Chapter 53
July 14, 1994
I never thought I’d write in a journal, but it’s what Mama recommended. A place where I can conceal all my thoughts. Especially now, at a time when I’ll soon have a wife.
Her name is Diana Lukin. She’s the daughter of a business partner. At first, I didn’t understand why Papa would arrange a marriage with a person he’s already aligned with, and planned to argue the fact, but then I met her.
She’s lovely and perfect. Behaves well, which is something Papa said I should care about. A part of me does, since the Bratva needs someone who’ll respect our ways and raise my future heir to act how a leader should, but another side of me doesn’t care. I want someone imperfect who I can mold for my own desires. Someone who, like me, has to work for perfection. Someone who isn’t under her papa’s command.
Oh, well.
She has the darkest of black hair and an angelic face. I couldn’t stop looking at her all night. Maybe the upcoming marriage won’t be terrible.
December 24, 1994
Christmas used to be my favourite time of year.
Not anymore.
Mama passed away this morning. Papa claims she’s been sick for years and has been hiding it from Ivan and me, but I don’t believe that. The dark marks on her neck indicated otherwise, but whatever happened between them, Ivan and I have made a pact to ignore it for our own safety. She’s his, therefore any punishment was his to deliver. It’s how this organization works. It’s how it’ll go between Diana and me, too.
Still…she’s Mama. I don’t know what to think. What to feel.
December 25, 1994
I almost burned this journal today. It was a gift from her , so what’s the point in continuing to write in it? To jot down my thoughts, my feelings…it’s stupid.
I opened this book to record all my memories of her so I never forget the good ones from childhood. When she baked with Ivan and me, and we went on long walks around the property, and every single one of her hugs.
But now I won’t. If Papa finds this, he’d beat me. Maybe that’s why he killed Mama. She’s soft and pliable and her behaviours got away from her. He had no choice but to keep her in line, and when she still didn’t obey, he ended her life.
At least, that’s my theory.
He’s playing the distraught widow, but I see the gleam behind his eyes. It’s the same one he reflects onto me.
Maybe I should stop resisting. Maybe it’ll make my life easier. My own marriage simpler.
Maybe I should turn it all off.
March 2, 1995
Wedding day. Finally. Let’s get this over with.
March 3, 1995
Her mother cried when Diana signed the papers.
The night progressed quicker when I stuck by Ivan’s side and drank myself stupid. The wedding night came and passed. She was a virgin, as promised. So a deal struck is a deal made.
By next week, Papa is stepping down. Said the Bratva is in worthy hands.
I feel numb about it all. If Diana saw a shift between now and our first meeting, she didn’t say anything. It’s good she didn’t. Last thing I need is someone to state what I’m aware of.
Papa was right. Easier to not love. Love leads to disappointment, like how I felt losing Mama.
If I lose Diana, I’ll be able to move on.
August 16, 1996
Diana is pregnant.
She’s also more than just beautiful.
She’s entertaining. Fun. As much as I hate to say it, I quite enjoy her company.
More facts for Papa to be unaware of. He can’t know that I’m falling for her.
Idiotic. Stupid. But maybe, the truth…
October 28, 1996
Papa died today.
April 20, 1997
My daughter’s name is Vanessa.
She’s a spitting image of her mother, and for that reason, I can’t hate her.
But I also do. She’s not a boy. She can’t be my heir. Ivan is concerned but I think he’s secretly pleased because his son, Dimitri, was born last year. We both know what the organization will insist on if I never produce a boy.
I must for the Bratva’s future. For my own pride. For the memory of Papa.
January 20, 1998
Vanessa is nine months old today. She might not be a boy, but she makes me so happy to be her father. I’m utterly in love with her. Never thought such a tiny creature could hold so much power over me. Her features are becoming more distinct, and she’s a mini-Diana, which I’m thrilled about.
I love my wife. There, I wrote it down. Papa’s long-gone, so he’ll never find this, which means being able to admit to you what I think I’ve only just began admitting to myself.
I’m not unhappy she was the price of the merger. She’s perfect and kind and the best mother to my daughter.
December 20, 1998
The holidays continue to be a darkness.
I’ve lost Diana too.
A local gang tried to skip out on paying for drugs they ordered, so I had them wiped out instead. They paid for their addiction in blood.
