How to rule a king

два

Alexei:

 Блин! if it wasn't for the girl we would already be on our way back home. Now I was late for my meeting with Vitali stalking through the woods of this cursed estate while the only thing on my mind seemed to be his little granddaughter...bent over my desk ready to fuck.

How in my dead mother's name am I supposed to sign a contract with Russia's greatest drug lord of the modern age if I keep having daydreams about screwing the living daylight out of this girl?

Then again, give me some credit, she was quite striking, no wonder Vitali kept her hidden for most of her life. Treasured for her husband, prepared to be the bonus of the biggest deal in the history of Russia's underworld.

When I first came here with my men, I decided to take a stroll around the grounds to see if I could sneak a peek at her. The temptation outweighed the trouble we would all be facing if being found wandering around on Vitali's grounds. The way Vitali treats the people crossing him was not only what he was known for all over our pretty planet, it also quite resembled the way I tended to treat mine. Our similar characteristics seemed to end there, which however didn't seem to mar our friendship.

While Vitali grew up in a rich-ass family in the Petrov-estate surrounded by nannies, tutors and staff, showered with everything you could possibly buy with money, I grew up as an orphan in the dark, cold underground of Москва́ surrounded by drug addicts, alcoholics, and crime. I never went to school yet I was fluent in 5 languages and knew more about material arts then some of the guys fighting in the UFC. Street life taught me well. I knew all I needed to know to survive as a kid. Once my empire was built I spent some time learning all the stuff kids would normally be forced to study at school. For example, did you know that most historic emperors shagged their cousins so they kept their blood pure? I was grossed out reading that. See, that's the kind of knowledge kids from the streets don't even bother themselves with, it doesn't help us survive the day. I spent my childhood learning how to make deals without anybody uninvolved knowing, how to steal from the rich, but most importantly, I was reminded every day that money is power and with enough power you could be whoever you want and do whatever you please.

Life meant well, when one day during my shift at a constructing firm in the outskirts of Москва́ I overheard my boss, a petty criminal, talking about some arm supply coming in the following evening. That little shit planned on raiding one of Mikhailovich's ware houses.

See, over fifteen years back in time, Mikhailovich had been the most influential mafia boss of the Soviet underworld. However, he was getting old and was lacking an heir. His wife was said to be barren after she got kidnapped and brutally raped by some traffickers. Mikhailovich never even spent a single thought about taking another woman.

He once said to me: "Look boy, my wife is my life, without her I'm nothing and I shall be damned if I ever hurt her."

Guess, he truly must have loved her. Nevertheless, he was still lacking an heir.

So, when the sixteen-year-old me, only in dirty and tattered working clothes, banged on the doors to his office, where he officially worked as an estate agent for the richest of the rich, he saw an opportunity. He asked his secretary, a blond bimbo -who by the way was my first a few months later-, to get me something to drink and some fresh clothes, while he invited me into his private office to have a chat. As soon as we were alone I told him about the conversation I had overheard. When he demanded to know why I would provide him with such lethal information instead of whispering them into his enemies' ears, I simply answered that if I was to be ruled by somebody, I wanted it to be someone who knew his subjects and not some guy who had never seen the ugly side of Москва́'s face. Mr Mikhailovich took me home with him this evening and I never went back to my old life. He raised me in the way you would raise your son and heir. For seven years he taught me all I needed to know about Russia's high society, the who is who of the underworld and how to lead his business once he was gone. Yet, it was on his deathbed when he revealed to me his biggest secret.