Page 2 of King’s Promise

"Nikolay, I need you to go to London, you are to marry his eldest daughter, Anya. I have no clue if his enemies will target the rest of his family, or not. However, I owe it to my friend to make sure his first-born child is protected. You can see the rest of the family settled as you see fit. We discussed the two of you marrying at some point in time. I've postponed it for years to give you time to mature. Now, you are thirty and she just turned twenty-five, so it is appropriate."

“No,” instinctively flies out of my mouth.

“What?” Dad raises his voice again.

“Dad, that is so outdated,” my last word smoothing over the fact I’m being disrespectful. He's Don Volkov and I am being rude even by family standards. “We don't do that anymore. Surely, there is another way we can protect the girl.” The same girl I had a crush on when we were in school. She was the first girl to get under my skin in a way no person ever has, we had a connection. Where others feared me, she stood up to me and called me out for teasing her. It’s been years. I wonder what she looks like now. We were only kids, I’m sure our crush was only that, and perhaps she’s met someone to love by now.

I snap back to the present. I have more important things to do. I can't be married. I prefer my women older, not younger.

“I'm a businessman." I sit forward in the chair and lean over my bent knees to take in my father.

“That's exactly why you need to be the one to go. You are the one who will take over when I am no longer here. We need a larger presence and legitimacy in London. Marrying Anya will automatically get us in larger circles and our Bratva’s will be one. Together, you two can rule better than going it alone. Until your wedding, we need to protect our interests in London, and we will divest our friend’s ill-fated businesses, the ones which are part of whatever debacle he got himself into.” Dad rubs his palms together as he shifts in his chair. “I have a feeling my friend’s death was over his refusal to sell stock short and give up profit margins with an oil company he got into bed with last year.”

I take a long breath. I didn’t see this coming. Father is too smart to play with the political landscape. It’s clear our government is more dangerous than our rivals in organized crime. I slump in my chair, with the news of Igor. Anya... it’s been so many years since I’ve seen her and memories, I buried break free. I shake them off as Dad sits in his overstuffed chair, the type one would find in a high-end hotel, not a home office.

“I warned him not to do it. I went in a bit myself, so I hope it doesn’t affect me. I knew better but he can be persuasive. The rumor is the government is raising money again, maybe Igor didn’t want to take a loss. They killed Igor to make an example of him, thus ensuring upcoming negotiations aren’t met with resistance. I hope once you marry his daughter, everything will return to normal. In the meantime, there is no way Igor’s wife can run the business. I’ve notified Liev you are coming. He’s back in our London operation. He will handle money collections for us and work with Igor’s consultant, Konstantin. You will be poised to merge our businesses. We need to remain strong, son.” He steely eyes, filled with fear, meet my gaze. “Otherwise, we’ll have other nefarious organizations in London picking our operation apart, piece by piece. We can’t chance a power grab; you know what happens next.” His voice falls a few octaves as he remembers his friend.

“War,” Dmitry interjects passively.

“I have a life here.” I groan. Not to mention the relocation will fuck up my weekend plans of sexual encounters at our private club.

“You’ll take over our estate in London. It’s massive. Take Anya there, have a wedding as quickly as possible, keep it a secret. You’ll be a target if there are insiders who want the throne,” he warns as he swivels in his chair, so our bodies are facing each other. I catch a flicker of light in his eyes as he reminds me it’s my duty to marry.

Sure, he hounded me for years, but thirty is still young. I thought I had a few more years of freedom before I was expected to carry on the family name. Forty looked like a good number, even if I was deluding myself.

“On your own turf you can control security. Keep it quiet, look for imposters. You need to be careful. Done correctly, we will send a message to our Bratva and our rivals. Anya is to be one of us. We’re respected as we own our own steel company and shipyards. You will take clean up Igor’s books. Any businesses with partners we don’t want, we liquidate.” His voice is strained, as if his throat is constricted. I wonder what he’s not telling me. He leans back in his padded chair now he’s delivered his message and seemingly, he relaxes.

By delegating and shifting the burden to us, he’s beginning to come out of the dark place he dwelled in when I arrived. Now, I notice color returning to his face. He seems sold on the concept of aligning our families and increasing our income. Done correctly, we’ll gain more clout, and it will increase his power. I shouldn’t lament the fact I have to be sacrificed for the Volkov Bratva, considering it will be mine one day. We were raised to serve.

Dad takes a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes his brow. I don’t have the heart to fight him on this farce of a marriage idea. I’ll go to London and try to find a way to wiggle out of the wedding once he gets over the shock of his friend’s death. We were raised to never show or give mercy; it’s reserved for immediate family, and as a member of this family, I utilize it now.

Marriage to Anya will be an arrangement. I’ll never give my heart, it belongs to the Bratva. There is no room for love, only business. Even children are a business move because one day I will need an heir.

Contemplating my change in plane, I rub the overnight stubble on my chiseled chin. I’ll have more time to think on the jet. No doubt Anya will be easy to push off as she’s young and inexperienced in the ways of the world, and in bed as well. I’ve been told she’s a virgin. A fact my father confided in me before I left him.

I hope she’ll be subservient. I don’t have time for a young woman who doesn’t understand family business. If she resists me, I will change the way she thinks with my cock. Making love is both a talent as much as it is an art. I happen to excel at both. One only need to look at my house filled with my expensive art collection to understand I appreciate beautiful things.

I leave to pack for my trip to London. I pass mom on the way out and she promises to have some of my artwork in storage shipped to London. She mentions the mansion has been renovated this past year to prepare it for the day I would marry. Its woman’s work, however, the fact remains she went out of her way to update the family estate. It’s a loving gesture so I thank her.

After tidying up my home and packing, I have dinner out with Pavel, my advisor, known as a consigliere in Italian Mafias. He is my trusted friend I’ve known since my teenage years. We met after I moved here from the small town where I was born. I fill him in on the changes coming up and make an early night of it.

It’s been a long day and a good night’s sleep is needed. I crawl into an empty bed. I sleep alone no matter what; it’s how I stay on top of my game and keep my emotions focused on business, not pussy.

The phone rings and jolts me awake at two in the morning. Nothing good happens in the middle of the night. As a made man, it’s the time deaths occur, or war breaks out. I am reluctant to answer, knowing it’s bad news.

“Da?”

It’s Mom, and she’s not making sense. Russian is rattled off like M14 bullets.

“Breathe. What is it?” Asking is semantics. If she’s calling me, Dad is dead.

“Your father is gone. He had a late dinner. I woke up, he’s not here. I heard someone say they were ambushed on the drive home. Your father was shot, Boris is dead too.” Her voice waivers.

It’s too early to know if this is an attack on the entire operation or retribution. Dad was not himself today. I’ve never seen him nervous. I assume he and Igor were in bed on a deal which went south. How could he not confide in me?

“I’ll be right there. Don’t move.”

Fuck. I call my brothers to meet me at the house. We assemble in Dad’s office and just like that, I’m the king of the empire, the new Don. We has over assignments and live to see another day.

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