But we missed two…and they found Diana when she was shopping.
The only reason my Vanessa survived the shooting is because their bodyguard. I might not have an heir, but I do have a piece of Diana and I think that’s enough. I think I can contend with that fact.
Ivan says I should remarry. Replace Diana with someone worthy, who’ll give me what I need, but I’m not sure I can.
Not sure I’d want to.
November 23, 2002
Vanessa is five now.
Just thought I should record that.
She looks so much like her mother. Sometimes, I hate her for it. It’s easier to leave her with the nanny than spend any time with her because it only makes me sad and regret so much, like falling in love with my wife. Papa was right all along, but I stupidly didn’t learn from Mama’s loss, and now, I’m reliving it all over.
While Vanessa’s still a child, I’m already planning possible marriage matches. She might not be a boy, but the Bratva can still go to her instead of Dimitri—and thus, Ivan—through a worthy connection. It’ll get handed to her husband, and I’d much prefer that over Ivan’s grubby hands.
Besides, the sooner she’s wed off, the sooner I don’t have to look at her.
May 30, 2005
The war with the Italians has gotten worse.
Sometimes, I read old entries of this journal, some written when I was young and wanted to speak about my feelings. When I entertained Mama’s ideas—God rest her soul. Each time, I laugh at the past version of myself because I don’t remember him at all. That’s not who I am. Not who I’ve become.
Diana would be ashamed. Mama would disown me. Not really, because she had this idea of unconditional love, but she’d certainly want to.
Maybe that’s why I’ve adopted the behaviours Papa always wanted me to have. He despised Mama’s kindness. Yet another reason he likely killed her.
I don’t know why I did it. Why I thought it was smart. But I kidnapped Gabriella Mancini, wife of the Mancini Family of the Cosa Nostra. This is weeks after they attacked a place I held dearly. This is the ultimate hit back.
More so, because Mancini is unable to retaliate in the same way. It’s useful not having a wife for them to kidnap. I’m happy I never remarried because women are commodities in business and war.
I tortured her in ways I won’t write about because this journal doesn’t feel completely safe and private anymore. Someone will find it one day and the actions I took against Gabriella are mine and mine alone. I hurt her and her marriage in a way she’ll never heal from.
Old me would have sympathy.
New me doesn’t give a fuck.
It’s war. She was the victim, but it’s Mancini who’ll pay the price.
Next time, he won’t fuck with me.
February 15, 2006
I received a letter from Italy today.
Seems, I have another daughter. A bastard born from what I did to Gabriella.
I don’t understand why they told me. Are they looking for retribution or me to claim ownership over the girl? I doubt it’s that one; that Mancini would want to end this feud by becoming a family.
Ivan is concerned about the future, but I say, we let the issue lie. I’ll never contact the Mancinis again, and Vanessa will never learn the truth because it’s better this way. She’s nine now, and telling her she has a younger half-sister would thrill her. No point in introducing heartbreak yet. She’ll live it eventually.
June 27, 2010
It’s been four years since my other daughter’s birth and Italy refuses to end attacking us. Therefore, I refuse to stop retaliating.
It’s gone on long enough, and Mancini needs to realize I’m not someone to play with anymore. But as much as I hate to admit this, we’re too evenly matched. Losses have been equal on both sides; same number of businesses destroyed, deals taken over, merchandise robbed, and soldiers’ deaths.
Which means I need an advantage.
June 28, 2010
I got it.
July 2, 2010
The Cosa Nostra might be an allegiance of Five Families, but they’re not loyal to one another at all. With a few attempts at contacting them, the Vitales has finally returned my call and is willing to strike a deal.
I offered my most valuable possession: Vanessa. In exchange for control of their army for a predetermined time, one of their sons will wed Vanessa once she’s eighteen.
Vitale’s reply was positive, willing, until he explained they don’t wed outside their culture. Something about keeping their Italian bloodlines strong. As pissed off as I was at first, I could respect it. Understand it. There’s value in purity.
It was all too easy because I now have a use for my other daughter. Being half-Italian, half-Russian descent, they agreed and unbeknownst to everyone in the Mancini Family, their youngest is now signed away in a marriage deal to take place in eighteen years from now to Alessandro Vitale’s son, Alessio.
Since I now have a stake in the girl, I’ve sent men to spy on her in Ostia, a small village a short drive away from Rome, where she and Gabriella moved to shortly after the girl’s birth.
