Page 6

"I take over family business," I said, sitting at the head of the long table with Nikolai and Ivan on both sides of me.

Yury sat beside Nikolai and Arina last minutely chose to sit by Ivan's side.

"I'm sure your family must be proud of you," Yury said as he ate his food.

I was waiting for my vodka to begin eating.

"My father was proud," I said, and Yury seemed to catch onto the past tense immediately, only nodding once in response.

He looked much cleaner here at the table this evening.

In a matter of hours, he had already cleaned up, changed into fresh clothes, and seen a doctor.

Arina also wore a soft pink sweater and leggings, wearing her light brown hair down, which shined from the care given to it.

"You're quiet," Arina said, poking Ivan's arm as he sat stiffly at the table.

I motioned at her, "Leave him be," I said, eyeing Ivan who remained still, unfazed by Arina's presence.

"How do you like the compound?" Nikolai decided to ask.

Yury immediately smiled, "Very nice—anything's better than a tent," he said, helping himself to a second serving of food.

I felt weirdly satisfied at the sight of him and Arina eating so much.

They're both unnaturally skinny.

"Finally," I sighed, noticing the man approaching me with my favorite bottle of vodka in hand.

Yury tilted his head as he watched the man pour the vodka into my crystal glass, "You drink often?" he asked, taking a bite of his food.

I nodded once, "My favorite pastime," I spoke blatantly, picking up my filled glass for a sip.

And finally, I could begin eating my meal in peace, listening to the conversation of Arina and Yury.

It was the most that had been spoken at the dinner table since I was a child.

Now, all we talk is business.

Tonight, we also discussed the school that Arina would be attending.

The same private school as mine as specified.

If she's under my roof then it's a right of passage.

Which Yury was extremely thankful for—wanting nothing more than for Arina to have a proper education.

Arina was standoffish, but she'll work past it in the next three days when Monday approaches.

"Via," I heard his familiar soft voice say from behind me.

I immediately turned my head, noticing Yury quickly catching up to me even with his painful limp.

My light eyes naturally glanced down to the bottle of water in his hand—noticing he held one of the two bottles out for me.

"You stay hydrated when you drink okay?" he said, gently grabbing my hand which naturally made my body stiffen.

Until he placed the bottle in my palm and gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

"You drink a glass of vodka—then you drink a glass of water," he instructed, smiling contently as walked past me.

Meanwhile, I remained stuck in place, feeling the oddest warmth crawl up my body.

I had to physically purse my lips tightly together, fighting back a positive reaction to his selfless actions.

Yury might just be the second person I can genuinely stand aside from my father.

And that says a lot.

I let out a deep sigh, entering my room where I planned to refresh my appearance and change for tonight's club outing.

With this new fucking shipment, I had no other choice but to go meet with all my dealers.

Even if I prefer being at home in my own company.

I decided on a small black blazer dress, covering my exposed long legs in black stockings and slipping on black stilettos.

I refreshed my brown silky hair that I wore down and reapplied my lip gloss.

I also decided to chug the entire bottle of water given to me.

A weird part of me felt like not drinking it would let Yury down.

And for some reason that actually mattered to me?

I let out a sigh as I walked down the stairs, glancing around for my favorite girls who normally find me at the click of my heels.

Yet they were nowhere to be found?

So I quickly headed downstairs, whistling loudly to capture my dog's attention.

Who luckily came running towards me from the dining room.

With Arina chasing behind them?

I raised a sharp brow, "Shouldn't you be in bed?" I said, eyeing the time on the clock behind her.

It's almost twelve.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Arina countered back, mimicking the look I held on my face.

Which naturally made my eyes narrow, noticing the cookie crumbs on her lips.

I rolled my eyes to myself, leaning down to pet Misha and Varya—who approached me after two snaps.

"That's how they let you pet them?" Arina asked, clearly unaware of their training.

I nodded once, "Two snaps and they'll approach you—tell them to stay and they stay," I told Arina as I scratched behind their ears, "No table food, they have a strict diet."

Arina crossed her arms over her chest, "I don't feed them random stuff—I love dogs," she said, eyeing my presence for a moment, "But I don't like you," she emphasized.

