Chapter Twenty-Seven

The moment my eyes open, I know that today is the day Igor Borisov will die. My hand searches for Lina, but her side of the bed is cold. I sit up and see that she is rocking Vasya in the glider. " Tsvetok (Flower)," I say, and her gaze connects with mine. "Have you been up long with him?"

"Da (Yes), a few hours now." She yawns, exhaustion all over her face.

"You should have woken me." I stretch, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and making my way over to them. I sit down on the floor at her feet, taking a foot between my hands as I run my thumbs across the arch.

Lina groans in response. "That feels so nice, moy lev (my lion). What time is it?"

"Nearly six," I reply. "Can I get you anything?"

"Your father's head on a silver platter?" Her chuckle leaves me unsure if it"s a joke or an exhausted truth.

"Soon. He dies today and I want you to be there for it," I switch to her other foot, showing it the same attention.

"I wouldn't miss it."

We moved my father over to his house and tied him to a chair in the middle of his office. Ilya has an array of blades on a rolling cart, all ready for me to torture my father until I am ready for him to stop breathing.

As I gaze at my father, bound and helpless in his chair, the very chair from which he ruled this bratva, a mix of emotions wash over me. Anger, resentment, and a twisted sense of satisfaction all swirl together in my mind. Today is the day I will finally exact my revenge on Igor Borisov for all the pain he has caused me and my family. For the shitty childhood full of abuse and emotional neglect, for mother.

I glance over at Lina, who is standing off to the side, her tired eyes filled with a mixture of exhaustion and disgust. She knows the significance of this moment and the closure it will bring to our lives. I am proud that this woman is moyazhena ( my wife); she is so strong and I cannot imagine life without her by my side.

I turn my attention back to my father and the array of tools laid out before me on the cart. Ilya and Oleg stand by, ready to assist me in whatever way I need. The room feels heavy, as if the walls sense the impending darkness..

As I approach my father, a surge of rage courses through me. The memories of his cruelty, the years of suffering he inflicted upon my mother and I, taking Lina and having her raped, fuel my every move. I pick up a sharp scalpel, its glinting blade reflecting my hate. This is my chance to make him pay, to strip away his arrogance and break him.

Let him see firsthand what he created.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself, and begin the torture. Each strike is deliberate, calculated, as I unleash my pent-up rage upon him. The room fills with his screams, each one a twisted symphony of retribution. I can't help but feel a sick satisfaction as I watch him writhe in pain, knowing that he is finally getting what he deserves.

My mind is overflowing with words, yet they refuse to find their way to my lips.

Blood covers my hands, my white shirt is saturated and the iron-rich scent permeates the air. "For every time you raped my mother, every time you beat me to get me to submit." The blade comes across his skin, the resistance of his weathered flesh making it a task to cut through. "For every moment Ivan raped Lina. I want you to suffer."

To my surprise, Igor takes the torture without spitting words back at me. His eyes never leave mine as I cut and dig the blade all over his exposed chest. Hours pass, and the toll of the torture leaves its mark on both our faces. Lina's eyes well up with tears, a mix of sorrow and relief. She understands the weight of this moment and the closure it brings to our tormented past. I'm grateful to have her by my side, sharing in this bittersweet victory.

Finally, I reached the point of no return. My father"s body bears the marks of battering and brokenness, and he gasps for breaths that are shallow. I pause, realizing this is the moment I"ve waited for. I lock eyes with Lina, a silent understanding passing between us. "Leave us," I motion for the twins to leave the room. "And close the door behind you. Don't come back in."

They nod and leave, closing the door. I drop into a crouch and look up at my father's hanging head. My father"s head hangs low as I remind him, "I told you I would choose her if I had to decide between saving your life or fucking moyazhena (my wife)."

"Lina, go and sit on his desk." Motioning for her to sit on top of it. Lina walks over and gathers the skirt of her dress, hopping up onto the edge of the desk.

"YA sozdal tebya, synok. Ty tot, kto ty yest' segodnya, potomu chto ya sdelal tebya takim. (I created you, son. You are who you are today because I made you this way.) You are Lev (the lion), the most feared man of the Borisov Bratva. All because of me. You have the woman you have because of me." Igor spits blood at me.

He is finally breaking.

This is exactly what I want.

"I won't slit your throat just yet. You will see the consequence of your actions," I say, my voice filled with anger and resentment. I pick up a nearby chair, and set it in front of Lina. "You will watch as the woman you had raped is worshiped by your syn (son)."

Lina looks at me, her eyes pleading for justice. She deserves closure, just as much as I do. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my trembling hands. Gripping the blade tightly, I walk back towards my father, his breathing becoming more labored with each passing moment.

I stand before him, and I can't help but feel a strange mix of emotions. Anger, yes, but also a deep sadness for the broken family we once were. But that doesn't excuse his actions, the pain he inflicted upon us. I drive the blade into his stomach over and over. The room echoes with the sound of the blade hitting the floor.

A fire burns under my skin as I turn and stride over to Lina. I kick the chair out of the way, abandoning the idea of tasting her. I unbuckle my belt and undo my slacks. My bloody hands glide up her thighs, spreading them apart so I can position myself between them.

