Chapter 1

Maksim~

I t wasn't often that I frequented public places that didn't belong to us, but I was running on fumes, and so I'd decided to stop by Roasted to grab me another cup of coffee to get me through the rest of the day. Normally, I could go a couple of days without needing a pick me up, but I'd been busier than usual these days, still trying to find Nikel fucking Ovchinnikov.

It still blew my mind that I had a half-brother that was on a revenge kick to make me and my younger brother, Akim, pay for what our father had done to him and his mother. In truth, if Nikel Ovchinnikov had any sense at all, he'd be happy that Dimitri Barychev hadn't influenced his life. If we'd had the choice, Akim and I would have chosen different parents, Dimitr and Varya having been nothing but neglectful drug addicts that had failed us right at infancy.

Luckily for me, Avgust Kotov and I had become fast friends in grade school, so being the son of the Russian Bratva's Pakhan, Avgust had made sure that Akim and I hadn't ever starved growing up. While most people had given Avgust a wide berth, his connections hadn't scared me. I'd been resigned to not expecting a whole lot out of life, so I'd been used to violence on the street and all those other good things. My biggest concern had always been for Akim, and I had become more of his father than a brother early on, something that neither of us had minded.

At any rate, I'd been fifteen when both our parents had overdosed, and with little choice if I hadn't wanted my brother taken away by CPS, I'd gone to Mikhail Kotov, then had laid all my cards on the table, informing him that I'd do anything to protect my brother.

I had ended up killing my first enemy at the age of sixteen.

From then on, I'd done everything that'd been asked of me, and with my success rate, intelligence, and fearlessness, when Avgust had taken over as Pakhan for the Kotovs, I'd been selected as his sovietnik, both me and Avgust becoming the youngest leaders of the bratva in Kotov history. There'd also been no objections to Avgust's chosen panel, which said a lot since he'd made the decision to appoint an entirely new hierarchy.

Though comparable to the Italians, we also had a ranking within the organization. Avgust was our Pakhan, which equaled an Italian Don, meaning that he was the head of everything. I was Avgust's councilor, which equaled that of an Italian consigliere. In Avgust's absence, I had the authority to make decisions for the bratva, but now that Avgust and Samara had a son, my job was to make sure that their firstborn learned how to make those sound business decisions for himself.

Now, there were three other men that rounded out the upper ranks, though neither of them was more important than the other. They were the board members while Avgust was the CEO, and I was…I supposed that I was Avgust's understudy for lack of a better word.

At any rate, Akim was Avgust's boyevik, meaning that he was in charge of the warriors, or torpedoes as we liked to call them. However, there were also the kryshas and bykis, which were our muscle and bodyguards. We had an assortment of them, Damir Ivanov being our deadliest killer within the organization.

Then there were Avgust's brothers, Bogdan and Melor Kotov. Bogdan was Avgust's obshchak, which just meant that he was the bookmaker of the group, and Melor was Avgust's avtoriyet, which meant that he had authority over most things if Avgust or I weren't available.

Apart from Avgust, I was also the only Vor within the higher ranks. Damir had also been honored with the title, and he was one of a handful that wore the markings of a Vor proudly. Where the Italians had Made-Men, the Russian Bratva had Vors, and it wasn't a title given to many. You had to prove your worth with a considerable amount of personal ability, intellect, leadership skills, and charisma. You also had to be fearless and relentless in a way that others could not be. You had to be able to walk down the dark streets with the devil and keep up, which I'd been excelling in since I'd been fifteen.

Now, while some people would believe that I'd been the one to bring Akim into the bratva's folds, that was untrue. I'd always done my best to take care of my brother and steer him towards a healthier path in life, but we'd been close enough that Akim had wanted to follow me wherever I'd gone, and while his rise to the top hadn't happened as quickly as mine, Mikhail had seen the intelligence in Akim and had used him accordingly.

That was another thing that felt like a bit of a kick in the teeth. Though Akim had always been a smart man, my IQ hit genius level, but instead of changing the world, I'd chosen to bathe it in blood because it was a lot more financially beneficial to be bad than it was to be good.

Now, twenty years later, I had more millions than I would ever need, and I had a job that I enjoyed to the detriment of my faith and any chance of making it into Heaven. Still, I wouldn't change a thing about my life. All the choices that I'd made had led to Akim being safe and well taken care of, and that's all that mattered to me. So, having a crazed half-brother seeking revenge on us was something that was bothering me down to my soul, and I wasn't handling it well.

"Daddy, I'm hungry," came a small voice from behind me. "Do you think I can get one of those muffins over there?"

"No," the father snapped. "I don't have enough money to buy myself a coffee and you a muffin, Mindy."

"Oh," she replied quickly. "Then…can you make me something to eat when we get home?"

"If your mom's home, she can make you something," the father told her. "If not, make some cereal."

"Okay," came her quiet reply.

Though a psychologist would have a field day with me as a patient, it didn't take my genius IQ to figure out why anger was licking down my spine at how this man was treating his child. Remembering exactly what it'd felt like to go to bed hungry, this man was lucky that I wasn't pulling out my gun and making his daughter an orphan.

When it was finally my turn up at the counter, I ordered a large black coffee, nothing fancy, then added two muffins, one of each flavor. This little girl was going to get fed if I had to buy the whole goddamn café to do it.

After I paid for my stuff, since my coffee was simple, the barista was able to hand me my drink and the muffins immediately. When I turned to get out of line, two customers back, I saw the non-descript asshole with his expensive iPhone in hand, the little girl looking down at the floor.

I felt murderous.

"Hey, what's your name?" I asked, doing my best to make my voice sound soothing and not like I smoked a carton of cigarettes a day.

The little girl looked up at me, her big brown eyes shining brightly, almost as if she was eager to make a new friend. "Mindy."

I held the bag towards her. "There are two muffins in here for you, Mindy. Enjoy them."

At that, her father finally pulled his attention away from his phone. "Hey, what are you doing?" he snapped. "Stay away from my daughter."

It wasn't until I turned to face him fully that he finally noticed my size and my tattoos. Though a lot of people in Port Townsend like to believe that the Kotovs, Sartoris, and O'Briens didn't exist, they knew damn well that we did.

His face paled a bit as his eyes widened, and knowing that he wasn't going to say anything, I looked back down at his daughter, then said, "Hey, Mindy… why don't you go right over there to the menu and pick yourself some dinner. Can you do that?"

She nodded eagerly, letting go of her father's hand without even asking him. "Can I pick anything?" she asked as she took the bag of muffins from my hand.

"Yes, anything," I assured her.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed before taking off towards the menu board.

The second that she was out of earshot, I grabbed her father by his arm, yanked him out of line, then pushed my gun up against his ribs as I walked us over towards the restrooms, though I made sure that I could still see Mindy from where we were.

Not giving him a chance to speak, I said, "I am Maksim Barychev. Have you heard of me?" He looked like he was going to piss his pants as he nodded. "Good. Now, here's what's going to happen," I continued as I took his phone from him with my other hand. "I am going to go through your phone and learn everything that I can about you. Then I'm going to assign someone from the bratva to become guardian to your daughter, and if I hear of you choosing to buy yourself a coffee over feeding her ever again, your child will become fatherless after I spend days making sure that you know what it feels like to be starved, abused, and mistreated." I pushed my gun deeper into his ribs. "Have I made myself clear?"

"Ye…yes…yes…" he stammered. "Yes…"

Letting go of him, I said, "Whenever you look at that little girl, you better give thanks to her. After all, she's the only reason that you're still breathing."

With that, I left the asshole to go pay for whatever the little girl wanted to order.