6. Ivan

CHAPTER 6

Ivan

" I 'm going to fucking murder you!" I grit out, clenching and unclenching my jaw as I consider just how thoroughly my brother has fucked up.

Alexei Volkov can best be described as a lazy, selfish, arrogant waste of space who just happens to be related to me by blood. There was a time I refused to believe that, and I actually went so far as to order a blood test. Back then, he had fucked up so phenomenally, I was close to shooting him.

Unfortunately, by some fluke of the universe, our DNA matches. Same mother, same father. Which continues to make zero sense because he's the complete opposite of me in every way. While we're completely different personality-wise, we do have some similar features.

He has the same dark hair and brown eyes I do. Standing side by side, it would be pretty easy to pinpoint we're brothers. Which just goes to show how fucking pissed I was when I ordered that ludicrous DNA test all those years ago.

Alexei drives me to the brink. The only reason I still haven't cut him off is because I take partial responsibility for the way he turned out. It was my responsibility to raise him and I failed in that aspect. Probably the only thing I've ever failed at.

He's currently sitting in front of me, slouched in his chair and not looking the least bit apologetic or even aware of the damage his actions have caused.

"It's too early for you to be playing the man who cried murder, Ivan. Seriously," he says, yawning and stretching like a house cat.

My right eye twitches. "It's eleven a.m., Alexei. And you've once again fucked up."

"What did I do this time?" he questions.

"You tell me. What've you been up to these past few months? Start with your trip to Miami. Who did you meet there and what did you do?"

I can see the minute he realizes exactly where this is going.

"Ivan… I can explain."

"Save it. I'll do the talking for you," I snap, pulling out a couple of pictures from a drawer of my desk.

I throw them onto the table so he can get a good look at them.

"That's you, isn't it?" I point at a picture where he's only in boxer shorts with his arm flung over the shoulders of a dark-skinned man with short brown hair. "And the other man is Javier Aguilar. Son of a particularly nasty drug lord that rules over the Chicago slums. Am I right? What's your relationship with Javier?"

Alexei's jaw is clenched as he manages to spit out, "We're friends."

"Wrong. You're accomplices. When you met three months ago, the two of you decided to come up with a business plan that guaranteed you success. You had the money to spare and Javier had access to his father's drug supply. So you had him steal some drugs behind his father's back and you hired some men to act as drug pushers for you. Your very own drug empire—isn't that right, Alexei?"

The rage that has been swirling in my gut has yet to simmer since the moment I landed back home. My hand twitches, urging me to reach for a knife and bury it in his arm, at least. If I can't kill him, I might as well cause him some fucking pain.

"Alright, I'll admit it. The plan was stupid and ill advised. I was wrong," he says cautiously, probably worried about the murderous rage I'm displaying.

He hasn't seen anything yet.

"You were wrong? Do you have any idea what happened yesterday?" I growl. "Your little business partner went on a drug run with the rest of your dumb miscreants. It was meant to be a simple drop off but someone must have tipped off the cops. There was a shoot-out; Javier got caught in the crossfire. And now he's dead."

My brother's eyes widen in shock. "What the fuck?"

"Do you understand the gravity of the situation now? Once his father heard the news of his death, he launched into an investigation, captured one of those goons you hired who was all too willing to sell you out as the brains behind the operation. And now Aguilar wants revenge."

"Shit," Alexei breathes. His eyes meet mine, an apology swirling in their depths. "Ivan. I swear, I didn't mean for this to happen. I was just trying to make my own way!"

"Shut the hell up. If you were so interested in business you wouldn't have blown the dozen chances I provided for you to join mine. You're a disgrace, Alexei, incompetent! You create a mess no matter what you do. Is it too much for me to ask you to not do anything? There's nothing wrong with being useless—the least you could do is not fuck things up for me while I'm trying to provide for the two of us!"

His eyes harden at that and his jaw tightens. He looks away, staring at a spot on the wall, his posture stiff.

"I'm sorry."

"Your apology isn't going to stop this fucking war, Alexei. Aguilar wants you dead. And I'd be inclined to let him have his way. But as fate would have it, you're my brother and I can't do that."

"Lucky me," he mutters under his breath.

I shut my eyes briefly in frustration. "You understand what I'm going to have to do, right?"

"Wipe out the Aguilars," he answers.

"Yes. Thanks to you, I've got to make the Pakhan and the rest of the Bratva aware of this situation and ask their leave to purse this."

I don't need their help to clean out a drug ring. But I can't make any decision solely on my own. Especially not decisions that could affect the entire organization.

"And what are you going to do to me?" he asks, referring to his punishment. "Cut me off? Exile?"

The last time I sent him away, it was to New York four years ago. I'm not sure what happened on that trip, but he came back slightly changed, more withdrawn. From what I've heard, he met some woman there, fell in love, and she broke his heart. I didn't give much of a fuck about the sob story. Except that the heartbreak seemed to temper his erratic tendencies for a while.

And now we're back here again.

