The Price of Loyalty

Chapter One

Adrik

The office reeked of cigar smoke and old leather—heavy, stale, the scent of a man who ruled through fear and didn’t bother hiding it.

Viktor Marinov sat behind his walnut desk like a man carved out of ice, everything in the room positioned to remind others who was in control.

The old Marinov pistol on the corner of his desk was almost a joke.

Viktor didn’t need a gun to make people bleed.

Adrik stood across the desk from his father, collar and tie loose. He was tired of pretending Viktor’s world fit him, tired of acting like he wasn’t suffocating inside this house. He hadn’t been summoned often, but when he was, it was never for anything that didn’t leave a mark.

On the desk lay a photograph. Sergei. The man who had taught Adrik Russian, philosophy, poetry—things, except learning Russian, Viktor had always mocked as weakness.

Sergei had been more than a tutor and personal security guard; he’d been the one who made him believe life could be more than power and fear.

Viktor tapped the photo. “Sergei sold us out. FBI,” he said, voice irritated. “He’s done. Tonight.”

The words didn’t just land—they detonated.

Losing him would be like a physical blow, as if someone had reached into Adrik’s chest and extinguished the last flicker of hope.

“Are you out of your mind? He’s been with us for fourteen years.

You sponsored him from Russia, and he was my personal tutor and security guard. ”

“He betrayed the Marinovs!”

“No, he didn’t! Your intel is fucked up!”

“I have multiple sources.” He sipped his vodka.

“He taught me everything I needed to know and kept me safe.”

Viktor’s cold eyes lifted. “He taught you softness. He made you question me. That’s betrayal enough.” Viktor spat the words out like a curse.

“You didn’t seem to mind him teaching me Russian, so I can negotiate with your business partners.”

“Stop questioning me.”

“He’s my best friend. My only friend. Is it a fucking crime to have one friend?”

“It’s a fucking crime when you disobey my orders. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Is this about what he’s taught me, or some cooked-up intel about Sergei going to the FBI?”

“Don’t question me!” he repeated.

Adrik opened his mouth to speak, and Viktor slammed his palm onto the desk. The sound cracked like a gunshot. Adrik flinched before he could stop himself, and Viktor’s smile said he’d seen it.

“You can’t touch him,” Adrik said, voice low, then repeated his words louder. “You can’t touch the man who’s like a brother to me.”

“I can,” Viktor stated, “and you’re going to watch. You will learn what happens when loyalty falters.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Don’t tell me no.” Viktor stood up and crossed his arms.

A cold tremor went through Adrik. The thought made his stomach twist so hard he nearly doubled over. He had witnessed such scenes before under his father’s guidance.

“I’m telling you ‘no’ right now,” Adrik shouted. “You’ll have to do it without me. I won’t watch you slaughter my best friend.”

Viktor moved away from his desk, never a good thing.

“If you say no to my order, you’re dead to me!”

“Kill whatever version of me you think you own.”

Viktor didn’t waste any time. One second he was closing in, and the next, Adrik was slammed against the wall, his father’s hand a merciless clamp around his throat.

The squeeze came fast and hard, cutting off Adrik’s air like a steel vise.

Panic shot through him. He clawed at Viktor’s wrist, but it was like trying to budge a rock.

The edges of Adrik’s vision went spotty and black—a genuinely terrifying feeling.

“Show up at Sergei’s apartment,” Viktor growled, his hot breath in Adrik’s face.

Then, just as suddenly, he yanked his hand away from Adrik’s neck, only to grab his collar and pull him closer.

Before Adrik could even gasp properly, Viktor shoved him against the wall again.

Viktor was savoring this, delivering his twisted lesson blow by painful blow.

Adrik tried to push words out, his voice raw and desperate. “No! You’ll do it without me. I won’t be there to see you murder Sergei!” That was it—a blatant refusal. He wasn’t backing down.

Viktor’s eyes narrowed, but he finally let go of Adrik’s collar, shoving him harder against the wall one last time. Adrik staggered, hacking and coughing, his throat on fire.

“Betrayal will reap fatal consequences.” Viktor scowled in disgust, then shoved a folded note into Adrik’s pocket.

Adrik pulled the note out, scanning the scrawled time and location.

The paper felt flimsy and wrong. He crumpled it up instantly and tossed it onto the floor.

“Asking me to watch you torture Sergei is wrong, and it will not happen. You knew that before you even ordered me to take part.” The crumpled paper lay there, a symbol of his refusal.

“Why the hell is Sergei so important to you? Your brother thinks you’re lovers.”

“He’s a damn liar, and you know that! Is Burian your source who fed you false FBI evidence?” Adrik shot back.

Viktor shouted over Adrik’s question. “Does Sergei mean more to you than I do?”

“No! You’re my father or supposed to be.”

“He betrayed the Marinovs. Your name is Adrik Marinov!”

“I know my name,” he paused. “This nonsense about Sergei is just another ploy of Burian to discredit and harm me.”

“So, Sergei is more important to you than I am?”

Adrik shook his head, shouting back, “Don’t turn my friendship with Sergei into something it’s not!

” Adrik’s anger and resentment towards his brother, Burian, had been simmering for years; he had every reason to hate him.

Burian, had spent years digging for evidence of a romance between Adrik and Sergei.

When he couldn’t find anything, he just started accusing Adrik of being gay.

