Chapter 1 - Iosif
Pushing open the doors of the bar, I stepped inside and quickly scanned the room. The loud music pierced my ears. The pungent odor filling the room was mostly cigars with a hint of alcohol mixed in. I had a plan and was determined to stick to it. I was on the prowl, hunting for the youngest female, Aslanov. I was set on getting vengeance.
They did everything in their power to ruin our alliance with the Morozov and Dubow tribes. I could maybe still excuse that, but they made a bigger mistake. The Aslanov Bratva targeted my little sister, Zhenya, and almost got her killed.
They went too far and stepped over the line. When our father passed, she was still a young one. I raised her and loved her like a father. When it came to her, I was weak. Her needs and desires were at the top of my priorities. That was the only reason Akim Dubow was still standing and breathing.
Keeping my little sister safe was one of the most important things in life. No matter how chaotic life got, her smile always warmed me. She grounded me. Sure, her decisions could be, at times, questionable or even impulsive. But I couldn’t bring myself to deny her what makes her happy. Even when I try to stand firm, she pulls me in, and all resolve crumbles.
That is why I decided to spare Akim once I found out he truly loved her. I never imagined anyone could love her as much as I do. Even though his love for her was different, it was just as strong. If not for him, she might not have made it.
When those men came for her, wanting to kill her, he stepped in. Akim single-handedly took out five or six men to protect her. Yes, she wasn’t supposed to be there with him. But maybe she was, as he saved her life.
I will always be grateful that he saved her, no matter how I feel about him. Yet, we still have our differences, and I don’t have to like him to be grateful. The fact is, he was there when she needed someone. For that, I owe him.
This mix of emotions was new to me and made me feel strange. I had resentment tangled together with appreciation and anger. But life wasn’t black and white. I may not want him around, but it is what she wants.
I shook my head and wiped the lone tear, trying to force out the haunting images of my sister almost dying. My chest tightened all over. The Aslanovs will not be spared. They will feel my pain and vengeance. In all my life, I have never gone for an innocent person. I didn’t intend on doing that now. But after what they did, they had to pay.
It was fair to do unto them as they did unto me. However, I was nothing like them, even though I was targeting their baby sister. I intended to harm them differently. I wouldn’t kill her.
No, I intended to get her and keep her. I would use her to get to them, to get to Kolya, the head of the Aslanov family. I would never drop to their level. Hurting them that way would be far too easy on them.
They deserved to suffer, to understand my pain and what they’d done. They don’t know the depth of my resolve, how far I am willing to go. No more games, no more lies, no more cruelty.
Tonight, I take the first step on the path of delivering true misery. Hellfire will rain down and scorch the earth they stand on. I was done holding back. They had no idea what was coming. But soon, they’d wish they had never heard my name.
I scanned the room. I knew I had my work cut out for me. Despite all the thorough research I’ve been doing, I still haven’t been able to find one image of her. This would be tricky, as Ididn’t even have a name. The youngest Aslanov was a well-kept secret. I had no idea what she looked like.
I would bet everything that Kolya was keeping her profile intentionally on the down low. I was surely not their only enemy. A family like theirs had more than their fair share. I felt sure he didn’t want what he had done to us to happen to them.
I knew this hunt might take a while since I had no idea who I was looking for. I had just started settling with the idea when a source came to light. I heard a little bird say she would be here with a group of friends.
Not knowing who she was didn’t bother me as I was a confident man with a plan. My instinct would lead me. I knew I would get to meet her. I’d seen a grainy photo, which was enough for me.
I had never been here at this bar in this part of town and didn’t know what to expect. But the place appeared decent enough. The bar sat on one side in the back. There was a stage on the opposite side, and tables were scattered between them.
As I slowly started making my way to the bar, I studied the clusters of people. There was an elderly couple at one table, making small talk or just enjoying each other's company. That was something I knew would never be in my future.
My life was way too complicated. Too much violence surrounded me. I couldn’t even picture a life where I could sit anywhere with a significant other and just relax. Drink, eat, and laugh without worrying about the world we live in.
The constant tension, the need to stay on guard, it was all I knew. There was no space for the kind of peace others take for granted. No room for lighthearted moments. My reality doesn’t allow for those simple treasures. They’re a luxury I’ll never have.
At the next table sat three younger men as loud as a thunderstorm, and then there were two tables with only women.
In general, the air smelled of alcohol. But as I passed one of the tables where the loud men seemingly were playing beer pong, I smelled weed. I passed them and moved to the corner of the bar. I needed a better view of the two tables where the women were.
The one table seemed to be a mix of young and old. I felt sure she wouldn’t be at that one as she was supposedly out with friends. These women looked more like they could be family.
Glancing at the other table, I saw a group of six women. They all appeared in their early twenties, but I could be wrong. Yet, somehow, I knew she was one of those women. I felt one hundred percent sure.
I ordered a beer. Turning to my side, I studied the group, wondering which one was my prey. They were all dressed up, some a bit over the top for a place like this.
As I studied each of the women, watching them laugh, nodding, and drinking, I wondered which of them was the Aslanov. I tried to see if any had similarities to the Aslanov brothers and sisters. Yet, they all looked like random women.
I couldn’t discern any common family traits in any of them. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that one of them didn’t belong. That one of them, beneath the glamour and laughter, was an Aslanov. She was playing a role.
Scanning their features with more care, my mind wandered. The tilt of one's head, the guarded glance of another, even the subtle posture, was confusing. I was good at reading people, but these women boggled my mind.
