Boris Pavlikovsky Novels & Stories

Mariana's Pov “Alexandr Radimr Vastlav. Thirty five years old. The newly named Pakhan of the Orekhovskaya OPG. In simple terms, the Crime boss of Bratva. First son of Vladimr Zakone Vastlav.” My slides pad against the floor as I make my way down the stairs, dreading the conversation that I’m about to have with mio padre. “His family and our family haven’t been great friends for years and it unnerves me how a son of Zakone would want to be in business with our family.”

If there was a man, America needed to be afraid of, it was Boris but some of the worlds most dangerous criminals never appear to be criminals and such was Boris Egorov. He was not tall but broad shouldered, with unusually wide forehead and dark hair that were always combed backwards and were always shining with gel. His face was that of a strong man with a chin that protruded outwards. Women always wanted to take a second look, for underneath the suit, he seemed like the man who had lifted weights. His stockiness had a masculine sex appeal to it which women noticed. If you stood close to him, you would smell a manly fragrance that was a mixture of perfume and cigar and it went quite well wit

“‘Classic Cocktails.’ Aperol Spritz—refreshing drink with a light citrus bitterness, 220 milliliters, 170 hryvnias.” “But… how?” he stared, baffled. “I have a very strong photographic memory. You read that I finished my studies externally, right?” “Yes, but I thought you were just a bookworm…” “No, there was no point sitting and listening to material I could absorb way faster than everyone else. And also— I, Victoria Aleksandrovna Lemeshko, am a certified biochemist, senior technologist, and specialist at Nikolai Koshev’s company. Nice to meet you.”

Chapter 63: Left Knee Or Right Nico's POV We track Boris to a quiet dacha on the edge of Macau. An old safe house that would seem unoccupied if we didn’t know he was in there right now. Sasha drives. I ride shotgun, watching the snow-dusted pines slide past the windows. Neither of us speak much. We don’t need to, actually. We took three more days to dig into what we had. The offshore accounts. The call logs. The CCTV stills of him handing envelopes to my father’s driver. Boris has been bleeding the Bratva for almost a year.

“Leonid Antonov. Built a billion-dollar tech empire focused on data surveillance, facial recognition, and internet control. Has close relationships with FSB leadership. He ruins reputations or erases people from digital existence.” “Nikolai Sidorov. Owns several national TV stations, newspapers, and digital platforms. Crafts public narratives and suppresses dissent.” “Boris Vlasenko. An ex-enforcer turned strategic consigliere. Boris is a grey cardinal who oversees dealings between Bratva factions. Knows where all the bodies are from the previous regime.” “Roman Melnikov.Controls massive infrastructure projects, including bridges, highways, and state-funded housing. He has built half of mode

a deep, smooth voice called out, drawing my attention. I turned to see Viktor Volkov, an associate from the Bratva in Russia, standing beside us with a glass of whiskey in hand. He was a tall, well-groomed man with sharp blue eyesand a reputation for being both charming and dangerous—a combination I wasn’t particularly fond of at the moment. “Volkov,” I greeted curtly, keeping my arm around Giselle’s waist. I didn’t care that I was acting extra possessive of her tonight as long as it kept the other men away from her.

he said sincerely and I nodded. "Viktor is an honorable man then," I asked again because if he hesitated, I'd break into Viktor's room and drag my son away, no matter what the two were doing. Vlad nodded and said that Viktor was a Slovakian tsar from the fifteenth century and his last name is Pokrvný and it's associated with blood in his home country. "I'm certain your father Mikhail knew him and if I recall they grew up together in Russia," he added and I shrugged not caring about anything to do with my late father.

Unlike Derrick whose father had died while he was still very young and got sent to Jan for training. Boris had risen to the top ranks in the Mafia and had become one of Jan's trusted boys. He was hardly seen and only went on deadly, high level clearance missions. So when Rolph saw Boris, two things came to his mind. One, What happened? Two, Am I in trouble?"

Nikolai's POV "The state of the Northern pack is in disarray. There has been a disorganized rearrangement of their distribution system..." I scribbled onto the paper, taking mental notes alongside. The pack's state had gone down, due to the recent increase in border rivalries. I needed to see to that. "There are measures we can take to reduce the number of inter-pack disputes... I've written them down." "Great job! You did well, Alan! Have Marcus see me as regarding that." He beamed at my praises. He was my newly appointed secretary.

“ If you don’t mind me saying this, I think we have waited long enough. It’s best if we talked about what brought us here so we could handle more important matters. “ Viktor said. He was the head of the security detail to make sure all the ranks and Nikolai remained protected. “ More important issues? “ I asked while cocking my eyebrow at him. “ Yes. The war with the Russians, for example. “ He replied. I laughed, eliciting dirty looks from the ranks. “ Is there something funny with what he said? “Vincenzo asked. Everywhere there was disrespect towards me, Vincenzo had to be involved. “ As a matter of fact, there is. How do you expect to fight the Russians if you have battles in the family?