This… twin.
The word feels foreign on my tongue, bitter and sharp.
A brother.
A fucking twin brother.
It’s impossible. It has to be.
But even as I try to deny it, I can’t ignore the truth staring me in the face. The same sharp jawline, the same piercing eyes. The same blood running through our veins.
You don’t fucking need a DNA test to know we are related.
The man flicks his cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his boot.
“Privet, brat,” he greets in Russian.
I clench my fists at my sides, feeling the rage begin to boil up inside me.
“I don’t know who the hell you think you are,” I spit out in English, “but you’re nobrotherof mine.”
The man just smirks, pushing off his car and taking a step toward me.
“Name’s Ludis. Ludis Kuznetsov, and believe me, I didn’t want to believe it either. But the truth is, we’re twins. Dear old Papasplit us up and hid me away. Left me to rot while you got to live the high life.”
I shake my head in disbelief, my mind reeling.
How could this be possible?
How could I have gone thirty-three years without knowing I had a twin?
Ludis takes another step forward, anger flashing in his eyes, his words sharp and to the point.
“I’ve been watching you,brat. Watching you lead the bratva, watching you get everything I should have had. And I’m sick of hiding in the shadows.”
I clench my fist tight. Memories hit me like a freight train.
Suddenly, I’m 6 years old again, standing in the dank basement of Papa’s estate. The stench of blood and fear hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the acrid tang of Papa’s cigarette smoke.
“Pay attention,syn,”he growls. “This is what happens to those who betray us.”
I watch, transfixed, as his men work over the battered man strapped to the chair. His screams echo off the concrete walls, a symphony of agony and despair.
“But… but why, Papa?” I ask, my 6-year-old voice trembling. I clutch at his pants leg, feeling like I might piss myself from fear. This isn’t right. This isn’t what good people do.
Papa’s eyes flash with annoyance. He shakes off my grip roughly. “Quit your sniveling, Leonid. This is the way things are. The way they have to be.”
He turns back to the beaten man, nodding at his enforcer. “Continue.”
I flinch as the screams start up again, each blow landing with a sickening crunch. Papa watches with cold satisfaction, like a predator savoring a kill.
I swallow hard, forcing back tears. I know better than to show weakness in front of Papa. But inside, a small part of me rebels. This can’t be the only way…
Papa places a heavy hand on my shoulder, his fingers digging into my flesh. “One day, this will be your responsibility, son. You will bePakhan, and it will be your duty to maintain order. To punish those who dare to cross us.”
I nod, too afraid to look away.
“You’ll be ruthless, Leonid.”
