia," I ask, looking at him.

"I want him trained by my Otets, your Dedushka, my Otets. I don't want the enemies to know of his existence nor yours. I want to keep you safe."

"Da," I hum, nodding.

"Da," Anatoliy says, wide-eyed.

A week later.

"I’m almost done,” Anatoly hums, typing on the keyboard.

I stare at my twin work on the PC, searching the dark web. He’s incredible at hacking and gathering information on the dark web.

“Da, I want to have all the current intel to give our Brat Lev on the svoloch’ that dared to execute the coup and killed our Pakhan.”

“Da, I pray that our Pakhan, Otets, did tell Lev about us because I don’t want to war with him.”

“Nyet, it’s all good. Pakhan left him the information on us and explained everything, and if Lev is half as great as Pakhan said, then it’s going to be good.

I take a long drink of Vodka and gaze out the window at the dark, cold night. I grab my silver cigarette case from inside my suit jacket, open it, and grab one, lighting it up and taking a drag.

The letter that Otets left us with his instructions runs through my mind.

Always be loyal to Lev and protect him from our enemies.

I only pray that Lev will accept us as we accept him as our Brat.

My cell beeps, and I pull it out. Anatoly’s cell beeps, and he grabs it. We look at the text.

Lev ~ Hey, we need to talk.

Czar ~ Indeed. Where and when?

Anatoly ~ Okay.

Lev ~ My apartment in thirty. Take an Uber and text me when you’re here.

Czar ~ Will be there.

Anatoly ~ Will do.

Lev ~ Text me when you’re at the curb.

Czar ~ Will do.

“Brat is here.”

I look at my twin, raising my brow.

“Da, so let’s go,” Anatoly says, grabbing his suit jacket.

It takes us a few to get to the safe house, the commercial building and stop on the street. I pull out my cell and text Brat.

Czar ~ We’re here.

Lev ~ Da.

A few minutes later, a tall man walks over to us. He looks like the man in the photo that Otets showed us. It’s Ivan, our cousin. We know all about him, but I can see that he doesn’t know about us.

“Privet, Czar, and Anatoly. I’m Ivan,” Ivan says, lifting his chin.

“Hi,” I say, lifting my chin.

“Hey,” Anatoly hums.

“Let’s go,” Ivan says.

“Right,” I say.

Ivan walks to the glass door and into the elevator. He enters his code, and the doors open.

It takes us a couple of minutes to get up to the apartment. We walk inside, and Lev walks up to us, smiling. He has the same cobalt blue eyes as we do, our Otets eyes. My chest tightens, and I feel happy that he made it out of Russia.

“Hey, I’m glad to meet you. Pakhan told me all about you two,” Lev says.

He greets us the Russian way with hugs and kisses on the cheeks. I can’t help but smile and greet him with a hug.

“Hell, yes. I’m thrilled to meet you,” I hum, greeting him the Russian way.

“Yes, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Brat,” Anatoly says, greeting him.

I step back and look at my Brat.

“Brats, did Ivan introduce himself,” Lev asks, raising his brows at him.

“Da, I did,” Ivan hisses, curling up his upper lip.

“Da, we also know of him from Pakhan,” I say, nodding.

“Da. Brats, do you have the information on Pakhan’s assassination, the coup,” Lev asks, resting his hands on his waist.

“Not much since Pakhan kept us away from the Bratva. But Pakhan did mention Obshchak Emil Balakin was causing issues, always going against his orders,” Anatoly says, crossing his arms, rocking on his heels.

“We don’t, and it fucking sucks. They butchered our Pakhan and scattered his body along Brighton Beach. It was a fucking clear message to the Russian community; the Little community is on edge; they’re waiting for the bloodbath,” I growl, raising my brows.

“Da, I’m going to kill the svoloch’! I know that the fucker is hiding in the shadows. I’m sure that the police won’t do a damn thing since they’re in his pocket,” Lev snarls, grinding his molars.

“Da, I haven’t heard a damn thing in the dark underworld web. It’s been silent, and our informants haven’t heard anything,” Anatoly says, shaking his head.

“I hate that we were not there to protect him,” I say in a low, gruff voice.

My throat closes up, making it hard to speak. I close my eyes, inhaling deeply, and swallow the knot in my throat.

Lev stares at us and then scrubs his face, shaking his head.

I run my fingers through my long hair, pulling off my hair tie. I gather my hair and tie it up.

“I need a drink. Brats, would you like to drink some Vodka,” Lev asks, raising his brow.

“Da,” I say, nodding.

“Yes,” Anatoly says.

Lev looks at Ivan, raising his brow.

“I’ll get the Vodka and glasses,” Ivan hums, walking to the bar in the corner of the room.

“Brats, do you know anything about Varkov, the Brigadier? Is he trustworthy? Pakhan said that he was,” Lev says, looking at us.

“Da, that’s what he told us,” I say, nodding.

“Pakhan said that he told us everything that he told you,” Anatoly says, gathering his brows.

“Da, I’m going to contact Varkov, and I want you two to go with me. I want to meet up with him somewhere that’s isolated in the middle of the night. I don’t want anyone to see us. We can’t have the Bratva learning of our existence before we’re ready. Not until I kill the svoloch’ that did the coup,” Lev hisses, looking at us.

“Da, I agree,” I say, nodding.

Ivan returns with the four glasses and the Vodka. He pours them and hands each of us a glass.

“Thanks,” Lev says, looking at him.

“Da, all good,” Ivan hums, taking a drink.

“Pakhan said that you two are my Two Spies. Czar, you’re my Sovietnik and Anatoly, you’re my Obshchak,” Lev says, looking at us.

Ivan hisses, he looks pissed off. Lev looks at him, raises his brow, and presses his lips tight as he watches Ivan walk away.

“Da, Pakhan told us, and it’s a pleasure to have your six,” I hum, smiling.

“Da, we got you, Brat,” Anatoly says, nodding.

“Great, now we need to get to work. I want to kill the svoloch’ that dared to take out our Pakhan,” Lev growls, gathering his brows.

Lev orders some pizza, and we review everything.

A month later.

“Brats, Brigadier Varkov is solid. He has a group of Soldiers that are loyal and ready to work for me, for us. Varkov also gave me the file on what transpired, every fucking detail of the Pakhan’s death, all the activity in the Bratva a few months leading up to his demise,” Lev snarls, shaking the file in his hand.

“Fuck,” I growl, rubbing my neck, closing my eyes.

“Fuckers,” Anatoly hisses, pressing his lips tight.

“Brats, tonight I’m going to kill that svoloch’ Balakin. He has a clandestine gambling club that he visits every night. I have all of his fucking routines down to the last minute of his day. He’s a creature of habit. It’s going to be easy to kill him; he won’t know what hit him. I promise that I’m going to shoot him in the eye, yeah, an eye for an eye, and his black treacherous heart,” Lev hisses, placing the folder on the table.

“We can come with you,” I say, grabbing the file to review.

“Nyet, I’m doing this,” Lev grunts, shaking his head.

“Let us know when it’s done,” I say.

“Da,” Lev says, nodding.

A few hours later, our cell beeps. I grab it from the table, and Anatoly grabs his. I slide my finger over the screen and look at the text.

Lev ~ Done.