Page 121 of Bratva Butcher

His fears were warranted. That was something I would probably do. “I swear I’ll call you.”

“Good. You better. Now, let’s get the fuck out of here. I’m craving a ham and cheese sandwich right now.” Only Mikhail would want to eat something after skinning someone.

We both headed up the stairs and back into the warehouse. Over 50,000 square feet of space, the warehouse was a place I’d created to sit on top of the pit, making it it’s only point of access and escape. It was filled with every type of gym equipment available on the market, and had a world class boxing ring smack dab in the middle of it, perfect for sparring.

Speaking of which…

My eldest and youngest son were currently in said ring, exchanging blows. Several of the men were watching from the sidelines while others were working out on the machines. Rock music blasted from the speakers high up on the walls, creating a light and playful atmosphere.

A complete contrast to what was going on below.

Mikhail said his goodbyes and headed for the exit. As I walked past the ring, Aleksandr flung Lukyan over his shoulder and body slammed him to the ground. Lukyan groaned, curling himself up into a ball as Aleksandr flowed to his feet. He saw me, walked to the edge of the ring and dangled his arms over the ropes, allowing them to support his weight.

“Father. Fancy a spar?” he asked.

“Please, say yes,” Lukyan begged, dragging himself along the floor with one hand while his other was curled around his torso. “Please. For the love of God. Say. Yes.”

I chuckled softly at my youngest son’s antics. Shrugging a shoulder, I said, “Why not?” and climbed the few steps up to the ring and jumped in.

“Thank fuck,” Lukyan choked.

“Oh, stop being such a baby,” Aleksandr commented, but Lukyan was already making his escape from the warehouse at a hurried, brisk pace despite the fact that he was limping.

“I hope he deserved that beating, and you weren’t just picking on your brother,” I said, arching an eyebrow as I unbuttoned my suit jacket and rolled it off my shoulders.

“Of course,” Aleksandr smirked. “I’m a fair and wise leader.”

My brows shot up in surprise. I took off my long-sleeved t-shirt next. Aleksandr wasn’t usually the type to joke around, but I had to admit that, since my return, I’d noticed there was something different about him. He seemed…lighter. Happier.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

It started and ended with that five-foot nothing, dark-haired, tattooed cartel queen of his who was parked right in the front row, watching him with lustful eyes.

I threw my shirt and jacket out of the ring before rotating both of my arms and then putting my fists up.

Aleksandr winked at Drea, who in turn blew him a kiss before he finally gave me his full attention.

“Do you two need a minute alone first?” I asked as we began to circle each other.

A dark smile curled on his lips. “No need. This won’t take long.”

Oh, really?

The growing crowd around the ring “Ooooo-ed” at Aleksandr’s nicely worded insult.

“Fairly confident, are we, son?”

Aleksandr’s smile widened. He threw a light punch, no doubt to test my reflexes. I slapped it away. We kept circling. “I’m you, Father. Just a younger, faster, stronger,betterversion.”

“I see on top of getting yourself a wife in my absence, you’ve also acquired some cockiness.” I lashed out with a light kick, and he did what I did, slapping it away with ease. “Looks like I’ll have to bring you down a peg.”

It had been a while since we’d sparred together. He was right in some ways. I’d trained him to bebetterthan me, but was he there yet?

Guess we’re about to find out.

He made the first move. I waited, watching for that slight shift in his stance that told me he was going to charge, and then I ran forward at the same time. We clashed into a strong grapple, fighting for the dominant position.

“How was London?” he asked casually, a slight grimace on his face as he tried to overpower me.

---