"Just get out. And stay out of my sight over the next couple of days," I grit out.

He nods, getting to his feet. Before he leaves, though, I speak up.

"And yes, I'm absolutely cutting you off. If you take one step out of this villa in the foreseeable future, Alexei, I'll end you. I won't be the brother who cried murder anymore. I'll actually murder you. Understand?"

He doesn't look back at me but he does pause in his steps, the only indication that he heard me. Then he walks out, leaving me alone.

Ruslan enters a couple seconds later. "What now, boss?" he asks.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, thinking over a plan for the next few days.

"Gather as many of our men as you can. And tell Clyde to get the car ready. We're going to the Pakhan's house."

Ruslan nods and goes to do just that. The conversation I'm about to have is the absolute last thing I want to do. I'd rather chew asphalt than face the Pakhan right now, if I'm being honest.

It's a similar scene at the Pakhan's house, like always. People milling about, both men and women. Curiously when I arrive at his office, the door is locked. I have to wait for his head guard standing outside to send him a text announcing my appearance.

A few minutes later, the door opens and a scantily clothed young blonde walks out. A blonde that is decidedly not the Pakhan's wife. I keep my face blank at the sight, stepping inside once I'm cleared to do so.

He's seated behind his desk, looking not the least bit ruffled or abashed at his obvious adultery. Then again, I doubt his wife has ever had any false notions of his loyalty. Igor arches an eyebrow as I approach and I can tell from the glint in his eyes that he already knows why I'm here.

"You're going to make it a habit of dropping in unannounced, Volkov?" he asks in Russian.

I reply in Russian as well. "Only in necessary situations, Pakhan. We have a problem."

" Nyet . You have a problem," he corrects gruffly. "It would seem that little brother of yours is intent on being a thorn in your side for the rest of your life."

"So you know. Good. What do you plan to do about it?"

He grabs a bottle of whiskey and pours some in his glass, taking his sweet time to gulp down some of the liquid before replying to me.

"Absolutely nothing. This seems like a personal matter. Yours."

"Anything concerning me concerns the entire Bratva," I growl.

Igor raises his eyebrows. "Really? So you'd like to announce to the entire Bratva the depths of your incompetence."

My hands ball into fists. "I'm going to wipe out every single one of the Aguilars," I vow.

"You'll do no such thing. They were wronged, and in this case it follows that we try to appease them."

"The only appeasement they'll accept is my brother's head," I grit out.

He tips the glass in his hand toward me with a self-satisfied smirk. "There you go, then. The answer to your problem."

"I'm not sacrificing my brother."

"If you ask me, it's long overdue. How long do you think it'll be before he pisses off someone powerful enough to wipe us all out? I say feed him to the dogs and be done with him."

My eyes narrow. "Don't talk about my brother that way."

"So protective," Igor muses. "It's a waste that protectiveness is relegated to your undeserving brother. Have you ever considered getting married? I imagine a wife would do you some good."

"Because it's worked out so well for you," I drawl meaningfully.

The Pakhan frowns. "That doesn't matter, Ivan. I will not authorize a war with the Aguilars."

His words don't faze me because it's nothing more than I'd been expecting. So long as he continues to hold the position of Pakhan, he calls the shots. And while I might be powerful, I can't override any decision he makes.

That being said, I'm adept at the art of persuasion. Or blackmail if we want to be literal. And the Pakhan has so many juicy secrets to choose from. When I remind him of one of such secrets, he turns pale. Before gritting his teeth and giving me the permission I need.

"Make sure the Bratva doesn't suffer from your actions in this stupid war."

"Of course," I tell him, inclining my head. "Nice doing business with you, Pakhan."

He doesn't look up at me as I walk out of the office, probably thinking back to one of the more shameful moments in his past which I just reminded him of.

"The men are ready and waiting for your orders, boss," Ruslan mentions as soon as I step outside.

He doesn't even question whether I got permission from the Pakhan. He has absolute faith that I did.

"Where are the Aguilars now?" I ask as we walk outside toward the car.

Someone tries to talk to me, one of the high-up commanders. But a slight shake of my head has him changing course. I need to concentrate.

"Gearing for the fight at the factory they own."

"Good. We might as well take the fight to them," I mutter, stretching my hand so Ruslan can hand me some bandages.

We enter the car and I wrap my fists slowly as I think about how the rest of the day is going to go. I really do hate unnecessary murder. But by the time night falls, I've killed more people than I can count. And it's still not enough considering Aguilar's able to escape with his men.

It doesn't matter, I'll hunt him for as long as I have to.

Oddly enough, when I return to my villa, my thoughts travel back to the Pakhan's words. About me needing a wife. I'd be lying if I said I'd never considered it, but marrying always seemed like a bother. A marriage has never served any benefit to me. Until now.

I think back to a deal I made a couple of months prior and soon enough an idea starts to take root in my head.

This really is a dangerous game. But it's one I plan to win. All I need to do is to be patient. It'll all fall into place eventually.