Page 1 of Big Bad Wolf

ChapterOne

“You summoned me?” I ask, gritting my teeth as I stride into my father’s home. Staring daggers at my cousin, Bogdan, my father’s lackey, I move past him and head toward the office, the only room my father is comfortable doing business. He’s so paranoid, he has it checked for bugs twice a day and no doubt, ran a last-minute check before I arrived.

“Stop being so dramatic. I’m only the messenger. Your father wanted to speak to you and said it was urgent,” Bogdan grumbles through the corner of his mouth, puffing a cigarette before deliberately blowing smoke in my direction. He’s my father’sSovietnik, legal counselor, and fourth in command. He’s technically below me, but truthfully, I think the old man likes him better than me.

Bogdan’s an all-around pain in my ass. I’m sure he’d love it if someone knocks me off before my father retires. With me out of the way, his father, my Uncle Nikolai, would take over, and then his family would have the keys to the Volkov Kingdom.

No fucking way. I’ve waited too long to rule and if I have to crawl back from hell to take the reins, that’s precisely what I’ll do.

Bogdan knows his days are numbered. I’m not my dad. I don’t believe in keeping my enemies close. That bullshit is for bleeding hearts and suckers. If my enemies come close, they die—end of story. I’ve routinely taken whatisn’tgiven, stealing from the Italians and encroaching on their territory. It’ll be a cold day in hell when I let anyone take what rightfully belongs to me.

“Get that crap out of my face,” I snap and rip the cigarette out of his hands, tossing it over his shoulder, onto to floor. He loves to piss me off and test my patience. Every time I lose my temper, he reports back to his boss, reminding him I’m a loose cannon. I don’t know why he bothers. No one knows me better than my father.

His new bodyguard, a man I’ve never met, reaches for his gun, launching my lieutenants, Lev and Artem, into action. They quickly subdue him and nearly dislocate his shoulder in the process.

Bogdan rolls his eyes and commands the overzealous kid to stand down, then turns to me. “Settle the fuck down, Vas. This is your father’s directive, not mine. He didn’t mention why he wanted to see you, but my best guess is he heard about your little street fight with Massimo De Luca, and he’s worried you’ll ruin his truce with the Sicilians. You can’t blame him. You do tend to ruin shit.”

My brows crease with confusion. I’m the family fuckup?Me?Bogdan’s little brother, Maksim, shot himself in the foot loading his gun. How the hell did I become the dunce?

If Massimo is why I’ve been dragged away from work, this should be quick. Motherfucker accused me of cheating at cards, and there was no way I could let that stand. My father understands shit like that. He once put a man in the hospitable for calling him a liar.

Besides, it was a fair fight. Massimo struck first. Fortunately, I anticipated the trajectory and dodged the brunt of it. It’s not my fault he’s slow. He underestimated me. He won’t do it again.

“Do you want us to wait here?” Lev clears his throat to get my attention, and I point him to the library next to my father’s office. It’s one of the largest rooms in the house and is filled with my father’s collection of first-edition books. He’s a man who defies stereotypes. They call him the Wolf of Brooklyn. It’s a play on the name Volkov, which means wolf in Russian, but it’s also a reminder that he’s the number-one apex predator south of the East River.

People have feared and revered him for decades. Boris Volkov is the boogeyman orKoschei,a demon who cheats death, living to kill another day. He’s a cold-blooded, sociopathic killer who destroyed his enemies with brute force and built his empire on the backs of the dead.

But he also enjoys classical literature.

“Yes, but don’t touch anything. My father will know if something is out of place,” I warn, then follow Bogdan into the inner sanctum. As expected, I’m accosted as soon as I enter the room.

“I know what you’re doing, and I want you to stop,” my father groans, his hand shaking as he pours himself a glass of vodka—no water, tonic, or ice. Like his father and grandfather, the old man takes his poison straight. As much as I love a stiff drink, I don’t need to pretend to like the taste of rubbing alcohol to feel close to my roots. In our part of Brooklyn, memories of the motherland surround you.

“What are you implying?” I rub my hand across my jawline and scratch my beard, buying time and feigning ignorance in hopes of ending this conversation before it begins. Frankly, this could be about anything. Since I turned thirteen, I’ve incurred his wrath daily.

My father’s brow furrows with annoyance, and his mouth tightens as he grunts. He takes a sip and tips his head at a figure in a dark corner of the room. Hushed Russian words pass between them, and I squint to get a better look at the man who just called me a fool. It’s my father’s younger brother Nikolai, hisobschak,negotiator, and right-hand man.

Why did he need to invite this prick to berate me? I’m twenty-seven years old, and he still treats me like a kid. If I wasn’t in my father’s home, I’d put a bullet in Nikolai’s fat head.

“You know precisely what I’m implying. We know you’ve been stalking Senator Rossi’s daughter like a dog in heat, and I want you to cease immediately before one of her father’s thugs spots you and reports your actions to their council. I don’t need you bringing personal trouble to the brotherhood. We have enough problems without you adding delusional intentions to the mix,” my father growls, narrowing his gaze as our eyes meet, almost daring me to question his authority.

“I’m not pursuing a fucking relationship with some Park Avenue princess. She’s a spoiled brat who probably only spreads her legs for her uptown fancy boys. This has nothing to do with sex. It’s strictly business,” I sneer and try to convince the men staring at me through narrowed eyes that I’m not attracted to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And as far as I’m concerned, her legs will only ever spread for me.

Of course, I’m hot for her. I haven’t touched another woman since I learned of her existence. I don’t claim to be a saint. I spent many years enjoying the company of women, but all that ended when I spotted myLittle Redemerging from her father’s limousine. There was no sense trying to be with another woman. My dick knows what it needs, and it only wants her.

“I’m serious.” I exhale and scratch the back of my head, letting my gaze roam from side to side to avoid making eye contact with my father. I can tell by his expression I haven’t convinced him, but perhaps I made him doubt his initial conclusion.

I expect immediate pushback from Bogdan. He’s notorious for providing unsolicited opinions. But he remains speechless and turns his wide eyes to my father.

“For fuck’s sake, Vas. You lie like a child. What kind of criminal has such difficulty with deception?” my father scolds me, shaking his head before taking another swig of vodka. His jaw ticks as he swallows it down, then returns to the bar to pour another.

“I’m serious. This is business, not pleasure. Senator Rossi fucked us over years ago when he took our money and then got in bed with the Sicilians. He owes us, and you know it,” I shout, depicting anger I don’t feel. It’s far better to admit a practical reason for pursuing Scarlett than proclaim my undying love for a woman I’ve never met. Love and lust are weaknesses, and sharing your vulnerabilities with ruthless people is never a good idea.

“First of all, he tookmymoney, notours. If I can move past it for the sake of peace, then you can too. And stop pretending this isn’t about getting your dick wet.” My father’s icy glare is meant to put me in my place, but I refuse to back down where she’s concerned.

Scarlett Rossi may not know it yet, but she belongs to me. And anyone who tries to take her away will suffer the consequences.

“That was terrible, kid. There’s no shame in chasing a woman, especially one as hot as Scarlett Rossi, but you can’t afford to have your head in the clouds. She’s off-limits, Vasily. Even if all you want is a one-time fuck, she’s untouchable,” my Uncle Nikolai rasps as he sucks on a cigar.

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