I grew amused at her statement, preferring dislike over love.

"There's fresh Medovik in the fridge," I told her, deciding to cue her in on more desserts, one of which was a Russian sponge cake, "But bed by twelve Arina," I said, rising from my dogs who I told to stay Russian.

Arina eyed me with a narrowed look, "You aren't my mom," she said distastefully.

"I never wanted to be," I said with a tight smile, "You have no house training, Vorovka," I told her, using the Russian word for a female thief.

Arina rolled her eyes, "I eat all your Medovik," she said, turning on her heel as she snapped her fingers two times.

My dogs still stayed put my side.

Until I snapped my fingers twice and motioned them along to follow her.

"I hope you get a stomach ache eating it all," I said sarcastically, turning on my heel to exit the cold house into the harsher cold.

Where my men waited outside the running car.

There were SUVs that sat running in front of it and behind it—waiting for me to leave.

Inside the chauffeured Maybach sat Nikolai and Ivan, who were accompanying me to this club with my numerous men.

Kremlin was lined with numerous crowds of people as usual, especially since it was a Friday night.

A time when I preferred to be at home.

Yet here I am getting escorted into the club of packed sweaty people—who my security didn't let even brush me.

The idea of any of them touching me left me repulsed as I walked to the back of the club where a private room and my numerous dealers awaited me.

The music was more of a faint thump and the lights were a little less dimmed.

"Drinks are on me tonight," I said, walking into the room of men and women who sat on the velvet couch, "So are the drugs," I casually added, motioning my men holding the black duffel bags.

The clear bags of white pills could be seen as soon as they unzipped the bags and sat them firmly on the table.

"You each take ten percent revenue and charge one fifty in American dollars and fourteen thousand in Rubles for one gram," I specified, eyeing them all with a narrowed look, "Fall short by the end of next week and we replace you," I emphasized.

And they all knew what replaced meant.

You lose your spot as a dealer and your life.

Simple.

"Enjoy your nights," I said through a tight smile, not bothering to give any of them a chance to speak as they grabbed their own bags of shipment.

And as I exited the back room where Nikolai and Ivan began distributing everything for them, I let out a deep irritated sigh, ready to be out of the obnoxiously loud club.

Until my eyes landed on her.

Nerissa Chernov.

Known as the Czarina.

She was the wife of one of the powerful leaders of another Russian mafia.

One of the many mafias below us.

Nerissa's husband coincidentally died and now she leads the mafia for him.

But we all know she killed him.

"Nerissa," I spoke through tight teeth, eyeing her appearance.

She wore a small dress that clung to her tanned body with an open trench coat that draped down past her legs.

Her dark hair was parted and down in waves, wearing dark liner that emphasized her green eyes.

I hate every inch of her existence.

The way she talks to me passively, how she eyes me as less than—I'll rip her eyes out with my bare hands if she thinks to do it again.

I told her that years ago and she hasn't dared to meet my eyes since.

"Koslov," Nerissa spoke, smoking her disgusting cigarettes as she sat among random scruffy men.

I naturally took a step back to avoid smelling like her.

I might have nasty habits but at least I don't smell.

Cigars always smell better.

"I heard about your father," Nerissa had the nerve to mention.

I smiled tightly, watching as her green eyes avoided mine, "Yes, well that's what happens when people die in a natural way," I purposely said, hinting at her husband's unnatural death.

Nerissa smiled genuinely to herself, "Very true Koslov," she said, motioning to the bottles on the messy glass table, "You want a drink?" she offered.

But I knew her offer was a personal jab back.

Her husband died from being poisoned.

Nerissa claims he had enemies but he was known for being weird about his food.

He always ensured someone tried his meals first—which left Nerissa as the only one close enough to poison him.

"You make me a glass and drink it yourself," I said, eyeing the different bottles, "I don't drink with zmei," I added, using the Russian word for snakes.

Which is exactly what she embodies.

"You should more often Koslov," Nerissa said, pouring herself more champagne into her glass, "Always keep your enemies closer."

My tightened smile grew, "Only the ones that serve a real threat," I said, lifting my heel up and digging my stiletto into the glass table.

