Three

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We have to go

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We have to go." My father startles us as he enters the study door with force. Even my baby sister stopped babbling in my mother's arms.

I was old enough to know that darkness in my father's eyes whenever he came home. Someone had disobeyed him, but why was he telling me to come? I didn't dare question him if I didn't want answers with the end of his leather belt to my back. Even that, too, wouldn't answer my question.

I swallowed hard and looked at my mother. She didn't fear Father and didn't know of the beating I received for trying to enter his office. It was one time, but who said it wouldn't happen again?

"Where are you taking him, Fyodor?" My mother placed Katya into the rocker and walked to me. She could sense my fear, although I tried hard not to show it. Father said it made men weak if they showed emotions, but I wasn't a man; I was ten years old, a little boy.

"Do not interfere where you're not concerned, Yelena. In case you've forgotten, he is the heir to the bratva." My father ignores her and comes for me. I sucked in a sharp breath, refusing the urge to hide behind my mother's safety.

"He is a boy, Fyodor. You said four more years." She argues with him. What were they talking about? On rare occasions, my mother rows with my father. She would only do it when he mentioned the heir to the bratva. I didn't know what that was, and it confused me greatly every time.

"I've changed my mind, Solnechnyy svet." He stopped before her and caressed her cheek with his thumb. I didn't understand how he could be so lovely to her yet wicked to the men on this compound or even beat me into submission. "I mustn't let my men wait."

Translation: Sunshine

"You're Pakhan. You can stop it today." My mother whimpered.

"I gathered my men for this event, Yelena. I'm not going to make a fool of myself. Today, I will induct Adrik into the bratva. Enough said." My father dropped his hand and turned his dark eyes to mine.

"He is ten. Fyodor, please." My mother begs, pushing me behind her.

"Give him to me, Yelena, or I'll force your hand." He snarls, threatening to make me cry. I didn't want to cry in front of him because he'd spit evil words in my face.

The profound silence happened for a minute, the two glaring at each other. Then, my mother stepped away and watched me with her glossy eyes. She nodded once and turned away from me. I knew she had more to say, but with my father in the room, that wouldn't happen. He hated weaknesses. "Follow me, boy." I hesitated, waiting for my mother to give me her cerulean eyes, but it never came. Before my father could lash out at me, I turned to the door and followed him.

We walked silently down the dark hallway until we entered the dead of night. A gust of wind knocked me in the face, and I shivered. It was snowing heavily, and I knew we had a snowstorm.

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