13: Blood and Borders
1060 Words
Nikolai’s POV
The door to my study is still open from when I stepped out.
Viktor does not wait for an invitation. He walks straight in like the house never stopped being his.
Lev tries to stop him but I signal to him to let him be.
His two dogs try to follow but I raise my hand.
“Just because he enters does not mean you dogs have access.”
My voice is quiet, deadly quiet.
They freeze.
Lev stands ready, his hand already on his gun.
I give him a small shake of my head. Let it go, for now.
Viktor strolls to the center of the room.
His arms wide, and his smirk wide.
He turns slow, so slow that I wanted to punch him.
He takes in the dark wood, the maps, the low fire.
“You walked into my house uninvited. That costs blood.”
I speak slowly making sure my tone hits him.
“Your house?” he says.
He laughs low but mocking.
“I once lived here too, little brother. Family does not need invitation or did you forget who taught you to hold a knife?”
I close the door myself, the click sounding soft and final.
I walk to my desk but I do not sit. I stand behind it.
My hands flat on the wood.
I speak slow again but this time, measured and cold.
“As I said earlier, you walked into my territory uninvited. That alone costs blood. Name your price or leave before I name it for you.”
Viktor drops his arms.
His eyes shining with the same hunger they always had.
“The Volkov girl and the doctor. I want them both. A clean deal. Hand them over and we stay friends.”
I taste the lie the second the words leave his mouth. It sits heavy on his tongue like cheap vodka.
He does not want the women.
He wants more than flesh.
He wants weakness.
He wants to cut me deep where the whole world can watch the blood drip slow.
He wants to see me bend.
He wants proof that the little brother can still be broken.
I keep my face stone, not one muscle moves, not one blink.
I give him nothing.
“You need to wake up from that dream. Anya is mine. Fully mine. And the doctor is under my protection. Find another toy.”
Viktor steps closer.
I count.
One step. Two.
His voice drops to a hiss.
“Father’s old allies still listen to me, Nikolai. One call and your borders bleed. One call and every shipment you have on the water burns. One call and Moscow wakes up to a new pakhan.”
I look at him.
My eyes cold and empty.
“Last I checked the whole of Russia runs under my command. Both you and Father’s old allies are just fleas.”
I let the silence sit. Heavy and crushing.
“Who gave you the confidence that you could threaten me? Some drunk generals in a dacha? A few washed up brigadiers who still kiss your ring? They are dead men walking. And you are the fool who stands in front of them.”
His jaw tightens as his hands curl into fists.
Good. I watch the anger rise behind his eyes.
“You think you are untouchable because you sit in Father’s big leather chair?” he spits.
His words come out like poison.
His face turns red with old anger while his eyes burn with hate that never left.
He leans forward, his hands shaking a little.
“I was born to that chair. You stole it.”
“That chair was made for the real son, not the boy who stole it with tricks and blood.”
“I earned it,” I answer.
“You lost it the day you put a bullet too close to Mother’s head. Remember?”
His face twists.
The name hits him like a blade but he recovers fast.
“Keep hiding behind her grave like a scared boy who never grew up. Keep the little pets you collar and chain. Play your cold games. But debts grow interest every single day, little brother.”
“And interest on blood is the most expensive price in the world. One day soon you will pay it all. With screams. With tears. With everything you think is yours.”
He turns to the door, his back facing me.
Perfect.
I speak to it, calm and final.
“Cross my gate again, Viktor,” I say, my voice low and slow, each word sharp like a blade sliding from its sheath.
“And I will dig the hole myself. I will bury what is left of you right next to Mother. Only deeper, much deeper.”
“So deep that even the worms will never find your rotten bones, and the crows will forget your name by morning.”
He freezes.
One second, two, three.
Then he walks out. His dogs follow fast.
And the door shuts behind them with a slam that echoes.
Silence falls. So thick and heavy.
I turn to Lev.
He is standing stiff as he waits.
I keep my voice low and controlled.
“Double the guards. Triple them. I want every gate, every wall, every shadow covered. I just do not understand how that bastard slipped through your men.”
“But I will let it go, only because the i***t knows every hidden place in these walls from when he was still welcome.”
I pause and let the weight settle.
“Move Sonya tonight. Take her to the new location. No one must know, not even the drivers. Burn the old safe house to the ground.”
“Leave nothing but black ash and smoke. And bring the girl to my room. Time she learns, truly learns, what ownership really means when it is carved into her skin and soul.”
Lev nods once. Sharp. “Yes, Pakhan.”
He leaves without another word. The door closes soft.
I stay behind the desk.
I look at the maps on the wall. Red lines mark my empire.
Viktor wants to draw new ones in blood.
He will learn.
I do not share. I do not forgive. And I never forget.
- Writer
