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Chapter XXXI: Kapitan
Aleksander bounced his leg up and down, his left forearm bound to his midriff to stop any movement in an effort to allow his shoulder wound to heal, an endeavor that proved rather difficult for the young heir to adhere by.
Grimacing at the sharp stab of pain rippling through his shoulder at his movement, he looked out the window at the snow covered infrastructure outside before returning his gaze ahead of him, shuffling in his seat and bouncing the other leg, tapping the fingers of his right hand against his thigh.
“So?” He finally demanded, sitting upright and leaning forward in his seat. “What do you think?” His question directed to the Italian Don who sat across from him, a stack of folders laid out while he was flipping through the contents of another.
“Hmm,” The Italian hummed in thought, not providing any more.
“I think
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Aleksander swiped his hand at the fogged up mirror, staring back at his reflection as he pushed back his wet tresses and scratched at his jaw, realizing he needed to shave at the prickly feel against his palm. A knock sounding on the door outside had him look over his shoulder before stepping out of the washroom, pulling open the door to find Fio in front of him. The guard turned and pulled out a khaki envelope from the fold of his coat, handing it to the man before him once the door closed behind him. Taking it, Aleksander pulled open the flap, pulling out the pages and skimming through the contents while Fio busied himself in dressing the wound on the heir’s shoulder. Quickly getting dressed, Aleksander stepped o
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Aleksander could not bring himself to notice anything around him. Kneeling on the floor of the Pakhan’s office, sweat beading his forehead, face ashen, and nausea rolling in his stomach to be surrounded by various photos depicting his wife over the course of the past few months.Letting out a shaky breath, his chest ached to see the images in front of him. Sofia sitting at a café, her head thrown back and laughing with Nicole. Her stepping out of the Maserati, dressed in a black pencil skirt dress under a grey blazer. Then another of her sitting at a bench, hugging herself with her hair hanging out of its up do, tears streaming down her face and staring at the ground.It broke his heart to see his wife so torn up, hunched into herself and sobbing. He didn’t know what she was crying. He wanted to know why. What had happened to leave her so vulnerable and distraught? His mind conjured the worst of w
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The snow scrunched under foot, the white blanket a glaring contrast to the black of the shoes worn by the person. A person made their way across the path with a fur ushanka covering their head and their body hidden by the thick fur coat that was draped over their shoulder, fluttering behind him.Their destination was an obvious one: the bench a top the hill.Making his way up the path, they halted to find a feeble old man huddled in the corner of the bench, their coat weighing heavy on his weak shoulders as tremors passed through his already thin figure. A walking cane grasped between his legs.“Thought I’d find you here,” Aleksander spoke with his hands in his coats pockets, and settled on the other side of the bench. “Papa,”Nikolai’s skin was ashen with his thick mop of hair reduced
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