Chapter 2 - Igor

I sit behind my desk in my library, where I keep my office. A lit cigar sits on an ashtray to my right, and a glass of whiskey is beside it. I pick up the cigar and take a deep drag. The move from Russia hasn't been easy on the family. It was tough leaving some of them behind to manage our affairs while I came to this side to establish our family in the US.

The biggest obstacle we face, much like we did in Russia, is our rival family, the Milovs.

They are the leading Bratva family in the US. Since his father died, Kervyn has led with swift, precise decisions and cultivated much power.

I set the cigar down and sipped on my whiskey. We need to strike at the Milovs where it hurts the most, and that's where their little sister comes into play.

The Milovs value family over everything, and their little sister is the most vulnerable one we can access. We did a lot of research to find her. It wasn't easy. She was cleverly hidden away under a new name. I wonder how long Kervyn thought he could get away with hiding his little sister.

My cell phone rings, and I pick it up. "Matvey? Is it done?"

"I have her," my little brother says. "It was easy, just as you thought it would be. Even with the Milovs around."

"Don't hurt her. Don't be too violent; it'll just cause attention. We don't want to draw attention to us just yet. They're the most powerful Bratva in the US. We need to play our cards right." I hang up.

I remember growing up with Kervyn and his brothers in Russia. My mind flashes back to us as teenage boys, on opposite sides because our families were already enemies.

When I woke up and got ready to go to school, it was a cold winter day. My mother had prepared kasha for us—a hot Russian porridge—and we sat at the table and ate together in silence as my father read the paper.

My mother served him some meat and eggs, and I remember longing for them. They looked delicious. My mother's cooking was always delicious.

My younger siblings weren't in school yet. They would stay with the nanny and my mother at the house. My mother gave me my school bag and kissed me goodbye, making me promise to be a good boy.

She always did that. She asked me to be a good boy when she knew very well the path that was laid out before me was anything but good.

It had snowed lightly, and I shivered despite wearing my winter clothes. I was eight years old at the time, and walking to school was a precarious thing that my father insisted I do. He wanted me to toughen up even though I had to cross Milov territory to get to the building.

This particular day was not my day.

As I crossed the park, two older boys stepped in front of me, and I paused.

Kervyn and Danil Milov stood before me, only somewhat older than me, but I could see Kervyn had in his hand a switchblade. They had warned me before about cutting through the park to get to school, but if I didn't, I had to go a longer route and would be late. If my mother walked with me, they would just hurl insults at me. My mother would remain silent as per my father's instructions.

That day, though, I stood alone, shivering in the cold wind.

I gripped my bag tightly and stepped back. "I'm not looking for trouble."

"Too bad you found a lot of it," Kervyn said, flicking his switchblade. "Do you like the gift I got from my father?"

"I will just go around," I mumbled, taking another step back.

Danil stepped forward. "I don't think so."

I turned and started running, hearing their footsteps landing hard behind me. I was on the track team, though, and for the moment, I was out-pacing them. I ran out of the park and up the road, people shouting as I passed them.

I made the mistake of glancing back and saw they were still chasing me. I panicked. I climbed under a fence and ran into the local railway yard, dodging between the train carts that were standing still like silent soldiers long defeated with no hope to offer.

"Get back here," Danil shouted; he was nearby. If I could make it to the other chain link fence on the other side, I could get out and maybe sprint all the way to school. They would make me pay for this, though.

I saw the fence ahead, and I smiled. I was going to make it.

That was when I was suddenly tackled to the ground. The wind was knocked right out of me.

"Get off me," I demanded, trying to wiggle away. Danil got me to turn over under him and sat on me, holding me down.

"Why did you run? Are you a coward?" he breathed.

Kervyn came strolling up. "Good job, Danil."

"Leave me alone. I didn't do anything." I tried to pull away, but Danil was much stronger than I was.

Kervyn bent down near my head and looked at me. "You breathed, Sidorov. Your existence is an insult to my family."

I tried my best to fight back, but without warning, Danil punched me in the face, and I was dazed. "Sit still." The demand was simple enough.

"How are we going to remind you who's in charge?" Kervyn asked as he knelt over me.

"Please," I groaned. "Just leave me alone."

"Maybe we should just kill him," Danil threatened. "No one would miss him."

"No, please," I tried to wriggle. Danil lifted his hand again and hit me in the face once more before he grabbed my face and held it.

I felt the icy cold tip of the blade and then a searing pain as Kervyn cut along my cheek.

"What are you children doing?" A man yelled from nearby.

Kervyn and Danil took off quickly, and I got up slowly. I could feel the warmth of blood running down my face as I got back to my feet. A hand came down on my shoulder.

