Prologue Maksim #2
Just like with Dima, I’d always been closer to Mila than Annika. Whenever I’d remove myself from situations with heavy conversations, she would come sit in the quiet with me. I’d often go outside so we could stare up at the night sky since Mila loved astronomy just like Irina did.
As I nodded my thanks, Kira stomped her tiny foot and pouted at the screen. “I wanted to come to your party!” she whined.
“Kira,” Irina admonished.
I chuckled. “I’m sorry, p-pchelka.” Since she was little, Irina had called Kira her little bee, and it had bled over to me and Aleks. It matched her personality so well since she could be sweet but have a sting with her temper.
At her continued pouting, I said, “T-This p-party is just for grownups.”
“Not fair, Maksy.”
“I know.”
“Will you take me skating tomorrow to make it up to me?”
At Irina’s horrified shriek, I laughed. “Yes, p-pchelka.”
While she grinned triumphantly, Irina shook her head. “It’s not polite to guilt someone into taking you somewhere.”
“But Mamoushka,” Kira protested.
“Tell Maksim you’re sorry.”
“I’m sorry.”
With a whisper, I said, “We’ll still go skating.”
Kira giggled while Irina shook her head at me. “You’re a bad influence, Maksim”
“I’m sorry.”
Irina laughed. “No you’re not.”
A knock came at the door. “We have to go,” Dima said.
My siblings waved while Irina blew me a kiss. “B-Bye, guys.”
When the call ended, I called, “Yes?”
My mother poked her head in. “I just came to check if you were ready. It’s time to go downstairs.”
Her nose curled with disgust at the sight of Dima standing behind me. “What is he doing here?”
“He’s my second t-tonight.”
“Aleksander should be your second,” she hissed.
“D-Dima’s t-two years older than Aleks.”
Mother’s blue eyes bulged with rage. “He’s a bastard!”
Dima glanced warily between Mother and me. “Would you like me to get him?”
“No!” I snapped before Mother could answer. When she started to open her mouth, I shook my head. “D-Dima is my second.”
Drawing her shoulders back, Mother huffed out a breath. “I refuse to argue with you tonight, Maksim.” After smoothing a hand over her updo, she said, “Be downstairs in five minutes.”
While I nodded, Dima replied, “Yes, ma’am.”
Once the door closed behind my mother, Dima groaned. “Bylat.”
At my snort, Dima slowly shook his head back and forth. “Seriously, your mother is scary as hell.”
“D-Da,” I agreed with a grin.
“Let’s get the hell out of here before she comes back and banishes me to the prisons.”
I clapped him on the back. “I’d rescue you.”
Dima swept his hands to his broad chest. “My hero.”
“Fuck you.”
He raced ahead of me out the door. Since I didn’t want to be bested by him, I sprinted to catch up to him. With a laugh, I blew past him. “Mudak!” he called before pushing himself to catch up.
By the time we got to the terrace door leading to the courtyard, our breath came in wheezing pants. Bending over at the knees, I tried regulating my breathing. Of course, it didn’t help thinking about what was just beyond that door.
At what must’ve been the anxiety seeping into my expression, Dima jerked his thumb. “Get out there and knock them dead, Maks.”
“I wish.”
“You’ve got this.”
After huffing out a breath of both frustration and fear, I grunted, “Let’s go.”
With a grin, Dima threw open the door. The moment I stepped outside, the swarming buzz of conversation assaulted me over the live music. My gaze bounced wildly around as Dima practically led me across the marble terrace to the stairs.
Once we made our way down the stairs, all eyes fell on us. Most gave me appreciative looks and warm smiles. Some of those expressions changed at the sight of Dima, but they knew better than to voice their disapproval of seeing one of Father’s bastards.
As soon as I came in contact with a waiter with champagne, I snatched a crystal flute off his tray. After downing the bubbly in one long gulp, Dima groaned. “Pace yourself, man,” he urged.
When I shot him a look, he said, “The last thing you want is to be blitzed out of your mind when Father makes the announcement.”
Since I knew he was right, I merely grunted and resisted grabbing another glass of champagne. Of course, my resolve was short-lived when Mother joined us. “You need to mingle, Maksim.”
It was evident Mother didn’t want Dima to join us. With a tight smile, he said, “I’ll be here when you get back.”