Which shattered under the harsh impact—forcing all the glass bottles to fall onto the dark floors and break apart in shreds of sharp glass.

Everyone nearby naturally backed away with wide eyes and gasps.

So dramatic.

"You've always been nothing to me, Nerissa," I said, tugging my fur coat closed as I backed away from the mess of glass I made, "Humble yourself a little more."

And before she could form a response or have the nerve to insist I have the mess cleaned up—I backed away from the section that she sat in with her pathetic excuse for security.

The night air nipped at every edge of my face as I tugged the hood of my fur coat over my head, walking with my men back to the running Maybach.

But since Nikolai and Ivan were still in the club supervising the distribution of the new shipment, I was forced to wait a few more minutes.

I didn't necessarily mind waiting in silence, especially with how loud it was inside that club.

But eventually, they both exited the club with men huddled around them as they approached the car I sat waiting in.

And once I got confirmation from them that everything went well—I instructed the driver to head back to the compound.

The house was silent as I preferred it, walking past the heavy marble front doors toward the kitchen.

Nikolai and Ivan walked behind me, a calm silence in the air as I awaited Misha and Varya's paw patters.

For the second time today, I got nothing.

But only because they were cuddled up to Arina on the couch.

The dish of Medovik was half eaten—sitting out on the table while Arina slept peacefully.

Her mouth was lined with white icing and cake crumbs, holding the messy spoon tight to her chest.

My dogs didn't lick or eat any of the food considering their training, but for once they remained still under Arina even in my presence.

She had her legs spread out over Misha while her head remained on Varya's body.

I tilted my head, noticing Ivan walking towards the couch.

Even Nikolai looked confused, watching as Ivan gently grabbed the spoon from Arina's hand and set it on the table.

Arina stirred slightly from her sleep but inevitably sunk down into Ivan's arms which held her protectively as he walked past us.

"Weird," Nikolai mumbled, watching as Ivan carried Arina towards the stairs.

Meanwhile, I glanced over to Misha and Varya who stood from the couch to greet me.

I snapped twice before they could sit in front of me, leaning down to their height to pet them.

"This all works after all," I said, determining this dynamic could be good for us.

Nikolai nodded, "It does," he agreed with me, following me and my dogs upstairs where I planned to settle in.

I also thought about calling one of the numerous women in my phone to help take the edge off.

"Go busy yourself with another guy, Kol," I said, knowing he most likely already had plans to hook up with someone tonight.

Nikolai smiled, "I do it happily," he said as we ascended the stairs together, "You have plans?" he asked me.

I lazily raised my brows, "Between someone's legs, da," I said, my lips twitching up slightly when Nikolai's smile widened.

"There's the Via we know," he said, patting my shoulder as we stopped at the top of the stairs, "You tell me which one and I get a car sent for you."

I hummed in approval, "I'm thinking Alya. It's been a while and I think she would be desperate," I determined, which immediately earned a nod from Nikolai.

"They all are desperate," he said, shaking his head at me in amusement, "But I get car sent now."

I nodded, "I see you tomorrow," I mumbled, backing away from him to head down the furthest hallway to my room.

"Tomorrow, Via," Nikolai said, walking back down the marble staircase while my dogs followed behind me.

I spent the majority of an hour with Misha and Varya, drinking a glass of burning vodka and then a glass of water to counter it.

Until Alya arrived.

As expected.

Her dark hair was up and she wore a tight dress with a coat on over it.

Both were off her body by the time I got her in one of the guest rooms, keeping my hookups far away from my bedroom.

It was always fulfilling being between any woman's legs, holding a certain power over them as they chased a desperate release.

After the ups and downs I've experienced these last few days, it was exactly what I needed.

A few times to say the least.

And Alya wasn't allowed to touch me once—I never allowed anyone to.

By the time I was finished with her, she could barely stand on her own legs—wobbling down the stairs as I headed toward my room.

But my nerves were much more smoothed, especially after taking a Xanax and a long shower.

After such a long day, I finally settled into bed wearing nothing but my pink satin robe—allowing my dogs to lay at the end of my mattress.