Chapter 1 – Valeria #2
“Papa—no!” I twist against his hold now, panic rising sharp and fast. “You’re coming with me!”
He doesn’t slow down.
Doesn’t even hesitate.
He reaches the panel, his blood-slick hand pressing against the hidden mechanism.
The wall shifts.
Opens.
Cold darkness yawns behind it.
“Papa—please—”
He turns to me then.
And for the first time, I see it. Not the leader. Not the feared head of the Petrov Bratva.
My father.
There’s blood at the corner of his mouth now. His breathing is uneven, his strength already slipping—but his eyes….
His eyes are still sharp.
Still commanding.
Still unbreakable.
“You will go,” he says, his voice lower now, roughened by pain, but no less firm. “You will not argue with me.”
“I’m not leaving you!” My voice breaks despite everything I try to hold together. “We can both—”
“No.”
This time, it’s final.
A command that has no alternative.
“If you stay, you die.”
The words land hard.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
“And everything I built dies with you.”
That silences me.
Just for a second.
Just long enough.
It’s all he needs.
His hand comes up, gripping my shoulders, and before I can react, he shoves me back.
I stumble into the passage, my foot catching on the uneven ground as I fall hard against the cold floor.
“Papa—!”
The door slams shut.
Darkness.
Complete.
The mechanism seals with a final, unforgiving click.
“No—no!” I scramble to my feet, throwing myself at the wall, my hands slamming against it. “Papa! Open it! Please—open it!”
My fists pound against solid stone.
Nothing moves.
“Papa!”
For a second, there’s only silence.
Then—his voice. Muffled through the wall.
Weaker.
“I’m sorry.”
My breath catches.
“I’m sorry I could not protect you.”
Tears blur my vision, hot and relentless now, but I press closer, my forehead against the cold surface like it will bring me closer to him.
“No—no, don’t say that—”
“I trusted the wrong people.”
The words are quiet.
Heavy with something I’ve never heard from him before.
Regret.
“Listen to me, Valeria.”
I still.
Even now—I listen.
“You will go to America,” he says. “You will find the Rusnaks.”
I frown. Them?
The Rusnaks are the most powerful criminal organization in America.
But not just in America. The Rusnaks are known across the underworld as a family that doesn’t forgive and never forgets.
Their empire stretches across cities and continents, and their leadership circle is both feared and respected.
They don’t trust easily, and last I checked, my father and the Petrov family are their prominent rivals.
“Papa, but the Rusnaks—”
“They are the only ones strong enough,” he cuts in, sharper despite the strain. “The only ones who can protect you now.”
“They won’t accept me, Papa. I’m a Petrov.”
“They will accept you. Trust me, Valeria. Do as I say.”
A beat.
Then, softer—
“Do not trust anyone who promises mercy.”
The same lesson.
The one he taught me all my life.
Only now, it sounds like a warning.
Like a final truth.
“Papa, please—come with me,” I whisper, my hand flat against the wall, desperate, useless. “We can still—”
A sound cuts through.
Distant.
Shouting.
Closer now.
Then gunfire.
Right outside. On the other side of the wall, where Papa is.
I go still.
Completely.
Then I hear it.
My father’s voice.
Sharp. Commanding, and cut off too quickly.
Another gunshot echoes through the passage, the sound muffled but unmistakable.
Final.
Something inside my chest caves in.
I don’t need to see it.
I know.
They came back.
To make sure.
My fingers curl against the wall, my nails scraping uselessly against stone as the truth slams into me with brutal clarity.
He’s gone.
This time, he’s really gone.
For a second, everything inside me threatens to fracture.
Grief rises fast. Violent. Suffocating.
But it has nowhere to go.
No space.
No time.
Because the same thought crashes in right behind it: They will come for me next.
My eyes snap open.
Breathing sharpens.
Focus returns.
Anton didn’t just kill my father.
He took everything.
The house.
The men.
The name.
The power.
And if he’s done that, then I’m the last loose end.
The last threat.
The last thing standing between him and complete control of the Petrov empire.
That means he won’t stop. Not until I’m dead.
The grief doesn’t disappear.
It freezes.
Hardens.
Locked somewhere deep where it cannot slow me down.
I push myself away from the wall.
And I run.
The passage is narrow and dark, the air cold and stale as it stretches endlessly ahead of me. My breathing echoes too loud, my footsteps too fast, but I don’t slow down.
I can’t.
Not now.
Not ever again.
Above me, the estate burns with noise—gunfire, shouting, the collapse of something that was supposed to be unbreakable.
But down here, there’s only me. And the sound of my own survival.
I don’t know how long I run.
Minutes.
Maybe longer.
Time doesn’t exist anymore.
Only distance.
Only escape.
Only the single, driving need to get out.
Finally, a faint outline appears ahead. The exit.
I push harder, my muscles screaming now, lungs burning, legs threatening to give out, but I don’t stop until I slam into the door, my hands fumbling for the release.
It gives.
Cold air hits me like a slap.
Sharp.
Brutal.
Alive.
I stumble out into the forest, boots sinking into untouched snow as the night closes in around me. The trees stand tall and silent, their branches heavy with frost, the world eerily still compared to the chaos I left behind.
For a moment, I just breathe.
The cold slices through my thin clothes instantly, biting into my skin, but I welcome it.
It keeps me awake.
Keeps me moving.
Behind me, through the trees, the estate glows.
Lights.
Movement.
Flashes of gunfire cutting through the dark like distant lightning.
My home.
Still standing.
But no longer mine.
I should have gone to the garage.
Taken a car.
Prepared.
But instinct overruled logic.
The risk was too high.
Too exposed.
And now, it doesn’t matter.
Because I already know where I have to go.
There’s only one option left.
One place strong enough to stand against what’s coming.
The Rusnaks.
The name settles heavily in my mind.
Dangerous.
Unforgiving.
Powerful enough to matter.
My father’s last move.
His last gamble.
Now—my only chance.
I have nothing.
No protection.
No allies.
No home.
Only the clothes on my back, the blood on my hands—and the knowledge that my own blood is hunting me.
For the first time in my life, I’m completely alone.
The realization is quiet.
Cold.
Absolute.
And if I don’t reach them in time, I won’t just lose everything.
I’ll die.