Page 1 of Kaid's Empire

Prologue

Kaid

I am woken to my father tapping me on the shoulder. “Son, wake up,” he whispers. I rub the sleep from my eyes and look at him. Father smiles. “Come with me, today is the day you become part of the Bratva,” he states proudly.

I nod and get out of bed to change. I have been waiting for this day. My father said it would come when he felt I was ready. I am eager to prove and show my father that I can become a strong leader like him.

Once dressed, I meet him downstairs. “Shh, quiet, don’t wake your mother,” he adds.

I nod and follow him as quietly as I can out of the front door and to the car that’s waiting for us. It’s the middle of the night and the roads are quiet as we make our way through the streets of Moscow.

We arrive at my father’s warehouse. Getting out of the car, I rub my hands together, trying to keep warm. I follow as father leads me inside. He stops and turns to me before we walk onto the main floor. He leans down, placing his hand on his shoulder. “Be warned, there is a smell that isn’t nice, and what you will see will startle you. But what I am asking you is that you take it like a man, like a man of the Bratva. I won’t be around forever, and I want you to take my place whenever my time comes. That is why I am starting now, that is why your training starts tonight.” He gives my shoulders a tight squeeze before walking us onto the main factory floor.

I pull my shoulders back and hold my head high. I am ready to be a man. I am ready to show my father I can do it. As we walk in, the smell hits me and I scrunch up my nose. I gag slightly. My father notices. “Try to breathe slowly through your mouth, you’ll soon get used to it.” He winks.

I spot my father’s soldiers ahead, stood laughing and joking around. They soon stop as they spot my father.

My father greets them. “Son, greet your soldiers,” he instructs. I step forward and greet them. My father takes the base of my neck and turns me in the direction of where the smell is coming from.

A man hanging from the wall.

“Mr Ivonich,” I state, knowing the man––I thought he was my father’s friend, a soldier of the Bratva.

“Yes, son, but he betrayed the brotherhood––he betrayed me. His Pakhan. He stole from us. He lied to us, and now he must face the consequences,” he states, handing me a gun.

It feels cold and heavy in my hand. I look up to my father. “You are ready, this is what you're born to do, son.”

He helps, showing me how to hold it and take aim. “That’s it, hold it straight and keep your elbow locked, let your shoulder take the kick back,” Father instructs.

I stand there, holding a gun aimed at a guy my father has chained to a wall. “Will it hurt?” I ask.

“Him, no. If you get the head shot, it’s quick and painless, he won’t know a thing. It’s kinder that way. But if you miss, you will cause him quite a lot of pain and discomfort,” Father adds, lighting his cigar.

I take in a deep breath and take aim. When I think I have it, I pull the trigger. I watch as the bullet hits straight through his head, the sound like when the flesh of a melon is sliced. Blood splatters the walls, and his body jerks.

“Yes, son! You will make an excellent Pakhan!” Father claps. I smile at my father, feeling proud of myself. “Are you watching, men… my son. The future Pakhan, straight headshot at thirteen years old on his first go!” Father cheers. His men all clap me on the back, praising me.

Father leans down. “Probably best you don’t tell your mother about this, she can be a little sensitive about these sorts of things.”

I nod, agreeing. I would never do anything to let my father down. I will become Pakhan of the Bratva, and my father is right, people will fear me. I was born for this role.

One

Kaid

Moscow - 1 month ago

I look out the of the window to the dark grey skies of Moscow. This is my kingdom; this is where I rule. I am the Bravata, the Pakhan, and I fucking despise it. I'm bored, I've ruled this city––this country––since I was in nappies, nothing challenges me here, nothing excites me. I hate the cold weather, I hate how no one dares to speak back to me and how they are all spineless. Too afraid to upset me, too afraid to tell me no.

I look down to the woman currently on her knees, taking my cock deep into her mouth. She moans as I grip her hair tightly in my hand. I close my eyes, concentrating on the feel of her mouth and tongue as she desperately tries to make my flaccid cock hard. It’s not that she isn’t pretty, she's a perfect blonde with a tiny waist, nice perky tits, her ass is a little flat but cute, and she's good with her mouth. She would let me do anything I want to her because I am who I am.

“Faster!” I yell. She moves her head fast, the sound of her fighting her gag reflex as I hit the back of her throat, and I feel my cock getting hard. “Yes,” I growl.

She moans again, this time lifting her head she looks at me. “You like how I––”

“I didn’t say fucking stop!” I bark, shoving her head back down. She takes my cock back in her mouth like the good little servant she is. Just as she starts sucking there is a loud knock at the door. “Fuck!” I yell. I push her off me and stand, doing up my trousers. “What?” I yell. The door opens and in walks Mikhail, my number two, the only man I truly trust, and with him is Oleg… I don’t trust him. If I had my way, he would be dead, but he is Mikhail’s cousin and I promised him I wouldn’t kill him until he does something wrong, which he will. I've seen him, using my name and my power to scare and intimidate. I have no respect for men that use others for self-gain.

“Sorry, boss, but we’ve found Pavel,” Mikhail states, smiling.

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