"I would set the world aflame, and never let a single one touch you."
"You better not, or I'll set you on fire."
❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎
Nikolai Alekseev; The leader of the most powerful group in the world - The Bratva. He has lived his life with the only purpose...
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I didn't mean to hurt her.
She's mine. I love her. I would do anything for her.
Fuck. My beautiful, sweet angel. I didn't mean to scare you.
I was utterly obsessed with her. She consumed my every waking thought. I couldn't think without her consuming all the space in my mind.
I wished I hadn't been so fucked up. I could've met her as a normal man, and she wouldn't hate me like she does now.
Maybe, I would've went up to her during a shift and asked for her number. Or pretended to bump into her and accidentally spill her drink all over each other. Then, I could've offered to take her out and make up for her loss.
But, I was an Alekseev. Men that knew nothing except force, power, and obsession.
My father raised me to be exactly like him, and I hated him for it. While my mother was kind and loving, he was cruel and torturous.
She knew nothing of my father's training, if she had, she would've attempted to put an end to it. Instead, she believed I was off at a posh boarding school in Switzerland.
I was forbidden to ever mention it, threatened with death and beatings. Father would have nurses clean my wounds and tidy my bruises before I was presented to her.
I could tell that she knew something was wrong, but she was just as scared as I. Even though she loved him, he was still the ruthless Pakhan.
I was forced to attend training at the age of ten. Physical combat, mental torture, and everything in between.
I was there for 624 days.
14976 hours.
898560 minutes.
53913600 seconds.
I was locked in a small, concrete cell. No windows, no shower or tub, just a rotten mattress in the corner smothered in blood stains.
The iron door was opened twice a day; once for food and the other for training.
I wasn't the only boy there, I quickly found out.
There were at least forty others, all staying within their own, isolated room's.
We were stripped upon arrival and given worn-out rags to wear.
They smelled horrid, and yet, they were still the best smelling things in that place.
Time became non-existent. I knew that after training, I would pass out for long hours before I was forced out of bed for snippets of food.
When I realized that my days there weren't numbered, I decided I had to keep track myself.
I used a piece of broken up concrete, and sharpened it against the walls. When it was finished, I began marking each training, a way of knowing how long I had been trapped there.
