Page 5 of The Bratva King's Claimed Bride

“No, please,” I tried to wriggle. Danil lifted his hand again and hit me in the face once more before he grabbed my face and held it.

I felt the icy cold tip of the blade and then a searing pain as Kervyn cut along my cheek.

“What are you children doing?” A man yelled from nearby.

Kervyn and Danil took off quickly, and I got up slowly. I could feel the warmth of blood running down my face as I got back to my feet. A hand came down on my shoulder.

“Let’s take you home then.” I looked up to see an officer.

“I didn’t mean to come in here. The boys were chasing me. Please, I don’t want to miss school.”

The officer grimaced and shook his head. “Come on, let’s go see your parents. This isn’t a play yard.”

Reluctantly, I led him back to my parents' house. He knocked on the door, and the worst possible thing that could happen happened.

My father answered.

He looked at me and then at the officer. He grabbed my face and lifted it. “Who did this to you?”

I didn’t say anything.

“Who did this to you?” He lowered his voice, and I trembled.

“The Milov brothers. Kervyn and Danil,” I said quietly, hoping it would lessen the blow.

“They were playing in the rail yard,” the officer said. “I won’t write him up this time, but it best not happen again.”

He left, and my father backhanded me. “You coward. How could you let them get the best of you?”

“Igor,” my mother cried from inside. “Nikolai, the child is bleeding. Bring him inside.”

“The world is going to tear you apart, Igor. You need to learn to defend yourself. Tomorrow, you start boxing lessons.” My father walked back into the house as my mother came and pulled me inside.

“You can stay home today,” she soothed me. “Oh, this is going to scar your beautiful face, Igor.”

She had always been like that. She was so caring that I was handsome and tall. She had stemmed the blood and bandaged me up before sticking me in the playroom with my brothers and sisters.

I still have that scar. I remember that day. I remember all the days they tormented me until their father decided to leave his brother in charge of the Russian operations and take his sons to America. I thought there would be peace then, but I felt an emptiness.

A need for revenge for all the misery they’d put me through.

Then, I learned about the family business and realized just how big enemies they were. How business flowed between us, stolen and stolen back.

Deaths.

Unnecessary deaths.

The Milovs versus the Sidorovs.

I waited for my father to challenge the Milovs in America, but he never did. I wanted him to take us abroad so that I could face my childhood bullies and take everything that belonged to them, but my father stayed.

He wanted to build the enterprise we were growing in Russia.

No one started with the Sidorov family.

No one except the Milovs.

I finish off my whiskey and kill my cigar. I stand and walk to the window to look out over the lovely garden I’ve had designed for my acreage.

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