𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐬

~Volkov~

Unkown's POV

My name is Aslan Ciro Volkov. The Russian Pakhan, the head of the Bratva.

A widower to Stella Briar Grey-Volkov. 

Stella Grey-Volkov, also known as the Reina of the Spanish Mob.

A father to Ariella Lilac Volkov, the heiress, and princesa to the Russian Bratva and Spanish Mob.

I am the older brother of Malakai Volkov, who has a special seat in hell reserved for him. 

Malakai, the one who killed my wife and daughter or still has her. 

Through the years, all I've known towards my brother is vehement hatred. He wasn't even considered my blood anymore in the mafia world ever since I put a bounty on his head for a billion dollars. I've sent the best assassins after him but they never got close to bringing me his body. 

I don't know why he did what he did, and I don't care. All I care about is his head being detached from his body. 

The moment he succeeded in taking them, they went completely off the radar. The 3 billion trust fund he had from my parents didn't help either. He most likely used the money to make them seem like ghosts to the outside world. Not even ghosts...fucking non-existent.

My parents always took pity on Malakai because of his manipulative and psychotic behaviors. They thought he just needed extra guidance and help. 

He does need help.

The help of my fist and gun.

Malakai always hung out with the wrong kind of people. Eventually, he and his posse formed their own group of havoc-wrenching maggots. He manipulated people into doing his bidding and he and his small gang were acknowledged as the 'West-Russians.' They were cast out and for a good reason too, but my parents still saw the good in Malakai. 

But that night, their minds never changed so fast. 

Their disgust for their youngest child only grew over the years. They loved Stella like she was their own, and when they saw her slit throat and green eyes dead open, they'd never cried more. 

I don't remember much of that day.

I think I was drinking, killing, or demanding the doctors to bring her back as if she still had a chance. I don't know how I survived that day.

Parents say that they could never hate their children. And most times it's true...I could never hate my Ariella. 

But my parents started hating Malakai with all their heart the second he did what he did. 

I remember them loving their granddaughter more than life itself, but when Malakai had her swaddled in his arms with a dark smirk, the love turned into fear. 

Fear of their own child. 

Fear of what their child could do to a baby. 

Now they're old, not wanting to die before seeing their granddaughter again. Like me, they don't want to face the possibility of her being with her mom, 6 feet under. 

'She's alive. She has to be.'

I have to tell myself every day just so I can breathe. So I have a reason to go on each day. 

So I have some hope.

"Aslan, I need you to follow me," Tobias, my right hand, spoke. Tobias also happened to be the Godfather of Ariella and my best friend.