Chapter 26
12 years ago
I hear the shattering of ceramic followed by Aleksandrs startled cry. My protective instincts kick in and I sprint to the kitchen, assessing the situation quickly.
Aleksandr stands by the counter, face streaked with tears, shards of our fathers favorite mug scattered at his feet. I gently pull him aside, away from the broken pottery.
Shhh, dont cry, I soothe him, brushing his tears away. It was an accident.
Aleksandrs lower lip trembles. But it was Dads special mug. His voice hitches on a sob.
I squeeze his shoulder reassuringly as I start carefully gathering the larger pieces. Dont worry, Ill take care of this.
Just then, heavy footsteps approach and Fathers voice bellows from the hallway, What was that?
My heart jumps into my throat but I keep my tone even. My fault, Sir, I knocked your mug over by accident.
Father fills the doorway, his face clouding with anger as he surveys the damage. When his glare settles on me, I brace myself.
The slap seems to come out of nowhere, snapping my head to the side. Pain explodes across my cheek as Aleksandr dissolves into frightened sobs.
Father points a rigid finger toward the study. Go. Now. His tone brokers no argument.
I bow my head submissively, ignoring the sting in my cheek. Yes Sir.
As I leave, I meet Aleksandrs terrified gaze and try to give him a reassuring look. I can endure this for his sake.
In the study, I kneel on the hardwood floor with my hands behind my back, just as Father taught us. The hours crawl by in silence. Thirst and hunger set in as bruises blossom across my knees.
When the door finally creaks open, relief floods through me. But it’s only Ivan, his young face etched with concern.
“Dimitri,” he says urgently. “We have to get you help.”
I shake my head, remaining in position. I know the punishment isn’t over yet. Ivan doesn’t understand – I broke the rules. Now I have to face the consequences.
I kneel motionless on the hardwood floor, ignoring the burning pain in my knees and the gnawing hunger in my stomach. How long has it been now – one day? Two? Time loses meaning in this empty room.
My thoughts drift to Aleksandr as I wait. I hope he’s been staying out of Father’s way. At only six years old, he doesn’t understand. He still sees the man who reads him adventure stories at bedtime, not the merciless tyrant who rules our home through fear and violence. I protect Aleksandr from that side of Father as best I can. He deserves a childhood free of bruises and broken bones.
A wave of dizziness washes over me and I sway unsteadily. When did I last have water? Yesterday? No, it was the day before, when Ivan secretly brought me a few sips. My tongue feels like sandpaper in my dry mouth.
How much longer will Father leave me here? This is the worst it’s ever been. What if he never comes back? The thought terrifies me and I push it away quickly. He has to come eventually.
I struggle to stay upright as my vision blurs, my head pounding. Maybe… maybe if I just rest... for a minute...
My elbows buckle and I sprawl onto the floor, too weak to hold myself up any longer. The cool wood feels soothing against my hot cheek. My breathing slows as I surrender to the blackness creeping in.
Just before I lose consciousness, I hear the faint creak of the study door opening, followed by Ivans panicked voice shouting my name. His footsteps pound across the floor toward me.
I try to respond but my lips wont form words. Ivan grips my shoulders, rolling me onto my back. I pry my eyes open to look at him one last time before the darkness swallows me completely.
I stand before the heavy oak door, tracing the familiar grains in the wood with my eyes. My palms tingle with the ghostly sting of old lashings as I reach for the brass handle.
Stepping into the dim study, the scent of aged leather and musk envelops me. Nothing has changed. The shelves still groan under endless rows of antique books. The imposing mahogany desk sits precisely centered, its surface polished to a gleam.
I trail my fingers along the desks edge, memories flashing through my mind. The snap of the belt cracking across my shoulders. The icy burn of alcohol on open wounds. The sheer terror that seized my heart whenever Father summoned me in here.
I dont hate him for it. The beatings, the isolation, my first kill at fifteen - it all served a purpose. Father was forging me into a weapon, tempering me through pain until I was hardened enough to lead the Bratva one day. But maybe it is one reason why I do not find it impossible to leave my family and my legacy behind.
The lessons were brutal, but they worked. Im no longer that scrawny boy cowering in the corner. Now Im a man in control of his own destiny. Fathers methods shaped me, but he does not own me.
The study door opens and I turn to face him calmly. Gone is the anxiety that used to claw at my insides when Father entered a room. Now my pulse remains steady, my muscles loose but ready. Were on equal footing at last.
Fathers cold grey eyes assess me. A ghost of a smile twitches his lips.
Fathers scowl deepens, carving harsh lines into his weathered face. What are you doing in here, boy? Have you come to measure the drapes before youve earned the right to this office? His tone drips with contempt.
I fold my hands behind my back, meeting his icy glare steadily. No, Sir. I came to speak with you, not covet your position.
He snorts derisively but gestures for me to continue.
Taking a breath, I lay out the situation plainly. Im here to inform you that I intend to marry Sara Amato. She is pregnant with my child and I will be taking her familys name instead of her taking ours.
Fathers face purples with rage and he slams a fist on the desk. You what? How dare you make such a decision without my consent! You insolent brat, you know nothing of securing alliances through marriage. I wont allow you to sully our familys reputation like this!
Though my heart hammers in my chest, I keep my posture relaxed and my voice level. With all due respect, the matter is settled. I negotiated the terms of the arrangement directly with Don Amato. Sara will have my protection and I will have her.
The hell you will! Father roars, spittle flying from his mouth. I am still the head of this family. You obey my orders, not the other way around!”