"Let's take you home then." I looked up to see an officer.

"I didn't mean to come in here. The boys were chasing me. Please, I don't want to miss school."

The officer grimaced and shook his head. "Come on, let's go see your parents. This isn't a play yard."

Reluctantly, I led him back to my parents' house. He knocked on the door, and the worst possible thing that could happen happened.

My father answered.

He looked at me and then at the officer. He grabbed my face and lifted it. "Who did this to you?"

I didn't say anything.

"Who did this to you?" He lowered his voice, and I trembled.

"The Milov brothers. Kervyn and Danil," I said quietly, hoping it would lessen the blow.

"They were playing in the rail yard," the officer said. "I won't write him up this time, but it best not happen again."

He left, and my father backhanded me. "You coward. How could you let them get the best of you?"

"Igor," my mother cried from inside. "Nikolai, the child is bleeding. Bring him inside."

"The world is going to tear you apart, Igor. You need to learn to defend yourself. Tomorrow, you start boxing lessons." My father walked back into the house as my mother came and pulled me inside.

"You can stay home today," she soothed me. "Oh, this is going to scar your beautiful face, Igor."

She had always been like that. She was so caring that I was handsome and tall. She had stemmed the blood and bandaged me up before sticking me in the playroom with my brothers and sisters.

I still have that scar. I remember that day. I remember all the days they tormented me until their father decided to leave his brother in charge of the Russian operations and take his sons to America. I thought there would be peace then, but I felt an emptiness.

A need for revenge for all the misery they'd put me through.

Then, I learned about the family business and realized just how big enemies they were. How business flowed between us, stolen and stolen back.

Deaths.

Unnecessary deaths.

The Milovs versus the Sidorovs.

I waited for my father to challenge the Milovs in America, but he never did. I wanted him to take us abroad so that I could face my childhood bullies and take everything that belonged to them, but my father stayed.

He wanted to build the enterprise we were growing in Russia.

No one started with the Sidorov family.

No one except the Milovs.

I finish off my whiskey and kill my cigar. I stand and walk to the window to look out over the lovely garden I've had designed for my acreage.

I see the van pulling in.

Matvey is here with the girl.

I step away from the window and leave my office to enter the sitting room next door. I go over to the drinks cart and pour a shot of whiskey. I down the drink and turn as Matvey comes in carrying the woman over his shoulder. He lays her down on the sofa and joins me at the drink car.

I stare at her. Her natural beauty. She is curvy and luscious, and I can only imagine how beautiful she must be when she's awake. I turn to Matvey.

"You didn't hurt her, did you?" I ask quietly, not wanting to wake her.

"No, she struggled a little, but I overpowered her easily enough." He pours himself some bourbon and crosses over to the window to look out onto the drive. "I'm surprised the Milovs didn't notice and follow me. That was my biggest worry."

I pour another shot of whiskey and move to stand next to him. "I was going to use her as ransom, but I think I have bigger ideas for her. Did you really need to drug her?"

"She struggled, I told you." Matvey shrugs. "It was easier that way than having her cry out to her brothers and cause a scene."

"Is a little girl too much work for you?" I scoff. "I would think you'd be stronger than that."

Matvey glares at me, and I size up to him. "Have something to say?"

"No," he grumbles. "If you're not going to ransom her, what are you going to do with her?" I know he's trying to change the topic.

"I'm going to marry her," I say calmly. I sip my whiskey and look into his eyes.

"That's insane. You want to marry a Milov," Matvey says quietly as though the walls have ears. "What? So, they'll accept you as one of their own."

"I don't care if they accept me or not. I've seen her, and I want her. I will always take what I want," I say.

He frowns. "It's a bad idea, Igor. The Milovs will declare war if you take their sister by force."

"We are destined to be at war. The Milovs have always been our enemy," I hiss. "Do you know how many scars cover my body because of Kervyn and Danil? They will pay for every cut I have endured."

"Think clearly, brother," Matvey says. "Why tie yourself to a family we're going to bring down."

"To bring them in line where they belong," I spit. "Beneath me."

Matvey grabs my arm. "Don't be a fool."

"You call the head of your family a fool too easily, Mat. Perhaps you forget where your place really is."

"I do not," he says quietly. "I just want to protect you."

"I have always protected myself. I can continue to do so. Your job is to follow my instructions. Got it?" I look at him.

He looks away and then frowns. "Where is she?"

I turn around and look at the empty sofa. "You didn't tie her up?"

"I knocked her out with drugs. I didn't think she needed tying up," Matvey says as he sets his glass down.

"You idiot. Find her." I set my own glass down and follow him out of the room.