“T-Thanks.”
Taking me by the elbow, Mother then ushered me over to a group of high-ranking Bratva members. “There he is. The man of the hour,” one man quipped.
As I forced a smile to my lips, my brain scrambled to try to form words correctly. With the synapses firing wildly, I replied, “Thank you.”
A rush ran from the top of my head down to my feet that I’d pulled it off. Sure, it was only two words, but the fact that I hadn’t fucked it up tonight meant everything.
As Mother ran her mouth, I bobbed my head and smiled when called upon. We moved from group to group. At the third introduction, I faltered and stammered out a “T-Thank you.”
While I masked the panic and disappointment surging within me from my face, I inwardly tried not to fall apart.
After suffering through what felt like an eternity of small talk, dinner was served.
Thankfully, I’d been seated at a table with Dima, Aleksandr, and Annika along with some of our aunts and uncles.
Although my stomach rolled with nerves, I still managed to sample a little from each of the five courses. Dima cut me off before I could ask for another glass of vodka.
“I only had t-two.”
“That’s one too many.”
I grunted. “Like I’m a fucking lightweight.”
He opened his mouth to argue with me when Father’s voice boomed out from a microphone. He and Mother stood on the terrace that rose above the courtyard.
“Good evening, everyone. Faina and I cannot express our gratitude for you coming out tonight.”
As applause rang out, Father leaned over to bestow a kiss on Mother’s cheek. She wore her brightest and fakest smile as she waved back at the crowd below her.
“Now I would like to ask my son, Maksim to join us.”
With whistles and clapping going off all around me, I made my way up the stairs to join my parents.
When I reached them, Mother patted my cheek adoringly while Father clapped my back.
To anyone but myself and those who knew us best, we appeared to be a loving family.
Of course, it was all a well-constructed facade.
“Smile, Maksim,” Mother hissed under her breath.
I then turned to face the onlookers below me and forced a smile to my face.
“As most of you know, tonight I announce my heir and the future leader of the Korolov Bratva.”
Turning to me, Father beamed. “I am extremely proud of my firstborn. He has everything a leader should have: immense strength and physical prowess along with cunning and intelligence.” With a cocky smile, Father added, “It doesn’t hurt that he looks just like his Papka, so he’s one hell of a handsome motherfucker. ”
Laughter rang through the crowd. Since my father wasn’t one for compliments, I preened like a fucking peacock under his words.
In private, he’d never said anything remotely positive about me or any of my siblings.
Well, except maybe Annika. Aleks and I often gave her a hard time for being Papa’s Princess.
Father’s jovial expression suddenly grew serious. After squeezing my shoulder, he said, “And as much as he is deserving of me handing over the leadership of this family, I cannot.”
The world around me shuddered to a stop.
As the buzzing of shocked conversation filled my ears, tiny cracks began to chisel away at the smile frozen on my face.
Furiously, I blinked my eyes, hoping I’d perhaps misheard him.
When I turned my head to stare questioningly at him, he merely shook his head.
“Communication is at the forefront of being a successful Pahkan. Being able to command your men is vital, and I’m afraid Maksim’s deficit will never allow him to adequately command the Korolov men.
Over the years, we’ve sought out many therapies to rid him of this defect, but sadly, none of them could help him. ”
LIAR I inwardly screamed. Phantom pain rang in my cheeks at the thought of all the times years ago he had tried slapping the stutter from me. Only my mother had tried to get me help.
When my gaze swiveled to hers, surprise flooded me at the fury raging like a wildfire behind her eyes. There was no way in hell she’d had any idea this was coming, and she was fucking livid at his choice.
“Maksim still has a bright future in our organization. Due to his strength and intelligence, he will become our new obshchak upon completion of university.”
I’d been reduced from heir to bookkeeper in one breath. While it was an important and respected position in Bratva, it was not the number one spot, so it was an utterly humiliating position to be given as the firstborn son of a Pahkan.
There was a small smattering of applause. I didn’t dare look out into the crowd to see the expressions on their faces.
“And now I won’t hold you in suspense any longer about who the next Korolov Pahkan will be. I wasn’t just blessed with one strong, intelligent son.”
Slowly, my attention turned from Father to seek out the table I’d abandoned.
