The Dark Side

Chapter Six.

Alex's POV -

"What's wrong Papa?" I ask, shoving a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth. I'm like a heart broken chick when it comes to ice cream. Only vanilla though, I like to keep it simple.

"I have a long night ahead of me Alex, you're coming with me. And can you stop shovelling that sugar into your mouth? It's a heart disease in a tub, get a piece of fruit instead."

I roll my eyes at him, ignoring his advice. Papa is a health freak, nothing with sugar passes his lips. He's naturally built strong and broad but with his healthy eating habits, he's basically a muscle machine. Thankfully, I inherited his genetics. That doesn't stop me from eating ice cream, I love ice cream.

"Who are we meeting?" I ask, reaching over for my black gym bag. I keep everything I need inside it, my two pistols, tape, a pocket knife, metal wire, a stash of cash and a first aid kit. The first aid kit is for me, everything else isn't.

"I have a meeting with Dimitri Petrov." Papa says quietly, keeping his voice down. There's no-one else around us but he's still aware of his tone. My eyebrows shoot up in surprise and I pause, turning to face him.

"Dimitri Petrov?"

My tone immediately turns cold, icy.

"Yes."

Dimitri Petrov is the gang leader of the Russian mob that run the town next to ours. When Papa and I first moved to England, Dimitri had it in for us. We spent endless amount of years fighting with each other until recently. Both men finally settled their differences and realised together, they could build an empire that is unbreakable. Another main reason, Petrov can help me and Papa with our ultimate goal, revenge. That doesn't mean we fully trust each other, Papa and I don't trust anyone. It simply means we're doing business with them.

It's all about the money. The power.

We feed off it, it keeps our blood pumping through our veins.

I reached inside my bag for my pistol, my fingers wrapping around the smooth object. I pulled it out and passed it between my hands, checking it was all loaded and ready to go.

"I'll definitely be needing this with Petrov in the room." I muttered, placing it into waistband of my jeans around my hip area. It's the closest section to my hand meaning I could get a good grip of it within seconds. If I need to.

"No guns." Papa snaps, shaking his head at me. I scoff at him, turning to glare at him.

"You are joking, right? Please tell me you're joking." I argue back. Papa's jaw tightens and he inhales deeply at my fiery attitude.

"I'm not joking. Keep the guns here."

"Papa, you can't be serious! This is Dimitri Petrov! He broke your neck only two years ago! His gang tortured me for three weeks." I say icily, my tone full of hatred. I lift my shirt up, exposing the numerous amount of scars that run up and down my body. I tried to hide them with tattoo's but after the first few, you give up. Working in this dangerous business, you won't leave without scars. It's impossible.

"Look at what they did to me, don't you remember? You want me to walk in there without a gun? Are you serious?" I hiss, dropping my shirt back down. My breathing is heavy, my chest rising and falling heavily with the anger pulsing through my blood.