Page 2 of Savage Boss

Vlad swung around, lowering the knife.

The back door of Svetlana’s mother’s shop was open behind Victor and light was flooding the alley. Vlad’s stomach sank to his shoes. His father knew about Svetlana and judging from the expression on his face, he didn’t approve of the association. Vlad wasn’t surprised. Any connection to Petrov was blasphemy to a Sitnikov.

“Sir.” Vlad stood a little straighter as he faced his father’s wrath.

“You dare to drag the Sitnikov name through the mud by darkening this whore’s doorway?”

Vlad thought his father was talking about Stevlana’s mother, Tatiana, but he wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. He would stand up for his girlfriend and her mother, the same as he would stand up for his mother and his infant sister. Vlad didn’t give a shit what his father did, so long as he didn’t beat on the women in their family. Since Vlad grew bigger and stronger there was an unspoken agreement that Victor wouldn’t touch the women of the family so long as Vlad worked for him, obeyed his commands, made the Sitnikov name proud.

“She’s not a whore,” he snapped at his father.

Victor’s shoulders stiffened and he lifted a fist to punch Vlad, but Vlad sidestepped him and brought his knife up, not quite a threat, but a warning.

It took Victor a moment to control his temper, but once he did, he spoke calmly. “This association disappoints me, Vladimir.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Vlad said stubbornly. “I love Svetlana. I will continue to see her.”

Victor couldn’t hold his vitriol back this time. “You stubborn little fuck. I knew I should’ve drowned you at birth like the mangy dog you are.”

Vlad was so used to his father’s insults that they no longer touched him. “Are you finished?” he asked coldly. “I have plans.”

Vlad decided then and there that he would move out of his family home and into the city. He was young but he was wily and smart. He could easily make his way in Moscow without riding his father’s coattails. The thought of leaving his mother and baby sister, Anastasia, in the same house as their violent father made his guts burn, but he had to move out or Vlad would end up killing his father. Vlad would have to do his best to protect his mother and sister from afar.

“Da,” Victor said in a drawl, “I am finished.”

Those three words sent a shaft of ice down Vlad’s spine. He shoved his father aside and lurched for the open back door of the shop. He flung himself inside, but he knew before he even saw the carnage. The metallic smell of blood wafted in the air.

He stopped in his tracks and shouted his pain as the reality of what his father had done punched him in the gut. On the floor of their cozy kitchen were two women, Svetlana and her mother. They were dead, laying in a pool of their combined blood, their throats gaping open in horrific yawns.

Through a numb haze, he heard his father enter behind him. Victor stood beside Vlad and placed a falsely comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing tight enough that Vlad was pulled out of his frozen horror.

“We don’t associate with Petrov whores,” Victor said before spitting on Svetlana’s body. “You will be more careful in your future associations, da?”

When Vlad didn’t speak, Victor squeezed the back of his neck so hard, Vlad thought he was trying to strangle him.

Finally, Vlad spit out his agreement, “Da.”

“Excellent!” Victor crowed before releasing Vlad’s neck and slapping him hard on the back. “Now, clean up this mess and get your ass home.”

Victor released Vlad’s neck, turned and walked away, leaving Vlad to dispose of the dead bodies of his girlfriend and her mother.

Without conscious thought, Vlad turned on the spot, leapt on his father’s back and slit his throat from ear to ear with the knife he was still holding. As Victor dropped to the floor clutching his neck, his loyal guard dog came hurtling through the door.

Using the element of surprise, Vlad was able to throw himself on the larger man and slam his knife into his neck, severing the carotid artery. Vlad leapt out of the way of the flailing arms and watched dispassionately as the two men died together on the floor next to the bodies of two innocent women.

Vlad went to his father as Victor took his final breaths and kneeled next to him. Victor’s face was a picture of shock and panic as his eyes began to dim.

“Dos vedanya, father. I will see you in hell one day.”

* * *

Three years later.

“It is the judgement of the Moscow chapter of the Bratva that you travel to America to manage our overseas interests. In return, you will receive a cut of all business conducted on our behalf. You will also have our permission to seek new avenues of business.” Romanoff looked up sternly, his steady black gaze on the vicious young enforcer. “Establish yourself and make us proud.”

Vlad sat calmly at the high table of the Bratva, his brain whirring with possibilities. Representatives from most of the Moscow Bratva families were in attendance: Volkov, Romanoff, Grekov, Grigorovich, Maximov and Petrov. Though there was no seat for Sitnikov, the name had been respected before the death of his father. It was now both respected and feared.

Vladimir ran the streets of Moscow. It had become his personal playground. His word was law, his brand of terror legendary. His was the name whispered in the streets, like some kind of bogeyman, which was saying something for a young man of nineteen.

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