Father’s accusations strike like the lash of a whip, his rage palpable in the cramped study. Yet I remain composed, letting his venom spill over me harmlessly.
“I am no longer a child for you to control,” I state evenly. “The decisions I make as a man are my own.”
Father scoffs. “A man? You are barely more than a boy. What do you know of running an empire, of strategy and sacrifice? I built our family’s power through decades of blood and toil. I will not let you squander it over some foolish infatuation.”
My jaw tightens but I keep my tone level. “This arrangement with the Amatos is a prudent move for the family’s interests.”
“Prudent?” Father spits. “Ceding your name, bowing to their demands – where is the pride in that? You shame your heritage.”
“I do what I must to secure my future.”
“Your future?” He slams a fist on the desk. “You selfish, arrogant child. This is about our future, not yours.”
I meet his livid glare unflinchingly. “My future is intertwined with the Amato’s already. I’ll do what is necessary, not what you wish.
Boris’ face reddens, apoplectic. Necessary? I made you what you are, built you up from nothing. You owe me everything!
I owe nothing to someone who has treated me like a puppet on strings. My voice rises fractionally. You dont own me anymore.
You ungrateful bastard! he roars. I should have drowned you at birth like the mongrel cur you are!
I clench my fists, nostrils flaring, but remain silent.
Fathers face contorts in rage, his hand shooting out to strike me. But Im ready. This time, I catch his wrist in an iron grip before the blow can land.
Fathers eyes widen in shock and fury. He tries to wrench his arm free but I hold firm.
Let go of me, boy, he growls. When I dont relent, he swings at me with his other fist.
I block the wild punch easily, countering with a sharp jab to his ribs that knocks the air from his lungs. Father staggers back with a choked grunt. Before he can recover, I sweep his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor.
In a flash, Im on top of him, pinning his arms to the ground. Father thrashes and bucks beneath me like a wild animal, but I use my superior size and strength to keep him restrained.
Get off me, you damned mongrel! he sputters, face purpling.
I stare down at him coldly. No, old man. Were done here.
With a final burst of effort, Father tries to heave me off. I slam his wrists harder against the floor, eliciting a pained yell.
Enough! My voice rings out sharply. Father stills, eyes wide with disbelief. I can see it slowly dawning on him that Ive bested him at last.
I lean down close, our noses almost touching. Listen well. I am taking Sara as my wife with or without your approval. Nothing you say or do will stop me. My tone brokers no argument.
I stare down at my father pinned beneath me, his face still twisted in impotent rage. My heart hammers in my chest as I realize Ive finally beaten him. After so many years of abuse, so many scars both physical and mental, Ive conquered the man who sought to control my destiny.
Breathing heavily, I lean in close and deliver my final words to him, my voice low but firm.
For over two decades you have dictated my every move, molding me into your obedient attack dog. You treated me like an object, not a son. But no more. From now on, I make my own choices. I walk my own path.
Father opens his mouth to retort but I cut him off sharply.
Be silent! For once you will listen to me. My fingers dig into his wrists in warning. He grimaces but remains quiet.
You tried to turn me into a cold, ruthless monster like yourself. And you succeeded. I did and still do terrible things at your bidding, and I have committed unspeakable acts of violence. I shake my head slowly,
I lean down further until our noses almost touch, ensuring he can see the iron resolve in my eyes.
I will never be your obedient attack dog again. From now on, I walk my own path, make my own choices. Right or wrong, success or failure, they will be mine alone.
Fathers eyes burn with impotent fury, but also a flicker of... fear? Good. Let him finally understand what it feels like to be afraid and powerless.
I stare down at the old man who made my childhood a living hell. The man who beat obedience and ruthlessness into me until it became second nature. The man who sought to control my destiny.
Part of me wants to keep hitting him, to unleash years of pent-up rage and pain. To make him suffer and cower as I once did.
But no. Ive already proven my point - Im no longer under his thumb.
So I straighten up, smoothing my shirt. Father remains sprawled on the floor, looking up at me with that unfamiliar glimmer of fear in his eyes. He knows his power over me is broken.
Ill be taking my leave now. But before I go... I pause, letting the silence hang heavy between us. Fathers eyes narrow, wary.
Good luck getting Aleksandr under your control.
Fathers face pales at the mention of my younger brother. He knows Aleksandr has always been resistant to his iron-fisted rule, only obeying out of necessity. Aleksandr is too headstrong and defiant to simply fall in line. But with me out of the picture, Aleksandr will feel emboldened to rebel.
I allow myself a small, satisfied smile. I look forward to seeing your hairs turn grey with frustration as you struggle to rein him in. The days of this family jumping to obey your every barked command are over.
I turn and stride toward the study door, savoring the feeling of victory thrumming through my veins. With my back turned, I dont see Father struggling to his feet. But I hear the barely perceptible shuffle of expensive leather on hardwood.
My shoulders tighten instinctively, bracing for retaliation. But the blow never comes. Slowly, I turn back.
Father stands slumped by the desk, one hand resting on it for support. His breathing is labored and he regards me with a mixture of impotent fury and grudging respect.
We lock eyes wordlessly across the room. An understanding passes between us. Ive bested him, but he will not forget this humiliation. One day, he will seek to regain control, through cunning if not strength. But that day is not today.
I give him one last piercing look, then walk out. The heavy oak door thuds shut behind me, sealing Father in the dark office that haunted my childhood.
As I stride down the hallway, exhilaration courses through me. It feels damn good to turn the tables and leave that old tyrant beaten and dethroned.