Page 56 of Viripotent

1.I marry Inessa and named as Maximoff’s successor.

2.Have an heir to solidify the bond with Moscow to keep Valentin, Vitali, Viktor safe.

3.Get into Dmitri’s home with an invite.

4.Kill Dmitri.

5.Don’t leave Moscow alive.

Killing the Pakhan of Moscow may be an aspiration for some outside of the ranks, as a Vor I know what the punishment will be. But his will be worse, and I will singlehandedly wipe out every fucker who even shares a single drop of his blood.

Inessa doesn’t say anything as we get in the car and her long sigh pisses me off.

“Do you think the same as him?” I ask.

Shaking her head, she deflates and rests against the seat.

“I told you before, my loyalty is to the Bratva. But I don’t think you would intentionally set out for a woman to be kidnapped when there’s no benefit to you personally. You’re an asshole, but everything you do has a motive. Even if it’s for your twisted enjoyment.”

Her answer isn’t enough for me to fully relax, and she shows empathy where it doesn’t belong.

“I get why he’s angry. If I was in that position, I’d kill everyone who was remotely involved. Down to the bastards who made the fucking bricks of where I was being kept.”

She falls silent and turns to me with suspicion and asks what she never has before.

“You didn’t have anything to do with it, right?”

I organized a fucking fight and all of a sudden I’m a conspirator to some sick suka who needs to drug women. Tapping against the steering wheel with my middle finger, I try to push my anger away to keep with the ruse of a spontaneous lunch.

“I’ve never hidden my sins. I won’t start now.”

Any happiness she had over a budding friendship dies a quick death. I’ve only ever given weight to three people’s opinion of me, even those aren’t much concern with the bond in place. The sound of Vanya giggling echoes from my memories, the only person who could ever have control over me. My solnyshkuh cancalm me even when she’s not here. My finger bounces, barely touching the dash, as I repeat mentally what made me, what kept me, what will save me.

Katya is satat the bar in Noctem as Valentin and I walk in. It’s Switzerland with it being the one true neutral place for any organization, but my alertness doesn’t disappear. Every fucker in here would slice the other’s throat for a taste of more power. Taking our table at the back, the Stidda soldiers look wary, and I keep my hands above the table, proving I have nothing to hide.

Valentin turns rigid beside me, unable to mask his features as the fuckers who tortured Vitali walk through. Erion Kadare may not be the head of his criminal family anymore, but the man is still the patriarch of his kin, and he hasn’t hung up his authority with the title of Krye. The last meeting I had with him, he went over my fucking head like some dumb bitch in a shopping center calling the manager and getting Maximoff involved. The reminder of that day and it coinciding with being the first time Inessa declined the ring I provided her with taints the anger I should feel. She was powerful as fuck walking into the warehouse.

The son we’ll be discussing is notably absent as he takes his seat and does the same with his hands as me.

“What do you want to discuss?”

His voice is stilted, and his guards remain stood at the back as the current Krye sits beside him, allowing the deferment. Dion stares at my brother with open hate, it’s funny when they all went to the same school, and I paid a fucking fortune to get them in there, hoping they’d form a bond at a young age and not have to live through any wars.

There’s uncertainty in his eyes and I smile, relaxing back into the seat. Straightening my cuffs, there’s nothing but boredom coming from me as I confirm what will happen.

“I’m taking New Jersey, you’re welcome to try to stop me.”

The dare is there and his jaw tics, feeling disrespected. Before the Albanians can get murderous, I add, “Should that be the case, I’ll take everything that belongs to my bloodline.”

They pause, both Dion and his father fighting the urge to look at each other to work out what they could possibly have that belongs to me.

The majority of the east coast is under the rule of at least one part of the Conglomerate. Between the Stidda, ‘Ndrangheta, and the Albanian’s Enterprise you can’t fucking move without encroaching on their territory and their alliances have been cemented with heirs. I won’t be like the GSS and bend over so they can get their fill, Maximoff is too content with the status quo to fight it with all his legal interests being in New York. Taking New Jersey will put me on top and everyone around the table holds their breath, knowing what it means.

Valentin moves the folder forward filled with partial truth. Dion takes it first, his jaw tensing as he looks at the photos of his niece beside her biological father. They both look at it and there’s a slight pause when they reach the fabricated DNA results showing the adopted Kadare is a Vartanov. Fucking idiots. People are too stupid, too blinded by their allegiances to ever question anything, they just blindly accept things in front of them as facts when they’re so easy to manipulate.

Erion moves closer, the family man unable to maintain control as he wraps it within his brutality. The air shifts with his deadly tone, “Threaten my granddaughter, Vartanov, and the only land you’ll be concerned with is your burial plot.”

Valentin sits up straighter, his body going rigid with the threat as I laugh lightly. He’s an old fuck and there’s beentoo many decades between the man who favored a chainsaw compared to the one in front of me who has clearly exchanged that with whatever the fuck grandparents do.

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