where the devil bows

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER TWO

A Seat at the Table

It was an ordinary night in Russia.

Or at least, it appeared to be.

Inside the Petrov mansion, the dining room was unusually quiet.

The large dining table was occupied by the entire family. Plates clinked softly against porcelain, cutlery moved methodically, and nobody seemed interested in breaking the silence.

It was normal for them.

Dinner was rarely a place for unnecessary conversations.

Until Alessandro Petrov finally spoke.

“How was your day?”

It wasn't directed toward anyone in particular.

Just a casual question.

Perhaps an attempt to start a conversation.

His two elder daughters immediately looked up.

“It was good, Dad,” they replied with smiles.

Roman, who had been busy scrolling through something on his phone, barely looked up.

“Good, Dad.”

Misha quietly observed everyone while continuing her meal.

Elina, however, simply nodded.

Her attention remained on her plate.

Alessandro nodded at everyone's answers before his gaze settled on his youngest daughter.

“Elina.”

She looked up.

“Your friends came to the mansion today.”

His voice was calm.

Almost too calm.

“You called your brother yo in front of them.”

The words were simple.

But the message behind them wasn't.

Disrespect.

Elina's eyebrow slowly rose.

She looked directly into her father's eyes.

The atmosphere changed instantly.

Everyone at the table felt it.

The calmness that had filled the room moments ago vanished.

Tension settled over the dining table like a heavy blanket.

Lia immediately sensed where this was going.

“Oh, Dad, actually—”

But Elina cut her off.

“Well, your son was also wearing nothing but trousers and an undershirt in front of my friends.”

Silence.

Elina didn't look away from her father.

“Doesn't he know how to dress in front of women?”

Nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.

Because everyone knew Alessandro Petrov didn't appreciate being answered back.

Especially not like this.

Misha's eyes immediately landed on Elina.

The warning in her expression was obvious.

Stop.

Elina ignored it.

She continued looking at her father.

Misha finally spoke.

“Elina, keep your eyes down. You're disrespecting your father.”

Elina's expression barely changed.

“How come making eye contact became disrespect?”

The entire table went silent.

Nobody seemed to know how to answer that.

Alessandro stared at his daughter for several seconds.

“Making eye contact isn't disrespect.”

His voice had become colder.

“But looking into my eyes as if I've said something wrong is.”

Elina's eyebrow lifted again.

“Oh.”

She leaned back slightly.

“So wasn't it wrong to tell me not to call your son yo while he can walk around wearing an undershirt in front of my friends just to flex a body he doesn't even have?”

Roman's head slowly lifted from his phone.

Lia closed her eyes for a moment.

Misha looked at Elina in disbelief.

But Elina wasn't finished.

“Isn't that discrimination?”

Her voice remained surprisingly calm.

She picked up her fork again.

“Well, if it bothers you so much, I won't talk to your son at all.”

A small shrug.

“Happy?”

Alessandro's jaw clenched.

“I didn't say not to talk to him.”

His voice was firm.

“I told you to speak with respect.”

Before the argument could escalate any further, Misha intervened.

“Let's continue dinner.”

Her tone was calm but carried enough authority to end the discussion.

Everyone listened.

One by one, they returned to their meals.

Elina simply shrugged and continued eating as though nothing had happened.

As though this wasn't the first time.

As though being misunderstood by her family was simply another ordinary part of her life.

A few minutes passed.

The tension slowly began to fade.

Then Alessandro spoke again.

“Elina, pass me the salt.”

Elina looked at him.

A sweet smile appeared on her face.

“Why don't you ask your son?”

The sweetness in her voice was almost insulting.

Everyone heard the fakeness.

Lia immediately shot her a disappointed look.

Misha did the same.

Alessandro's expression hardened.

“Why are you so jealous of your brother?”

Elina stopped eating.

For a moment, she simply stared at him.

Then she let out a small chuckle.

“Jealous?”

She looked genuinely amused by the accusation.

“Does he have anything to be jealous of?”

Her smile disappeared.

“Name one thing.”

Her eyes remained locked on her father's.

“A single thing that he has gotten better than me…”

She paused.

“…besides parents?”

The words struck harder than she intended.

Or perhaps exactly as hard as she intended.

Alessandro pushed his chair back.

The sound echoed through the dining room.

He stood.

His eyes were filled with anger.

He didn't say another word.

He simply turned and walked away.

The heavy sound of his footsteps disappeared down the corridor.

Elina watched him leave.

Then she rolled her eyes and calmly returned to her food.

Misha stared at her.

“Do you always have to answer?”

Elina continued eating.

“Why can't you listen when he speaks?”

For the first time that evening, Elina looked toward her mother.

Her expression was calm.

But her words weren't.

“Because I'm not you.”

She placed her fork down.

“Or your precious daughters and son who will listen to wrong things just because he says them.”

She stood from her chair.

Nobody stopped her.

Elina pushed her chair back and walked away from the dining table.

Her footsteps slowly disappeared upstairs.

One by one, the remaining members of the Petrov family began leaving the table.

The dinner was over.