When I met Aleks’s gaze, absolute panic reflected back at me in his eyes.
It was completely jarring considering his usual jokester self.
I couldn’t imagine the panic going through his mind at that moment.
As the second legitimate son, he’d been raised completely differently than I had, especially with Dima between us.
And now the burden of being the leader was going to fall to him all because I had a fucking stutter.
“Please raise a glass to my son,” Father said.
My attention spun back to him as he held up his champagne flute to the crowd below. “To Dima.”
At my mother’s hiss, my gaze spun from Father to Dima. If Aleks had looked horrified, Dima’s expression was pure agony. As Father waved him up, Dima remained frozen in his chair.
“Come on, Dima,” Father commanded forcefully.
Dima slowly rose to his feet, a myriad of emotions playing on his face. As he started from the table, he appeared to be in a stupor as his steps faltered from time to time. After jogging up the stairs, he hurried to join Father.
When he started past me, I tucked my head to my chest and stared at the floor. As an aching betrayal sliced through me, the last thing I could do was look into his eyes. At that moment, I completely dissociated. A low whine filled my ears as I tuned out whatever Father was saying about Dima.
The moment I realized Father’s speech was over, I whirled around and started streaking across the terrace. Ignoring both Dima and my mother calling my name, I pounded up the stairs.
At the sight of me striding the corridor, the soldier guarding the door stepped out of the way. As I stalked into the house, Dima’s voice rang out behind me. “Maksim, wait!”
My eyes shuttered in agony. I couldn’t talk to him right now. The betrayal was too fucking fresh. Ignoring him, I pressed on, stalking down the antique rugs lining the hallway’s mahogany floors. I’d just reached my bedroom door when Dima rushed in front of me, blocking my escape.
Agony etched across his face. “You gotta fucking believe me, Maks. I had no fucking idea Father was going to do that!”
With my body shaking with hurt and rage, I couldn’t respond. I wouldn’t because I knew I couldn’t do it without stuttering. It wouldn’t be just a few of my words that I would fuck up. When I was upset, there were so many others.
I remained staring into Dima’s blue eyes. Within them, truth radiated back at me. Finally, I gave a sharp jerk of my head in acknowledgement.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one freaking out. Dima’s entire body shook. “My mother will freak out when she finds out. She’s never wanted me to have a part in Father’s world.”
From my time with Irina, I knew that to be true. Even though she’d grown up in Bratva and loved a Bratva leader, she wanted better than the underworld for Dima and Lev. “I…know.”
Dima shook his head forlornly. “I don’t deserve this, Maks, and I sure as hell don’t fucking want it! You’re truly the leader between us.” Dima’s forehead fell against mine. “I only want to be your second, brat.”
Pinching my eyes shut, I concentrated fiercely on my words. If there was ever a time for me to not be weak and stutter, it was now. My father’s voice echoed through my brain.
You are weak.
You are defective.
You aren’t worthy of the Korolov Bratva.
You are less to me than your bastard brother.
“Leave…me,” I gritted out.
Anguish filled me as the words fumbled from my lips. Pinching my eyes shut, my head dropped in defeat. “P-Please,” I whispered.
An agonized cry escaped Dima’s lips. “I love you, brat. I can’t bear to lose you.”
Even though it wasn’t his fault, I wanted to hate Dima. I deserved to hate him and his perfection that had stolen my birthright.
But I couldn’t.
Popping my eyes open, I stared into his. With my jaw clenching from my effort, I smacked my chest. “I’m…your…second.”
Tears shimmered in Dima’s eyes. “You promise?”
“Da,” I choked out.
After grinding the tears from his eyes with his fists, Dima nodded. “Okay.”
He then pulled away from me. As he started down the hallway, I escaped into my room. After staggering over to the multicolored liquor bottles on my dresser, I grabbed the most expensive bottle of vodka.
I unscrewed the top and started to bring the bottle to my lips when I caught my reflection in the mirror. My father’s voice rang all around me.
Weak
Defective
Unworthy
Useless
With a snarl, I jerked my arm back before flinging the bottle at the mirror. The force shattered both the bottle and the mirror. As shards of glass sprayed over the dresser, I sank to my knees.
And for the first time all evening, I allowed the tears to flow down my cheeks.