Chapter 2 #2
I’m already in no mood to face whatever bullshit is waiting for me once I step in through those front doors. No doubt, another fire will land in my lap and I’ll have no choice but to turn around and head back out to deal with it.
Such is the way of life as Pakhan.
I push the door open and step out, breathing in the slightly chilled air.
Winter’s been dragging its feet this year, too proud to let spring claim its place.
The cold clings like a warning. Normally, I wouldn’t give a damn about the weather—cold is a constant in this country, but freshly fallen snow makes it harder to cover blood stains and even harder to bury bodies when needed.
And right now, bodies are piling up faster than holes we can dig.
Lev falls into step behind me, boots crunching against gravel dusted with slush.
We move up the front steps and into the compound through the wide double doors.
Heat blasts us as we enter, but it does little to thaw the tension coiled inside my chest. I shrug off my coat, toss it on the nearby hook, and roll my shoulders to keep from feeling like I’m wearing iron chains.
The scents of cigar smoke and lemon oil hang in the air. The floors gleam, recently polished and spotless. Everything is pristine, sterile, unlike the chaos outside.
Two of my enforcers are already inside, waiting.
Viktor leans against the back of one of the leather couches like he’s trying to play it casual, but the slight tic in his jaw gives him away. Stephan, the younger of the two, is pacing near the fireplace, a stray dog itching for trouble. The moment Lev and I enter, they both stiffen and turn.
“Pakhan.” Viktor nods respectfully. His shoulders stay square, his posture tight. “We have some… unfortunate news we must inform you of.”
Of course they do. What else is new?
I lift a hand, stopping him before he can ruin my mood further.
Without a word, I stride to the wet bar installed into the far wall.
Lev doesn’t follow, choosing instead to perch himself on the armrest of the nearest couch, one leg crossed loosely over the other.
His silence says enough, waiting for the hammer to finally fall.
I pour two fingers of vodka into one glass, then another. The soft glug of the bottle is the only sound in the room for a beat too long. I walk back and hand one of the glasses to Lev, who takes it and braces it on his knee without a word.
Mine disappears in one long, steady pull. The burn is welcome. It grounds me just enough to meet Viktor’s eye. “Well?”
Stephan steps forward this time. “The Petrovs were found dead this morning.”
For a second, I don’t move. The words hang above us like a fog rolling in, cold and heavy.
“What?” I finally say.
“Slaughtered,” Viktor adds. “Every last one. Their estate was hit sometime overnight.”
Another silence. I stare down at the empty glass in my hand, then back up at them both, letting out a slow exhale through my nose.
The Petrovs weren’t just business associates. They were legacy. My father’s allies. My goddamn godparents in all but name. They’ve been with us since before I was born, through regime changes, turf wars, and police crackdowns.
Old blood. Loyal blood.
This isn’t some robbery gone wrong. This is a message.
“How?” I ask.
Viktor and Stephan exchange a look. It’s never a good sign when my enforcers hesitate.
When he finally clears his throat, Viktor says, “We’re not sure. CCTV was wiped clean. Looped or deleted before the hit. The guards were down. Some of the staff tried to fight back, but they didn’t stand a chance. The time they were hit seemed quite calculated.”
Stephan rubs the back of his neck. “A couple of grandkids were also there.”
I stare past them for a moment, trying to picture the scene. The blood, the screams, the helplessness. I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth, trying to settle the bile rising in my throat.
“Any survivors?”
Viktor shakes his head. “None.”
Another slow breath escapes me. I set the glass down carefully on the nearest table.
My fingers flex once, then curl into a fist. The Petrovs weren’t involved in any petty disputes.
They weren’t liabilities like many of my family’s other contacts.
They weren’t weak. They were a force to be reckoned with.
“What else?” I ask, already bracing.
Stephan doesn’t flinch under my gaze. He’s used to pressure. Still, his tone is cautious. “We’re looking into who their last contacts were with. We’ve pulled whatever data that we can. Matvey is combing through existing footage from the past few days to see if anything stands out.”