Viktor’s hand cracked across Adrik’s face, the sting sharp and hot, blooming across his cheek. His head snapped to the side, jaw aching, skin burning like it had been branded.

“Get out!” Viktor barked, already turning his back. He dropped into the chair behind his desk, lit a cigar, and blew smoke into the air, eyes locked on Adrik with a glare that cut deeper than the slap.

Adrik froze against the wall, muscles locked tight.

The pain throbbed, but worse was the humiliation—the way Viktor dismissed him like he was nothing.

His chest felt hollow; his breath caught somewhere between rage and disbelief.

For a moment, he couldn’t move, couldn’t think, just stood there stunned, cheek still pulsing with the reminder of Viktor’s hand.

“If you don’t show up tonight, you’re dead to me.”

Those words cut deeper than the choke and the slap combined.

Adrik’s legs were shaking, and his chest was heaving, trying to catch up on lost air.

Sergei’s face flashed in his mind—calm, patient, the man who had taught him how to actually think, not just read books.

And now Viktor wanted him to toss that aside and betray Sergei.

Adrik stared at the crumpled note on the floor, then kicked it across the room. Whatever came next, one thing was absolutely certain: he wasn’t going to Sergei’s apartment. He wasn’t ringing that bell.

“Get the fuck out of my office now!” Viktor roared as he stood again.

Adrik backed out of his father’s office, keeping his eyes locked on the gun on his desk. He didn’t trust his father not to reach for it just to make a point. He didn’t trust Viktor with anything anymore, especially not with his life.

Adrik rounded the corner in the hall, breathing hard, and slammed straight into Burian. His older brother’s face immediately tightened into a familiar, sour expression.

“What did he want?” Burian asked, his eyes sharp and probing.

“To take out Sergei and make me watch,” Adrik spat out.

“And?”

“And I’m not going. He’s been my tutor and security guard since I was ten.”

The color instantly drained from Burian’s face. “He’s summoned me too. I’ll watch because you can’t.”

Adrik laughed—a sharp, almost hysterical sound. “Of course you will. You’ve always wanted to be his perfect little soldier.”

“And you fucking never wanted that, but he chose you over me.” Burian spewed his hate and anger at Adrik.

“Do you honestly think you could stomach watching the boss and his goons butcher Sergei piece by piece?”

“I can and I will replace you. I’m the oldest; I should have been his right hand, not you.”

“You can never replace me,” Adrik snarled, a low, dangerous sound. “Get away while you can.”

Burian’s eyes narrowed as he landed the cheap, cruel shot he’d been saving. “Are you in love with Sergei?”

The question hit Adrik right where Burian intended. Not because it was true, but because Burian wanted to reduce everything Sergei represented—friendship, truth, a different life—to something dirty and mockable. That was Viktor’s influence, that signature, cruel twisting of humanity into a weapon.

“Go fuck yourself,” Adrik snapped.

Underneath the sudden flare of hate for Burian, something ugly twisted inside him. Adrik kept walking, his knuckles white. If he stayed one second longer, he knew he’d beat the shit out of Burian. Burian could never, on any level, take his place.

Adrik reached the front door. His lungs felt tight, and his hands were shaking, not from fear, but from the overwhelming, terrifying certainty that once he stepped outside, everything would be irrevocably changed.

Then he heard her voice.

“Adrik, don’t go!”

He froze. He turned slowly, the dread coiling in his gut, already knowing what he would see. His mother stood in the doorway of her office, pale and trembling, half-hidden in shadow. She looked frail, almost ghostly, as though the house was actively sucking the life out of her.

“You knew what he wanted,” Adrik shouted, the accusation loud in the massive hall.

She lowered her head, her long blonde hair brushing her cheeks to hide her face. “I can’t stop him.”

“You didn’t even try, did you?” The words were laced with bitter disappointment that tasted like ash.

“I didn’t know what to say.” Tears welled up in her blue eyes. That was her signature move, the one that used to make him rush to coddle and comfort her. Not this time, Mom.

A bitter, hollow ache spread through him. She had always been passive, barely surviving in Viktor’s world. But deep down, he had foolishly hoped she would fight for him. Even once. Even now.

“Sergei is the only person who ever cared about who I could be,” Adrik stated, his voice suddenly quiet, heavy with finality. “He gave me a world that wasn’t built on fear and violence.”

“I know,” she whispered, tears tracking paths down her face. “Can’t you… just give Viktor this one thing? To keep the peace?”

“No,” Adrik said, the refusal absolute. “I won’t kneel for him. And I won’t forgive you for asking me to.”

Her face crumpled, yet Adrik’s heart remained as cold as the stone around her.

“You chose him.” He pointed at her. “You always choose him. I expect nothing more from you,” Adrik said, his eyes narrowing as he spoke.

“I’m done. Done with all the fucking damaged Marinovs.

” He could have said more, but he wouldn’t disrespect his mother.

His father had done enough of that when he bought her.

She was a mail-order bride. Straight from Russia.

“Your father needs you. How can you leave?” she asked, then shouted behind him. “He depends on you.”

Adrik heard her, but he didn’t respond. He shoved the massive door open, stepped out into the night air, and lit a cigarette. He didn’t look back, because if he had, he knew he would have hesitated. And hesitation in Viktor’s world was just a slower way of dying.