A Treacherous King- Dark Mafia Romance

six

Caine

I sometimes forget just how beautiful my city is at night. With its unique mixture of old and modern architecture. From the bright colors of the cathedrals, to the artistic scenes. It was a masterpiece all its own. My only purpose in life was to protect it. To rid the streets of vile men who wish to strip it of its beauty.

The meeting this afternoon with Maksim has been plaguing me. I had known something was amiss by the tension in the room. It was suffocating. My suspicions were correct, but that didn't bring me anything but dread.

"You have news?" I inquired. Maksim sat across from me, hands clasped resting in his lap. Maks had called a private meeting earlier this morning. Telling me to meet him at The Grove, one of my many hidden locations in the city. Although it was only him and I occupying my small office space, the room felt stifling.

"Spit it out." I demand.

"Caine. You and I have worked closely together for years. I would trust you with my life. As you would trust me with yours, no?"

I was growing increasingly irritated by Maksim's stalling. I don't reply. For one, I do not trust anyone with my life. Not even myself. Maks knows that. We have known each other for a long time. I had recruited Maks to join the Bratva three years ago. He had been a hitman, hired to kill rivaling businessmen in the city. He had quickly become one of my deadliest soldiers and he was fiercely loyal to the Bratva. A quality I respected in my men. .

"Last night, after the raid on Bortnik. Leo and I happened across something. Something you're not going to like, boss. It was Ivan."

I straighten my spine at the sound of Ivan's name.

"He was parked down by the river, leaned on the hood of the car like he was waiting for someone. Leo and I thought it was odd so we stayed back to see who showed up." Maks's words seemed to still in the air. The room is growing smaller and smaller. My head starts to pound in rhythm with my racing heart.

"It was Vlad, Caine. They talked for half an hour or so. Then parted ways. What would Ivan be doing meeting up with Vlad at midnight?" He says, confusion marking his scarred face.

My blood is boiling. So hot that I wouldn't be surprised if my skin started peeling off. Ivan. The fucker. I knew he was up to something. He had been evasive the last couple of weeks ever since I had left him out on the raid on Sergei.

It had been on purpose. Ivan, the old bastard, seemed to sometimes forget who was boss. He had given an okay on a trade deal with Vincent Rossi, an arms dealer for the Italian mob, without my knowledge. I had only found out about it after Rossi called me accusing me of short-handing him. I knew he would retaliate somehow. I just didn't expect it to go this far. Having secret meetings with Vlad made you as good as dead. It didn't matter how long I had known Ivan. Fraternizing with the enemy was punishable by death.

"All you have to do is order the kill." Maks says. The opportunity to spill Ivan's blood making his skin glow. He had always warned me of Ivan's scheming. I regret not listening to him sooner.

"No. I need to wait for him to show his hand." I want to toy with him first.

After the meeting with Maks, I needed a drink. We had stopped by my club Belaya Roza (The White Rose), for drinks. I needed something to take my mind off Ivan and his betrayal. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to pay him a visit with my 9 mm.

Just as I was starting to unwind, Simon had called saying Anya, Simon and Nadia's mother had had an episode. Anya suffered from epilepsy and often had difficulty recovering from her frequent seizures. This one had been significant. She was okay, but was put on bed rest. Nadia had to rush away to see her, which meant my houseguest was there all alone.

Yuri, my driver, pulls to the front steps and opens my door. I adjust the buttons of my Armani suit and jog up the steps towards the front door.

Upon entering, I immediately note the silence. With Nadia and Simon not here, the house seems empty. I climb the winding staircase to the second level of the house, passing by the normally vacant guest room which is now occupied by my unwanted guest.

I stop short when I notice the door ajar. I approach it, pulling the door wide to find the bedroom empty. A cold sweat forms on the back of my neck. I swiftly exit the room and storm down the steps. Where the fuck is she? Irina must have heard my return because she comes around the corner carrying a tray of tea.

"Chay, ser?" Tea sir? She holds a cup out to me.

"Gde Amerikanets?" Where is the American? I bite.

"Biblioteka. Ona byla tam ves' den'." The library. She's been there all afternoon.

My blood is acidic as I storm across the foyer. Once I reach the double doors of the library, I stop short trying to calm my racing heart. The thought of her in my mother's favorite room of the house fills me with enough rage to decimate an entire city.

My mother had requested for my father to add the library to the floor plans when building this house. This room had been her safe haven, a place all her own. For her to sit and read, to escape to another world. A world where her husband wasn't the fearless Pakhan of the Russian Bratva.

I ease the door open, giving my eyes a moment to adjust to the dark. I spot her sitting in my mother's favorite reading chair. Her legs are folded underneath her, an open book resting on her lap. Her long dark hair is pulled to the right of her shoulder, her pale neck exposed.

I feel like a predator silently stalking its prey approaching her. The events of today, of learning of Ivan's betrayal, has left me hollow and emotionless. The urge to wrap my hands around her small neck and squeeze is all to temping.

I lean down, the smell of lavender and her infiltrate my senses. I learned at an early age to keep rage at bay. To not let my enemies see my emotions. If they see what is behind my mask, they can see my secrets. So I learned to conceal my inner thoughts. To only let them see the monster that my father created.