Chapter 1 - Marlen
Being patient is quickly wearing thin. The last few months have not been the best for my family or me. Ever since Diomid Abashin married that Shev sister, Angelika. The whole thing has been a giant thorn in my side. Diomid crashed my brother’s event, set off smoke bombs, then set off real bombs, effectively fucking up the entire event. And I’m supposed to sit quietly and accept this?
His family claims it was an auction involving kidnapped women, but Bardil has a different story entirely, and between my own brother and the Abashin family… I’d rather trust my brother any day. All this bullshit about Bardil owing the Sokolov family money is also hard to believe. He wouldn’t go behind my back like that. My brother can be impulsive at times, but not reckless. Everything Diomid claims my brother did is fabricated, an excuse to cover his own actions.
I look up from the paperwork spread over my desk. My corner office is on the top floor of one of the buildings I own in Miami. Giant glass windows give me an endless view of the city below. Through the polarized glass, the orange sunset looks more saturated, more vibrant than it probably is in real life. Cars stream like ants as after-work traffic builds on the streets below, and lights begin to flicker on in other buildings. Winter is around the corner, and the sun is setting earlier and earlier. These late Autumn skies are spectacular though.
I wish I were in the mood to savor them more.
I sigh and push my hands through my hair as I lean back in the leather chair, groaning out loud.
After Diomid contacted me about the whole situation that theyclaimwas an attack to stop a human auction, I assured him I wouldn’t retaliate.
The Abashins are closer to the Shevs than ever now. Their families are fully locked into an alliance. And the two families have brought the Sokolov family onboard now as well, apparently because of the money Bardil owes them. Those three families are not a group you want to mess with.
But I’m also not a man you want to mess with.
And theyhavemessed with me. With my brother. Withmyfamily.
As much as I wanted to, I didn’t retaliate against the attack on Bardil’s event.
But I don’t plan to ignore the situation entirely, and revenge is certainly in the cards for the accusations they made against Bardil, which put my family name in a bad light.
Standing up from my desk, I wander over to the window, shove my hands into my pockets, and stare down at the monotony of life playing out below me.
The city sleeps and wakes and repeats. Over and over again. Like robots, people move through their lives without ever really taking control, directing, chasing dreams and goals.
That’s why they’re down there, and I’m up here. I will never be like the average man. I was born for bigger and great things.
“Are you contemplating your existence?” Bardil’s voice comes from behind me.
“Actually, I was,” I chuckle, turning to face him. “I thought you were leaving early today. Why are you still here?”
“Got caught up in some admin. I decided to get it done while I was on a roll.”
He walks over to the window, too, and presses his face to the glass to watch the same scene that captivated me a moment ago.
“Like ants,” he muses.
A smirk plays over my face. He and I are different in a lot of ways, but also the same.
“I was thinking about the Abashins again.”
He grimaces, his face pulled tight as he throws me a pained look. “Fucking liars, all of them,” he grunts. “I don’t get why we let them get away with what they did.”
Bardil’s neck muscles pull taut, veins and tendons standing out as he grinds his jaw in agitation. I’m angry about the whole thing, but Bardil is seven levels above me in his hatred toward the Abashins.
“I’ve decided to play a little game of my own,” I say, immediately sparking Bardil’s interest.
“Is that so?” He turns from the window, fully focused on me.
His eyes follow me as I walk over to the dark wood bar in the corner of my office, and I pull down a crystal bottle filled with the finest vodka.
“You want one?” I ask, throwing two blocks of ice into my glass and splashing translucent liquid over them. People say that vodka has no scent. But it does. It smells like home.
“Yes,” my brother answers shortly.
Bardil has moved closer, sitting on the sofa near the bar.
