Chapter 8
The Gothic mansion looms as I stand at the front door, waiting to be admitted.
This is my first time visiting the estate that’s now technically mine.
Not that I’m in any hurry to make it my home.
I assured Mila that I had no plans to overstep her reign, but once my existence became public knowledge, it was no longer safe for the family to continue operating under her leadership.
Officially anyway. I still have a long way to go until I’m ready to lead a fucking Bratva.
“Welcome to your new crib, Cuddles,” Misha says as he ushers me inside. My initial impression was that he’d be my favorite henchman, but I’m starting to get the sense that I’ll be a disciple of his and not the other way around.
He closes the door behind us and waits, giving me a minute to take in the grandeur of the entryway. “Wow, this is spectacular.”
I’m not sure spectacular is a strong enough word to describe the magnificence of this home.
Everything is larger than life, with dark wood and colors balanced with delicate florals.
It’s not at all what I would have pictured for the home of a Bratva heir, but hey, I didn’t even know what the Bratva was until my Bratva sister and her Bratva henchmen kidnapped me and took me to their Bratva warehouse.
I grew up on The Godfather and genuinely thought the Mafia was just the Mafia.
Apparently not. Because when I told Mila that I couldn’t believe I was part of the Mafia, she slapped the shit out of me.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Misha kicks himself off the wall he was propped against and joins me in the center of the room, where I’ve admittedly been staring at the grand chandelier for way too long.
“Mila started renovating years ago. Her–er–your father hardly ever told her no and welcomed the idea of a woman’s touch in the place.
Most of our guys don’t believe Mila has a feminine bone in her body, but I see it from time to time.
Like the floral decor she added to what was previously a dark, foreboding estate. ”
“Speaking of my sister. Will she be joining us today?”
“Not today. Mila is in New York at the moment, but sends her regards. She’s very adamant about your training, though, and plans to be present for as many sessions as possible so she can personally monitor your improvement.”
“Great,” I mumble as Misha leads me deeper into the house.
“Today will be a light one. We’ll start with a tour, then move on to some physical assessments so I know what I’m working with.”
He takes me through the house, quickly giving me a rundown of each room.
It’s overwhelming. Each seems grander than the last, and my mind refuses to believe that this all officially belongs to me now.
Especially when he shows me my own wing.
He insists they’ll hire someone to come in and decorate to my tastes, but as it stands, it would be the nicest space I’ve ever had.
I lived a modest life growing up, and my frugal mindset has stayed firmly in place.
Even after making a prime NHL salary for five years, I haven’t had the urge to spend much money, except for whatever my grandma’s heart desires.
My apartment in New York was nice, but this is something else entirely.
I’m still in awe as Misha leads me out the back of the house to what could only be described as a colosseum.
It’s as large as any athletic facility I’ve trained in, and by my glance around, it houses professional-grade equipment.
Well, at least the things I’m familiar with, like weight machines.
There’s a whole other section of the space filled with what looks like straight-up torture devices, and I’m none the wiser about the top brands in that department.
The place is almost empty, sans half a dozen men almost as large and intimidating as Misha.
The black combat outfits definitely help with the whole “I’m a big bad Bratva soldier” look, that’s for sure.
I’m a little embarrassed that I showed up in my gray sweats and white T-shirt.
It’s what I would normally wear for a workout session, but I feel like a sheep in a den of wolves.
“Are you ready for the fun?”
Misha stops in the agility area, and I breathe a sigh of relief that he didn’t lead me to the black leather and chains.
In fact, I’m a little excited to show off.
It seems like everything I do or say around these guys is a joke to them, but if there is one thing I’m sure of, it’s my fitness.
A lifetime on the ice will whip you into shape.
“Mila and I have watched film from your past several seasons of games. We think we have a good sense of your strengths and weaknesses but need to put those theories to the test with an evaluation of our own. This will be the same semiannual assessment we require all of our men to perform…”
He looks around the room before calling out something in Russian. At his command, a man jogs in our direction. He’s one of the larger men in the room with a build close to mine. He stops a few feet from Misha and stands at attention with perfect posture and hands behind his back.
“Teddy, this is Rusev. Rusev, Teddy. He is one of our best men and one of the few included in Mila’s inner circle. Along with his devout loyalty, Rusev is one of our most impressive physical specimens.”
