Father opened up a case of cigars and lit one up. The smoke floated towards the ceiling, the aroma familiar and repelling.
“Viktor has expressed he needs some help in his territory. None of the young men want to spend their youth in the Ural Mountains.” Father smiled coldly at me.
No one wanted to go to Viktor’s territory, or any part of Siberia. I heard the words mundane and boring used to describe it. The opposite of the vibrant and exciting Moscow.
There was also the issue of Viktor. Cruel, vindictive and rooted in his traditional ways, Viktor was agonizing to listen to for more than five minutes. Being stuck in rural Russia with him would send anyone insane.
“I think it would be a good fit for you, Kostya,” he said. “You’ve become too...idealist. I don’t think it’s completely your fault. I should have pulled you out of school earlier.”
I shoved my hands into my pockets to hide my first instinct, which was to punch him in the face. Such a violent response would lead nowhere, though it would bring me some satisfaction. I could almost hear Artyom voicing his annoyance at my reasoning.
“What do you think?” Father asked, unable to hide his delight at his punishment for me.
I think you should hide your emotions better, Father, I thought.
“Who will tend to Mother?” I inquired. “Or get money from our street associates?”
Father waved a careless hand. “One of your brothers will handle all that.”
I would like to see them try. Handling Mother was a skill, and I had enough of a reputation through my school and streets that the dealers wouldn’t be happy with a change. None of my brothers had enough tact to deal with either of the issues I had raised–especially Mother. She would manipulate them easily.
“I’m not going to the Ural Mountains,” I said calmly.
“And why is that?” Father asked. “Do you think you’re in a position to disobey a direct order from your Pakhan?”
I shook my head. “No. I have dedicated a lot of time and effort into the streets. I’m not going to lose that because you feel challenged.”
His eyes flashed and I knew I had gone too far. Father smothered out his cigar. “Your little friends will obey whoever I tell them to obey. They may work with you, but they work for me.”
“And Mother? Do you really believe one of my brothers can outwit her?”
“Your arrogance is impressive for your age and stature, Konstantin. That I will give you. But at the end of the day, you are still a child, barely a man. You have been a Vor for not even two years, a blip of time compared to my decades.”
“You’re right,” I ventured. “Yet how will I become more experienced if I am stuck cleaning up cow shit in Siberia?”
“Men like you come and go, Kostya. But it is men like me who stay, who survive.”
I smiled faintly. “I can assure you, Father, you don’t know any men like me.”
Father rose to his feet, his posture tightening. The curling of his fist told me what was going to happen before his arm swung out.
I leaned my head back just in time. His arm flew past, but he recovered quickly and made another lunge for me. The table stopped me from moving and his knuckles crashed into my windpipe, air leaving my lungs in an instant.
“You’re an arrogant child,” Father said darkly.
I hadn’t been a child for a long time by normal definition. Biologically, yes. But I spent my nights navigating the world of illegal narcotics and my days listening in on Bratva meetings. There was no time for dealing with pretty girls and maths homework.
I breathed deeply, steadying my head. “At least I am not going to lose my kingdom due to my stubbornness.”
This time when Father came at me, I was prepared. I caught his wrist and swung it back, using the seconds of his unbalance to take on the offensive. My fist caught the bottom of his chin, forcing his head back.
Father caught himself on the table, sending me a furious look. “I’m going to kill you,” he promised. “That’ll teach you fucking children from growing too big for your boots—”
He made a move to shove me back, but I danced out of his range. My freedom lasted seconds before Father managed to get a hold of my school blazer, and dragged me closer to him. I rammed my fist into his gut, earning a grunt in