Her name is Serafina.
The only person in the Bratva to be aware of her outside this journal is Ivan. He’s weirdly excited about the prospect of having a direct connection to the Cosa Nostra. One that, no matter how much the Mancinis fight, is inevitable due to the blood that runs in that girl’s veins.
July 6, 2010
With the Vitales’ assistance, it was all too easy to slip into Rome and take out one of Mancini’s bars, the very one my spies told me he’d be doing business in that night.
He’s finished, gone, and no longer my concern.
I kept Zeno Mancini alive, though I’m not sure why. Definitely don’t know why I lied about not harming children. You and my black soul both know that’s a lie.
Hate to say, but the fierce expression on his face as he vowed to wipe out my entire family—laughable—was intriguing, in the sense it reminded me of myself after Mama’s death.
May 27, 2012
I was made an offer today. One regarding Vanessa, but not for marriage.
Ivan believes I should accept since a connection to Boris Agapov, the Minister of Finance would be useful, and I agree. At first, some instinct wanted me to turn him down. To keep Diana’s look-alike safe and protected, but the fact is, Vanessa needs to play her part. She’s a commodity and until my meeting with Boris today, I never considered how else she could be useful.
He's an insider to the government, and the payment isn’t a one-time thing. A revolving payout every year in exchange for Vanessa for a night—and her virginity. The benefits greatly outweigh the way she’ll despise me.
More than she already does.
June 1, 2012
I write this after I had her tied to a bed and left the room. Boris will undoubtedly descend shortly.
I write this with liquor in my hand. Vanessa needs to learn her place because she’s too vicious, too spirited. She’s demanding to be the next Pakhan and not wed. She’s a stupid girl, and without a mother figure in her life, I must be the one to break it to her—by breaking her.
Perhaps I should have remarried like Ivan recommended many years ago. Only so Vanessa had another woman who could’ve taught her who she should be rather than the brat I have.
Tomorrow, she’ll look at me like I’m a monster. Lucky for her, she’ll be right.
No Pakhan’s soul is ever intact. Mine started to crumble the night I lost Mama.
It completely disappeared with Diana’s death.
July 13, 2014
Darkness runs in the Volkov bloodline. I knew that already because Papa was the definition of cruel, and I’ve been encased in so much darkness, I don’t even recognize myself anymore. Years and years of being a leader has weighed me down.
My brother admitted something last night. Something that really says he’s adapted to Papa’s training as well as I did. Maybe even better. Depends on your definition of “better” and “cruelty.”
What’s crueller?
Selling your fifteen-year-old daughter’s virginity for political and financial gain, or paying a group of men to kidnap your son and his girlfriend and rape her repeatedly, all to make a point to him about his mandatory enlistment into the Bratva?
Dimitri doesn’t know the whole thing was a set-up, but I imagine it’s only a matter of time until he does. That boy is a natural killer. He’s proficient at the training, which is why he runs from it.
This time, it’ll be my brother who’s doing the running.
August 16, 2015
The young Mancini boy took control of his Family.
Let’s see how this goes. If I were him, I’d seek revenge.
April 4, 2020
Been some time.
For a while, I lost this journal. Or maybe I hid it from myself.
It’s been five years and the attacks haven’t stopped. The Mancini Family’s grown stronger under Zeno’s leadership and, while admitting this is unfaithful to the history of my organization, he’s stronger than us.
Thanks to spies stationed in Italy, I know when he’s coming for me, so I disappear at the right time. Vanessa’s away at school and Ivan manages the businesses in my absence, so it allows me to go into hiding for a couple of months, before re-emerging for a short while, playing Pakhan and Papa, before doing it all over.
The other Families are not helping this time. I’ve played my cards with Serafina, and none of them want Vanessa as a wife.
Fuck.
I need someone outside the Cosa Nostra and the Bratva. The next strongest organization is the New York Famiglia. Vanessa can marry the boss’s son, Erico Rossi.
May 10, 2020
There’s a complication with Erico Rossi. He’s already married to a nobody from Canada. It’s an easy fix if he turns down my offer and refuses to switch wives; his will disappear. The next time I resort to jotting anything down in this journal, Vanessa should be a Famiglia wife and the young Mancini will be destroyed.