His Dangerous Craving

{Petrov's Estate} Snow fell in silent drifts from the slate-gray sky as the iron gates of the estate groaned open. A sleek black limousine drove through the snow-covered driveway, stopping before the grand stone entrance of the Petrov compound, the seat of the oldest and most powerful Bratva clan in Russia. The rear door opened, and Mikhail stepped out first. His long brown hair shifted in the biting wind as his boots hit the pavement. His sharp eyes scanned the compound before he adjusted his leather jacket and walked forward without a word. The guards posted along the entrance bowed deeply. Konstantin stepped out next, pure boredom etched across his face. Every strand of his golden hair was styled perfectly. He paused, narrowing his eyes as he glanced back at the open car door. "Aren't you coming out?" he asked in a flat voice. After a few seconds, Aleksei stepped out of the vehicle. Tall, broad-shouldered, and striking, he rose to his full height. The wind tugged at his dark hair as he lifted a cigarette to his lips, taking a slow drag before exhaling a trail of smoke into the freezing air. Konstantin didn't wait. He turned and walked toward the entrance. Aleksei crushed his cigarette beneath his boot and followed, hands slipping casually into his pockets. ………. In the center of an opulent marble bathroom, submerged in warm water, sat Anastasia Petrov. Damp dark hair framed her sharp features, and her dark eyes held a faint, dangerous glint. Anastasia was the first woman to hold the title of Pakhan in the Russian underworld. After her father's death, she had seized power through a ruthless strategy, mercilessly eliminating anyone who dared challenge her authority. The soft creak of the door broke the silence, and a young maid stepped inside, keeping her gaze on the floor. "The princes have arrived, Your Ladyship," the maid announced, her voice barely above a whisper. "They arrived together... in one car. Prince Aleksei was with them." A slow, satisfied smirk touched Anastasia's lips. "Good." She had ordered them to arrive together as a test of obedience. She leaned her head back against the marble edge and closed her eyes, pleased that even Aleksei still knew better than to openly defy her commands. ……. Inside the grand dining room, Aleksei checked his watch, his index finger tapping restlessly against the dining table. One hour. They had been sitting here for a full hour, and their mother had yet to show her face. She was doing this on purpose, trying to get under his skin. Aleksei drew in a slow breath, forcing himself to stay calm. Beside him, Konstantin scrolled on his phone, not cared about by the delay. Across the table, Mikhail stared at Aleksei, raw hostility burning in his eyes. While Aleksei and Konstantin maintained a quiet truce, Mikhail made no effort to hide his bitter jealousy. And Aleksei gave no f**k. Finally, he stood up and headed for the exit. "I never said you could leave." Anastasia’s cold voice cut through the room. She walked in dressed in a tailored black suit, her heels clicking sharply against the marble. Konstantin looked up from his phone, while Mikhail immediately straightened in his seat, playing the role of the dutiful son. Aleksei glanced over his shoulder. "Then you shouldn't have kept me waiting." Anastasia ignored the remark and took her seat at the head of the table. Aleksei paused before sitting down as well. Maids moved forward in quiet sync, serving the meal. "Why am I here?" Aleksei asked, his deep voice cutting through the silence. Anastasia didn't look at him. "Why the hell am I fuckin'...?" he repeated, turning to face her. “Watch your mouth,” Mikhail cut him off, clenching his fists at his brother's tone. "You don't speak to her like that," he snapped. Aleksei slowly turned his head. "This is the last time you will interrupt me. Keep your head down and play the obedient son like you're supposed to." "Let's eat," Anastasia ordered, shutting down the argument. Aleksei pushed his chair back once more. "I'm not doing this. I'm leaving." "Sit down," she commanded, sharply. "Not happening." Aleksei smirked. In a swift motion, Anastasia drew a handgun from her coat and aimed it directly at his back. "One more step, and you don't walk out of this room." Aleksei paused, then turned around slowly. His smirk deepened, dark amusement flashing in his eyes. He clearly loved being challenged. "I must've struck a nerve," he said, his tone dangerously light. Anastasia tilted her head, the gun steady in her grip. "I was trying not to get violent tonight," Aleksei continued. “That's why I put up with your little order about coming in one car. But you're pushing it. I'm taking that step... and if you don't shoot, you're not who you claim to be." He turned, taking a step forward, and Anastasia pulled the trigger. "Don't!" A man's voice boomed as Yuri Petrov rushed into the room, lunging forward to knock her arm aside. The bullet whizzed past Aleksei's shoulder and embedded itself into the far wall. Guards posted at the doors shifted subtly, but Aleksei didn't even flinch. "Yuri!" Anastasia hissed, her eyes dark with rage. Yuri, her older brother and one of the country's most respected surgeons, panted as he stared at her. "Are you out of your mind? Are you actually going to shoot your own son?" "He asked for it," she retorted coldly. Yuri shook his head in disbelief. "When will this madness stop, Anastasia?" "Speak some sense into him, then!" Anastasia snapped, and Aleksei scoffed. She gave him a hard glare before turning sharply on her heel and storming out of the dining hall. Yuri let out a heavy sigh and looked toward Aleksei, who simply shoved his hands into his pockets and walked past him without a word. Konstantin picked up his fork and resumed eating in silence, while Mikhail stared bitterly at the doorway. Yuri shook his head, leaving the room in heavy, suffocating silence.