“Did they have any visitors in that timeframe?” I ask.
“No logs of any, but…” He shifts his weight, uncomfortable. “No alarms were triggered. Whoever it was came straight through the front door.”
My jaw tightens. No breach from the outside. Just a quiet walk into a house full of trusted loyalists, and a slaughter that followed.
An ally, then. Not good.
The Petrov estate was as fortified as my own compound. Someone close to them had either turned or was bought off.
The latter might be worse because it meant there was a price that had willingly been set and paid.
Beside me, Lev shifts, the subtle crack of his knuckles breaking through the silence. “Sounds like a power grab. The Petrovs were one of the richest families we worked with. A lot of influence. A lot of capital. Did Matvey look into their financials yet?”
“Not yet. He said he would. His focus is still on the footage. He wants to know how far back the loop started, see if it was tampered with earlier in the week. There may be signs of surveillance from outside. If it was someone close, they’d want to monitor habits before striking.”
Lev’s gaze shifts to me again, a knowing look in his eyes. He’s thinking the same thing I am. This wasn’t just a hit made by an opportunist. It was a damn thesis on precision.
I glance around the grand hall, eyes lingering on the polished crown molding, the tall windows, the thick stone walls reinforced with steel. The vaulted ceilings and heavy doors screaming of wealth and security.
This place is built like a fortress, much like the Petrov estate had been. And yet… they were no match.
A cold thought edges in around the steel barrier I keep up in my mind. How easy would it be for the same thing to happen here?
Someone walking through our gates, someone we trusted.
I grind my molars together and force it down. This isn’t the first fire someone’s lit beneath me in recent weeks, but it’s certainly the largest.
I step forward, voice flat. “Dismissed.”
Viktor and Stephan barely flinch, already used to my clipped tone in the aftermath of bad news. Both men bow their heads in respect. “Yes, Pakhan.”
They slip out in silence, their footsteps quiet on the polished floor as they retreat. Lev doesn’t move other than to lift his glass up to his face. The amber liquor catches the low light as he swirls it once before taking a long look into the swirling center like it holds some kind of prophecy.
A line’s formed between his brows.
“It might be wiser to leave some of the Sovet in the field,” he finally says. “Pulling everyone in for a sit-down… it could leave us exposed. Especially if this problem is more widespread than we think.”
I’d only ever allow Lev to question me like this. He’s earned the right, far more than anyone else within this syndicate.
“I’m not willing to take any risk by letting this simmer in the background. We let this fester too long already. If someone’s taking out top contacts, then they’re preparing for far worse. This is them testing the waters to see how we’ll react and planning accordingly.”
His eyes stay on me. “You’re thinking it’s a purge.”
“Yes.”
A slow breath leaves him as he lifts his glass to his lips and drains it in a single go. The only hint of reaction is the slight flare of his nostrils at the burn. He stands smoothly, setting the empty glass down with a soft clink.
“I’ll head downstairs, see what Matvey’s dug up. He’s been quiet today, which usually means he’s found something that’ll make us want to drink more.”
I offer a humorless grunt. “Let’s hope that’s the case. If not, we’re already at a disadvantage.”
Every second we stand still, the noose tightens.
“I’ll call you both when the rest of the Sovet arrives,” I say.
Lev turns, pausing as he reaches the open archway. “Not until everyone arrives. I don't want to be stuck alone when Katya and Roman get here.”
I raise a brow. “You really can’t deal with their arguing today?”
“I haven’t slept in two days and I’m tired of watching her emasculate him in every conversation. It’s like live theater but worse because they can’t even fuck it out afterward.”
“Fair enough,” I mutter. “I’ll stall them as long as I can.”
Lev flashes me a rare smirk before disappearing down the hall.
I exhale through my nose and reach for the bottle at the wet bar again.
By the end of tonight, I’ll be lucky if I don’t go to bed wasted beyond belief.