I walked into my uncle’s mansion with a calm, measured pace. As soon as he spotted me, his voice boomed, laced with forced cheerfulness.
“Gleb!” He strode toward me with his arms wide open. I accepted the greeting, allowing him to tap my back before gesturing for me to follow him.
“Come,” he said, leading me toward the dining area.
I had spent two years in this house in the past. Nothing had changed. My uncle still clung to the same antique furnishings. Heavy drapes, an ornate dining set, and a space that reeked of history. He liked his home to feel untouched by time, as if preserving the past gave him control over the present.
Once we sat, he eyed me curiously. “Gleb. What an unexpected visit.”
I hummed in response, glancing at the food laid out before me.
His gaze sharpened. “That Italian girl. She seems… unharmed. Strange, don’t you think?”
I met his stare, unimpressed. “And?”
He leaned back, studying me. “Just curious. I expected her to look… worse. Yet, when I visited? She didn’t look like a woman suffering at all.”
I shrugged, pulling a candy bar from my pocket and setting it on the table between us.
“I remember how much you loved these.”
His eyes flickered with something akin to hunger as he snatched it up. “How the hell did you get this? Western imports aren’t easy to come by these days.”
When I lived here, that candy had been his weakness. Even with doctors warning him to avoid sugar, he never listened. But government restrictions had made it nearly impossible to get goods from the West, which only made his cravings worse.
He unwrapped it eagerly, but before taking a bite, he hesitated, narrowing his eyes at me.
“You’re being uncharacteristically generous.” His grip tightened around the bar. “First, you pay me a sudden visit, and now you come bearing gifts. Should I be concerned?”
I leaned back, meeting his gaze evenly. “If I meant you harm, Uncle, you wouldn’t have seen me coming. Our family has thrived in unity for decades, thanks to Grandmother. If anyone wished you dead, it wouldn’t be me.”
His shoulders relaxed as trust settled back into his expression. He bit into the chocolate, savoring it.
“Gleb, you should see me as a father. Family isn’t just about direct lineage.” He exhaled slowly, taking a bite. “With your father gone, it falls to me to guide you. Whether you acknowledge it or not, I am your father now.”
I watched him eat, letting the moment stretch before I finally spoke.
“Uncle, why did you come to my house uninvited?”
His jaw twitched slightly. “Are you saying I can’t visit my own godson?”
“But you knew I wasn’t home.”
“I heard rumors you might be in Mexico, but I wasn’t certain.” He took another bite before glancing at me. “Do you have more of these?”
“No.” I pressed my palms against the table, the wood creaking under the force. ‘You walked into my house. You laid your hands on my wife.
His expression soured. The chocolate in his grip suddenly seemed less appetizing.
“You pushed her down the stairs, slapped her, kicked her, nearly tore her hair out,” I said, my voice calm but sharp as a blade.
His gaze snapped to mine. “I thought you didn’t care for her.” His lip curled in disgust. “Yet now you speak as if she holds any worth.”
“She’s my wife.”
His nostrils flared. “That bitch’s mother burned your mother to death. And you’re already catching feelings? Pathetic.” His voice dripped with contempt. “No wonder I didn’t see a single mark on her. Instead of breaking her, you’ve been protecting her.”
He scoffed. “That’s why you kept us from your wedding, isn’t it? Afraid we’d see the truth?” He shook his head slowly. “What would Grandmother say if she knew? That her heir, the leader of our Bratva, has grown weak?”
My fingers tapped once against the table, a slow, deliberate sound. My tone was deathly quiet.
“It was a gross mistake to enter my home and touch my wife. You don’t actually think I’d let that slide, do you?”
His eyes darkened with realization. “Gleb… Are you here to kill me?” His hand slipped beneath the table. A second later, he pulled out a gun, gripping it tightly but not yet aiming it.
“Guards!” he shouted, preparing to call out again.
“Don’t.” My voice cut through the air like a knife.
He hesitated.
I tilted my head, watching him carefully. “That candy you just ate. I smiled, slow and deliberate. “It’s laced with a substance that will kill you. Slowly. Painfully.”
His fingers clenched around the wrapper. His breathing quickened.
“You…” His hand trembled as he pointed at me. “You poisoned me?”
“Your sons are old enough to take care of themselves.” I checked my watch. “Soon, you’ll start feeling numbness in your limbs. First, partial paralysis. Then full stroke. You’ll be trapped in your own body, useless for weeks, maybe months. Plenty of time to reflect. To regret.” I met his desperate gaze. “To wish you never stepped foot in my house.”
Antonio laughed dryly. “You think this scares me? I’ve survived worse.”
Then he sways slightly. His fingers tremble. His breath comes quicker. “What… What the hell did you do to me?”
I want to watch him claw at his throat, scramble for help, call whoever he could, like a helpless, dying animal. I wanted to see the regret in his eyes, the moment he realized he should have never laid a hand on my wife.
But I had places to be.
No one would be able to prove I killed him. But they’d suspect. And suspicion alone was enough to keep their hands off her.
My wife is mine. No one else.
“Goodbye, Uncle.”
His final words followed me as I turned to leave.
“My sons will come for you, Gleb. The entire family will.”
