Chapter One
Ivan
Unlike my other brothers,I wasn’t bred for killing and bloodshed. For most of my life, I’d been sheltered from it.
I never saw my father come home with blood on his hands, and I never knew that my older brothers were in on it. I was oblivious to most of it until Dimitri ran for office, then all the shit hit the fan.
I didn’t think I had it in me to kill or to want to kill until my mother was brought into the mix. My sweet and loving mother, who never deserved to have a finger lifted in her direction, was targeted and dragged through it.
All for what?Money.
I was tired. I wasexhausted
But then my father came for my mother, the one person who had fought so hard for my innocence growing up, and there she was… beaten and bruised. All by the man who was supposed to love her.
I didn’t know why I was spared from the violent crime life the rest of my family led, but I guess, in a way, it was a mercy. I was able to get an education. I knew how to manage my own money, and I could get a job just about anywhere I wanted. But I didn’t want any of that. I didn’t want more money than I knew what to do with. I didn’t want fame. I didn’t care about the lavish lives they all curated for themselves.
Unfortunately, everything that happened with my mother only fueled me wanting to get away from the city and away fromthem.
I bought this cabin in the mountains, hoping to disappear. What I found was silence… and a strange peace in the wilderness. I learned to hunt. I learned to listen. The lake below—now frozen—became my haven in warmer months.
I placed my untouched glass of whiskey on the table beside the floor-to-ceiling windows and watched as the snowstorm swallowed the world outside.
No one could reach me out here. The spotty cell reception was a gift. An excuse to ignore the world. The texts. The voicemails. The digital noise.
I didn’t care who was live-streaming their curated lives. I didn’t care what the city was buzzing about. None of it mattered anymore.
All I wanted was silence—and time to think.
I sighed as I headed to my kitchen and pulled the freezer door open. I’d thought I had enough meat to last me through the winter, but I’d grossly underestimated how hungry I would be.
Clearing the land before the snowfall had nearly broken me. I spent days hauling brush, felling trees with a chainsaw, and most evenings learning how to split wood like a damn pioneer. Every muscle in my body ached. And yet, somehow, the grind brought me peace. I’d never worked so hard for anything in my life. I’d never wanted for anything in my life.
Raking a hand through my hair, I blew out a slow breath.
I’d never hunted in the snow before. Didn’t know if I had it in me—but I didn’t have much choice. I could risk the drive into town and end up snowed in, or I could do what I came out here to do: survive on my own terms.
This life was my choice.
In the last two years, I’d become a damn good marksman. I had the best gear, including the best rifles and optics. But even the best equipment meant nothing without a steady hand and patience.
Fortunately, I had both.
I dragged the mule deer carcass through the snow, leaving a dark trail behind me as I neared the cabin.
It wasn’t the smartest move, but the 4x4 wouldn’t start—and I couldn’t leave fresh meat and blood out in the open. Not with wolves likely already catching the scent.
Hunting in the snow wasn’t the worst thing I’d ever done, but it sure as hell wasn’t easy either.
I hauled the deer onto the work table and ran throughthe mental checklist: skin, quarter, and preserve. I’d taught myself to use every part of the animal, and that’s exactly what I intended to do. But not tonight. The cold would keep the meat fresh, and I was too damn sore to deal with it now.
I strung the body up, locked the shed tight, and started the slow, aching trek back to the cabin—snow swallowing me thigh-deep with every step.
Calling it a cabin felt like a stretch. The blacked-out structure rising before me looked more like something out of a nature magazine. I'd sunk my entire inheritance into this place.
And after just a few months, I knew I’d made the right call.
Out here in the middle of nowhere, with no neighbors and nature as your only friend, you didn’t worry about locking the doors.