"You are mine, Lina." I pull her to the very edge of the desk as I thrust, burying my cock inside her wet pussy.

"Yours," she moans, taking all of me. ‘One of her hands grips the edge of the desk, and the other holds onto my hip, pulling me deeper inside of her.

My eyes drift over to Igor. He stares right back at me, blood drips from his mouth, pooling on the floor. Lina's hand caresses my face. "Eyes on me," she whispers. I smirk, leaning in to kiss her, silencing her moans as my grunting resounds in the room. Lina surrenders her body to me, letting me use her to show my father who matters more. I don't deserve her. Yet here she is submitting to me, allowing me to use her body to torment Igor. Moya I'vista (My Lioness).

I lean her back to where she lies on the desk, driving into her at a merciless pace. "Touch yourself, Lina. I would, but I don't want his blood to touch that part of you." She looks down at my hands, covered in his blood. I have already gotten his blood smeared all over her thighs. Lina nods, her hand slipping between her thighs, finding her sensitive clit. Her hips meet my thrust as she circles her clit, slowly.

"You are so beautiful when you are just about to fall apart. Come for me, Lina. Baptize my cock with your cum. I worship you, moya I'vista (my lioness)." Lina screams my name as her orgasm crests, her thighs trembling as her pussy clenches around my cock, pulling me in deeper as I try to pull back.

With a roar, I cum inside of her, giving her everything I have to give. After a few moments of silence, I pull out our combined release, dripping down her thighs onto my father's desk.

Lina reaches her hand across the desk, grabbing a sharp letter opener. She holds the tip to the pad of her index finger, drawing blood. Sitting up, she brings her finger to my head, making a cross on my throat, forehead, and lips with her blood.

"You've been baptized, moy lev (my lion)." I take her finger, sucking it into my mouth, letting her blood coat my tongue. I drag it out slowly, placing a tender kiss on the puncture as it meets my lips. "Finish him. Then we go home to our syn's (son"s)."

I tuck my cock back in my pants, doing them back up. Igor slumps forward, but his chest rises with labored breaths. Lina straightens herself up and ends up at my side. I reach into my pocket for my favorite knife. The same knife Lina used to end the life of her mother.

"I'll see you in hell, Igor." With a final plunge, I end Igor Borisov tortured existence. I plunge the blade into his neck and as I withdraw it, blood spurts out in rhythm with his slowed heartbeat. The room falls silent, the only sound is the echo of our heavy breaths. We stand there, in the aftermath of our revenge, surrounded by blood and a new beginning.

As I look at Lina, her eyes filled with a mix of emotions, I feel a sense of closure wash over me. The chapter of pain and suffering that my father brought upon us is finally closed. We can now move forward, healing the wounds and rebuilding our lives.

But even in this moment of victory, a part of me wonders if revenge truly brings peace. As we leave the room, hand in hand, I can't help but question the darkness that lives within us all. And I silently vow to break the cycle, to ensure that my boys, Dmitriy and Vasya, and any other children I have will never know the pain and suffering that consumed our lives.

"Shut the fuck up and listen," Ilya shouts, his voice booming through the warehouse.

Ilya's words hung in the air, commanding the attention and respect of the members of the Borisov Bratva. The weight of his authority was tangible, and everyone knew that a new era was dawning.

As I stood before the assembled men, their faces reflecting a mix of curiosity and apprehension, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. These were the people I grew up with, the ones who stood by me always. Now, it was my turn to lead them.

With Lina by my side, holding a sleeping Vasya close, and Dmitriy standing tall beside her, I feel a sense of completeness. We are a family, and together we will shape the future of the Bratva.

"Igor Borisov is dead," I say, my voice steady and resolute. "I killed him. He paid for the atrocities he committed against moya zhena (my wife). His reign of terror ends here and now."

A murmur ripples through the room, shock and relief. Igor Borisov had ruled with an iron fist, inflicting pain and suffering on those under his command. The time for a new beginning has arrived.

"I am your Pakhan," I declare, my voice carrying the weight of my responsibility. "And my syn's (son"s), Dmitriy Igorovich Leonov and Vasily Igorovich Leonov, will be the future leaders of this Bratva. They will carry on our legacy, and you will respect them as you would me."

I look around the room at each member, ensuring that my message is loud and clear. This goes beyond leadership, altering the Bratva"s core fabric.

"But it goes beyond that," I continue, my tone unwavering. "You will treat my syn's (son"s) with utmost respect, but you will also treat moya zhena (my wife), with the reverence she deserves. She is the heart of this family, and her well-being is non-negotiable."

I see the agreement and understanding in their eyes. They recognized the significance of loyalty and unity, understanding our family is the core of the Bratva.

"Things will change," I assert, my voice resolute. "This Bratva will be built on honor, loyalty, and respect. We will protect our own and not tolerate any betrayal or weakness."

The room fell into a persistent silence, the weight of my words sinking in. Change is never easy, but it is necessary. And together, we will forge a stronger, more righteous future for the Borisov Bratva.

With a nod of acknowledgment from the men, I turned to Lina and gently kissed her forehead. Our new life begins now, and with her beside me, we"ll conquer challenges with limitless strength and love. This is a new Bratva.