I barely spared him a glance. “You won’t be alive to witness it.”
And with that, I left.
Twenty minutes later, I arrived at the exchange site. Ten of my men were stationed around, armed as always.
As soon as they saw me, they greeted me with the usual forced politeness.
“When will they be here?” one of my men asked.
“In two minutes,” my consigliere replied. I nodded and pulled a cigarette from the pack, lighting it as I leaned against the car’s hood.
Deals like this could go south in seconds. One mistake, one miscalculation, and we’d all be lying in a pool of our own blood. But death doesn’t scare me. I’ve already lost everything that mattered.
Two black SUVs rolled onto the scene, headlights cutting through the misty night. The doors swung open, and the Chicago men stepped out, rifles slung across their chests.
One of them carried a metal case. Small, but worth over ten million dollars in product.
“Hey,” the leader greeted, his voice sharp.
My consigliere took a step forward. “Is our shipment intact?”
“And our weapons?” the Chicago boss countered.
“Yes.” My consigliere gestured toward the truck we had stationed. The deal was simple, our weapons for their drugs.
I rarely stood at the forefront of deals. I preferred to watch from the sidelines, letting my consigliere be the face of our mafia.
“Open the truck,” the Chicago boss ordered.
A signal from my consigliere, and the truck doors swung open. Two of their men moved forward, inspecting the weapons. After a few minutes, they exchanged a look and gave a small nod. Confirmed.
“Now ours,” my consigliere said.
The Chicago man carrying the case clicked it open. Inside, neatly packed bricks of weed. My consigliere took a handful, sniffing it.
Once.
Twice.
A second sniff was all I needed to know something was wrong.
“Clear?” the Chicago man asked.
But my consigliere hesitated.
I stepped forward, reaching for the product myself, but the Chicago man snapped the case shut.
“And who’s this? Your watchdog?” he sneered. “Step back. Your boss is already checking.”
Fool. He had no idea who he was talking to.
I smiled, exhaling a slow stream of smoke. “Can we be civil, gentlemen? I know this is our first time doing business, and trust isn’t exactly in abundance. But let’s not turn this into something it doesn’t have to be.”
A tense pause. Then, at a signal from their boss, the man reopened the case.
I took a handful, brought it to my nose, inhaled deeply.
Fake.
I dropped it and leaned back against the car.
“It’s fake,” I murmured to my consigliere.
My instincts told me we were seconds away from bullets flying.
“Confirmed?” the Chicago man asked.
“It’s fake.”
The moment the words left my consigliere’s mouth, our guns were drawn. The Chicago men moved just as fast, weapons raised, fingers on triggers.
“This is Russia,” I said, my voice cutting through the tension. “Not America. This is our land. And you think you can walk in here and deceive us?”
Then my phone rang.
I glanced down. Zoya.
I frowned. She knew better than to call me during a deal. Unless…
I answered, my voice low. “Zoya, I’m in the middle of something.”
“Anna is sick. Her temperature is high. The doctor has already come, but she’s not getting any better.”
Something twisted in my chest. My grip on the phone tightened.
“Okay.” I ended the call. My emotions splintered inside me. I wanted… no, I needed to go home. To be with her until she was better.
But I couldn’t.
If I walked away now, it would be seen as weakness. And if we let these men go unpunished, others would think they could cheat us, too.
I was about to speak when a shot rang out.
I ducked, drawing my gun.
My phone vibrated again. I fired a shot, taking cover. The screen flashed Zoya’s name.
I almost ignored it. Almost.
But then…
“Gleb…”
Anna’s voice.
“Please,” she whispered. “If you’re not too far… can you come home?”
I clenched my jaw. “Why?” My voice was ice.
“I’m so weak,” she breathed. “I’m burning up. I feel like I might die.”
A bullet whizzed past my right ear. Too close. Someone had locked onto my position.
“You’ll be fine,” I muttered.
“I don’t know if you even care, but… please. I need you. Or would you rather see me dead?”
Dead?
I was in the middle of a war. One that could end me first.
“I’m not leaving this for you, woman,” I lied.
The silence on the other end stretched. I could hear her soft cries. It cut through me more than any bullet ever could.
With a growl, I switched positions, lining up my shot. My finger squeezed the trigger. Another one down.
Two of my men were dead, but most of theirs had fallen. Three were trying to retreat, scrambling toward their van.
I bent down, grabbed a rifle off one of the Chicago corpses, and raised it. My phone was still pressed to my ear, Anna’s quiet sobs echoing in the background.
Rage burned through me. I aimed at the van.
“Don’t let them escape,” I snarled. “Fire!”
Bullets tore through the night. The van’s tires burst, but the engine roared to life.
I reloaded. Fired again. And then…
Boom.
The explosion rocked the air, flames consuming the vehicle. The remaining Chicago men were no more.
Sweat dripped down my face. My muscles ached from the adrenaline.
In my ear, a soft voice.
“…Bye.”
I didn’t reply.
She thought I wouldn’t care if she was sick? That I wouldn’t drop everything for her?
I pressed my foot to the accelerator, the engine growling beneath me. The car shot forward.
I couldn’t wait to get home to my wife.
