Ruthless Souls (Ruthless Series # 1) |✔|

Chapter - 1 Cold

Serena POV

Men. Men are dogs.

Especially the men who sat in front of me. I watched each one of them closely. If looks could kill, half of them would've been buried deep to the core. The hostility was mutual. They hated me too. The way their eyes narrowed every time I moved made me almost smirk. The fear their faces held, the terror I reigned on them.

Being the Niece of the Russian mafia boss had its perks and they did come with consequences.

My lips pulled up into a snarl when Viktor's eyes stayed a little longer on me. His beady eyes studied me, looking for anything to put me down to the ground. To trample me under his boots.

Bastard.

"So, how is business going on?" Maxim, My boss, aka my uncle asked the Vors. I sat there beside him, waiting for the Vors to speak. 

'There is a small amount of money disappearing once a month.'

My men's words echoed in my head.

'The drugs sold don't sum up the money received, Serena.'

I kept my mouth sealed. The words were buried in my mind, waiting for them to speak up. My eyes slide through their faces, taking in every micro-expression they displayed.

"The Americans are getting into our city more often. I had my men follow them, and they got into it. They are plotting something against us in our territory." Vitali stated. He was the oldest Vor, wise and intelligent.

Being a part of the mafia is not fun but makes you nothing more than a ghost. Ghost everyone fears. Bratva was no joke. You mess with us, we mess up your life. 

"Wait for a month. We will take care of them once we get their dirty plans." Viktor stated. 

That was the end of it. The silence followed had me want to hit my head somewhere. Vors stared at me as if I was a timing bomb. 

I exhaled as I stood, gladly fulfilling their wish.

My face was devoid of emotions. The heads glared at me. My opinion mattered, and they knew how much they weighed. My voice stood out the most here.

"The Americans? Vitali, do you think your men are deceiving you?" I asked, my face stoic.

"They will never." He scoffed. My eyes fixed on him. The confidence and trust he had in his men was so blinding, I wish he had the same on people who mattered.

"Then are you misleading us?" I asked, My voice dropping an octave. His eyes widened in shock turning into disbelief. My eyebrows raised for him to speak. 

"What is your point?! I will never do that." He looked at me in disbelief. I believed him. I walked to the front and turned to every head.

"That man of yours. He is an Irish man and not a Russian. There were not only Americans but also Italians and Irish mafia sniffing around overground. " I said. I raised my hand and clapped. The door opened as the man who conned us was pushed in by my guards.

He was shaking shit. Bratva baby. No love or peace and no mercy. Only war and blood. Torture and screams. As Russians, we took an oath to never shed a tear or take mercy. Stand tall and stay strong.

"James McElroy. His real name. Got into our wings two years ago. Planted more than five grenades in our main cities. Tried to poison Maxim a few weeks ago. Was spotted with Edward Cummiskey, the boss of the Irish mafia a month ago. He has been working for them from the start. Tried to abuse your daughter multiple times, and failed to do so." I finished as I kicked his face with my pointed heels.  I started up at Vitali. He looked at me shocked. His face was pale as paper.