My confidence quickly falters as I watch Rusev perform a series of agility movements with speed and grace that an Olympian would covet. His form is impeccable from start to finish as he moves through the course without a single bead of sweat.
“Thank you, Rusev. You may go now.”
I’m still frozen in place, my mouth wide open in awe of his display of athleticism. I haven’t taken my eyes off the Bratva god as he jogs back to the sparring ring, where the other men are practicing, when Misha turns to me with a smirk on his face.
“Don’t be so intimidated. He’s one of our best men. There aren’t many in our group or the world who can top him.”
“Not many?” I scoff. “You mean to say he’s not even the best one in our group?”
Misha winks. “Who do you think trained him?”
“Jesus Christ.”
“And your sister can run circles around every one of us.” He chuckles. “Now, are you ready to get started, or would you like to stare at my men some more?”
I snap out of my fanboy daze and straighten up. “I’m ready, sir.”
“For starters, you never call me or anyone else ‘sir.’ You’re the boss of this entire operation, including me and your crush Rusev.” Misha chuckles. “I may be your trainer right now, but I’m still in service to you. Your number one lesson is to never let anyone doubt your authority.”
I nod. I’m the boss. Big bad Bratva boss. Got it.
“Now, do you recall all the steps, or were you fanboying too hard to remember them?”
“Ummm…”
“I’ll take that as a no.” He sighs. “Alright, I’ll take it from the top, then.”
Misha guides me through the course several times, each pass increasing in speed until I’m able to go through it alone.
If I was impressed with Rusev before, it’s tenfold now.
The line of obstacles proves to involve a level of fitness even I’m not used to.
And after what feels like days of training, but is in reality only a few hours, I’m completely spent.
I can tell the group of henchmen has somehow migrated closer to us by the volume of the collective laughter as I collapse on the floor.
Thankfully, Misha maintains his composure as he stands over me.
“You did well, Teddy. You should be proud of yourself. Trust me, it took all those assholes years to get to where they are. You did excellent for your first day. It will take some time, but now that I have a more accurate idea of what we are working with, I’ll be able to create a plan to help us accelerate your improvement. ”
I hum my agreement as he reaches an arm to help me up. To add insult to injury, I stumble on my first step, and Misha wraps his arm around me for support, like some idiot who can’t walk.
“Fuck, I’m not going to be able to move at practice tomorrow,” I mumble as he leads me hobbling out of the colosseum of death.
“This is the easy part. Trust me, when you’re learning the exact arteries to cut in order to kill a man, you’ll wish for the innocence of an obstacle course.”
Fuck. How am I supposed to kill someone?
We walk in silence until we reach the grand foyer. “Misha, I don’t know if I can be what you and Mila are asking of me. I…I don’t think I could take a life like that. I don’t want to let anyone down, but it’s just not me. I’m not some dark, brutish Bratva boss. I’m just Teddy.”
His eyes soften as he turns to me, placing a hand on my shoulder.
“This isn’t a world any of us would choose, Theodore, but it’s the life we were dealt.
I’m not going to lie and tell you that we aren’t all going to hell, but there is bad, and then there is pure evil.
Your father and sister are the former. They’ve done some ruthless things during their rule, but for every wrong they’ve done, they’ve done twice as many good deeds. ”
Misha pauses and looks around the room.
“Remember what I said about the florals? The Taranov Bratva is a lot like that. It’s a dark world to live in, there is no denying that, but it isn’t all darkness.
Nobody is forced to join our branch. Yes, this is the only life some people know, but most of the men who join do it to keep their loved ones safe and provided for.
Their devotion runs so deep that they would lay down their lives to protect them.
There’s beauty in that kind of love. One that transcends the darkness.
Surely, you have someone you love strongly enough that you can understand. ”
I nod my head in agreement, recalling all the people who have meant enough to me that I would sell my very soul to save—Mom, Grandma, Thatcher, Ellie.
The image of my newest obsession flitters across my mind, and I can’t help but smile. “Yeah, there are several.”
Misha pats my back before opening the door for me. “It’s not so bad. I promise.”
Walking to my car, I pull out my phone and shoot Ellie a text.
Me: When can I see you again, pretty girl?
Ellie: Next Wednesday?
Me: Perfect. Dress casual ??