The air in Dimitri Smirnov's office was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and unspoken threats. Mikal stood stiffly, his hands clasped behind his back, trying to appear as unfazed as his father, the notorious Pakhan of the Bratva's Northern Division. Dimitri, a mountain of a man with eyes like chips of flint, paced behind his mahogany desk, the polished surface reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights of the room. "The Ivanovs are getting bold," Dimitri growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated in Mikal's chest. "They're moving into our territory, skimming off our profits. They think they can get away with it." Mikal remained silent, waiting for his father to elaborate. He knew the game. Dimitri never simply stated a problem; he presented a challenge, an opportunity for Mikal to prove his worth. At 25, Mikal was his father's most trusted lieutenant, groomed from childhood to take over the reins of the Bratva. He was ruthless, efficient, and fiercely loyal. Or so he believed
Last Updated : 2023-05-11 Read more