But the argument wasn't.

Everyone knew it.

Tonight had only been the beginning.

Tomorrow would not be calm.

The Volkov Mansion

Meanwhile, on the other end of the country, stood a mansion filled with nothing but coldness and discipline.

The Volkov estate.

At the large dining table, the entire family sat in complete silence.

Everyone ate calmly.

No unnecessary conversations.

No laughter.

No disturbance.

Only the quiet clinking of cutlery echoed through the enormous dining room.

At one end of the table, Dante Volkov sat beside his father, discussing business.

Both legal…

And illegal.

“The shipment will arrive by Friday,” Dimitry said calmly.

Dante nodded.

“And the other one?”

“Already handled.”

Their conversation continued as though they were discussing nothing more than ordinary business.

Nobody else at the table dared interrupt.

Because in the Volkov family, speaking without permission wasn't something children were taught.

Discipline.

Order.

Those were the foundations of the family.

Everything had its place.

And if something stepped outside that order, punishment followed.

It didn't matter whether the person was family…

A friend…

Or an ally.

Rules were rules.

And the Volkovs didn't make exceptions.

After several minutes, Malyshka finally spoke.

“Your cousin Mira is coming tomorrow.”

Dante didn't react.

Not outwardly, at least.

His expression remained completely indifferent as he continued eating.

But the reaction from his younger siblings was very different.

Killian, Leo, Lucas, and Elisha exchanged wide-eyed looks.

Mira.

Their beloved cousin.

Or rather…

The cousin they absolutely couldn't stand.

Mira had one particular obsession.

Dante.

She constantly tried to get closer to him.

Of course, she never actually had the courage to approach Dante directly.

Instead, she tormented his siblings.

What did Dante like to eat?

What did he do in his free time?

What kind of women did he like?

What kind of clothes did he prefer?

What irritated him?

What made him happy?

Question after question.

Every.

Single.

Day.

The three younger siblings had suffered enough.

Malyshka noticed their expressions and immediately shot them a warning look.

Behave.

All three straightened instantly.

Dimitry didn't react.

Mira never bothered him.

She was far too afraid of him.

Just like almost everyone else.

Silence returned to the table.

Then Killian, the second eldest son, suddenly spoke.

“Mom, I'm going on a business trip tomorrow.”

Malyshka looked at him.

“I won't be back for a week.”

Everyone knew exactly why he had suddenly developed such an intense interest in business travel.

Mira was coming.

And Killian wanted to be as far away from the mansion as humanly possible.

Before anyone could respond, Leo spoke.

“I also have a college trip.”

Lucas immediately followed.

“And I'm going with my friends.”

Elisha looked at her parents.

“I'm going out with my friends too.”

Three perfectly convenient excuses.

Three desperate attempts to escape.

Malyshka and Dimitry simply looked at them.

Calmly.

Unimpressed.

Then Dante spoke.

“No.”

One word.

That's all it took.

The word landed across the dining table like a strike.

Silence.

Complete silence.

The three siblings froze.

Their expressions fell instantly.

Dimitry gave a small nod of approval.

He didn't need to say anything.

Dante had spoken.

And that was enough.

Malyshka looked at her children.

All three looked irritated now.

Very irritated.

But none of them dared argue.

Not with Dante.

Not with their father.

Dante calmly placed his cutlery down.

He stood first.

The chair slid quietly against the floor.

Without another word, he turned and walked toward the stairs.

His footsteps echoed through the mansion as he disappeared upstairs toward his bedroom.

A few moments later, Dimitry also stood and left.

That left only Malyshka and the three younger siblings at the table.

Elisha finally broke.

“Mom…”

Malyshka looked at her.

“Why does brother always have to control us?”

Her mother remained calm.

“It's for your own good.”

Elisha frowned.

“We don't want to meet that Mira.”

Killian nodded.

“Is it really that much of a problem?”

Malyshka looked at the three of them.

She knew they didn't like Mira.

She also knew they were terrified of Dante.

For years, she had tried to close the distance between Dante and his siblings.

She had tried to make them spend time together.

Tried to make them understand one another.

But somehow…

All that remained between them was fear.

Malyshka sighed quietly.

“If you have a problem…”

The three looked at her.

“…go talk to him.”

Silence.

All three siblings froze.

Their irritation disappeared instantly.

They looked at one another.

Talk to Dante?

Directly?

About this?

Absolutely not.

They might have been angry.

They might have hated the situation.

But they weren't suicidal.

One by one, they stood from the table.

Without another word, they stormed off toward their rooms.

Malyshka remained sitting alone.

She stared at the empty chairs.

A tired sigh escaped her lips.

She had tried.

For years, she had tried to erase the invisible wall between Dante and his siblings.

But no matter how many times she tried…

The result was always the same.

Fear.

They respected their eldest brother.

They obeyed him.

They even admired him.

But somewhere along the way…

Dante had stopped being simply their brother.

He had become someone they were afraid to disappoint.

And perhaps that was the greatest difference between the Volkov siblings.

They loved their brother.

But they feared him more.