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Chapter 3

Arthur's pov

Like any organization, the mafia has its hierarchy in the form of a pyramid. At the top we have the boss, underbosses, elders, advisors, soldiers and associates, all organized. I was born and raised in Russia, within a criminal organization known as the Bratva. My father, before me, was their leader, he taught me that no member of the organization should show feelings and it took me a while to learn. When I understood, it was in the worst way.

As a young man, I was considered the most dangerous member of the mafia, after all, I was the only one who got involved in the business since I was a kid. My father wanted a ruthless son and he got what he wanted. For years, I was nicknamed the grim reaper, and I always hated being reminded of the story behind that moniker. But, I am the leader of the Russian mafia and I prove that I am not a benevolent man, I never am.

Our organization, being the most powerful, is constantly in conflict with other mafias, defending consolidated businesses and conquering new territories. As a result, I suffered assassination attempts and ambushes, but I never cared about that. I was created for this function and no one could kill me, they never even came close to it.

However, I wasn't always this cruel. To be honest, I was a scared, cowardly kid. So cowardly that I didn't protect the person who had the greatest courage in the world, that of preserving sweetness in the midst of chaos. I allowed my mother to be murdered by my father. Louise was charming and, despite my young age when she died, I remember her blue eyes and red hair, like no other. But that wasn't why my father, Mikhail, married her. Nor was it for love. He married the power he would receive through her, control over rival mafias.

He hurt and humiliated her, but regardless of the hell she went through, she always showed herself to be a strong and persistent woman, because, although he hurt her, she always faced and threatened him, stating that she would run away with me. She knew it only fueled his hatred, but she didn't care. Many times, I witnessed the violence she suffered, while Mikhail fed his ego, showing who was boss, whose power was, who was alpha.

She was silly. She knew that, one way or another, I would follow in my father's footsteps and, unsatisfied, decided to run away with me the same night that he announced that he would go on a business trip. But it was nothing more than a strategy to end it. Her hatred was so great that he didn't hesitate to kill her in front of me and leave her body lying on the ground, as if it were nothing.

After she died, I became what he wanted so badly. Since I was little, I began to be recognized for the terror I caused and my father was proud of me, not knowing that I would kill him to take his place. When that day came, I annihilated him and left him lying in a corner, just like he did to my mother.


I was in the shed where I tortured the bastards, thieves and traitors. Sitting in a chair, smoking my cigar, I watched a soldier torture an asshole he thought was smarter than us. His hand was crushed in a vise. He screamed, pleaded and cried, but I didn't listen, continuing to observe the scene, feeling no remorse.

I was relaxed. Quite calm after the sex I had with a woman from my brothel and so a soldier was doing my job. Once in a while, it was nice to watch someone else enjoy the fun.

  • Stop!

I ordered aloud, and instantly the soldier took a step back, expecting the next task. I got up from the chair and threw the cigar on the floor approaching the traitor and seeing him raise his eyes to face me.

  • Boss.

"Shut up, you piece of shit."

“Forgive me, sir.

“Shut up!

“I did it for my family.

Annoying at his stubbornness, I took a straight razor and jabbed it into his right arm. I drew a line, cutting to the shoulder making a deep, long rip. He was screaming and crying. I asked who had ordered it, but he refused to speak. I had been trying to figure out who the rat was trying to infiltrate and undermine my business for some time. My biggest frustration was knowing that I was torturing a member of my organization and the Bratva are taught to be resilient, resisting torture until their last breath.

— Who is the mastermind? I asked once more.

"Please, sir," he begged.

"Damn it, you're wearing out my patience."

— I don't know his name, he never told me.

"Give me a name, a single name!"

"I can't, he'll kill me."

"You should be afraid of me, you bastard, not him."

“He knew of some crimes that could harm me, so he betrays the brotherhood.

“Nothing justifies you being disloyal, traitors don't deserve forgiveness.

"Please, sir, pity!"

“I'm not a God to be benevolent to filthy beings like you.

"I won't say anything!"

I smile devilishly at his stubbornness and he looks at me scared, reproaching himself for having spoken that way to the girl.

wrong person.

“You die anyway. I'll find out who he is, and when I find him, I'll skin him and throw them to my animals. As for you, you will be in hell, burning alongside traitors.

“Sir, please.

— I know your family, it's a daughter you have, isn't it?

"Leave them alone!" They have nothing to do with it.

"But of course you do, relatives are also to blame for traitors, you know that as well as I do."

'Pity, sir, please.'

"Tell me who it is!" Say a fucking name!

The traitor doesn't really know. I see him distressed to know that I will kill his family and I see the helplessness in his tired eyes.

  • Excellent! Trevor. — I call my underboss.

“Sir,” he approaches.

“Send some soldiers to our traitor's house and fetch his wife and daughter. Torture them in front of him, let this serve as an example so everyone knows what happens to those who betray the Bratva.

“Yes, boss.

Trevor withdrew and I ordered the soldier to sew up the unfortunate man's arm so that he would survive until the family arrived. I walked towards the exit and he continued to beg for mercy, but I ignored him, he knew his family would die with him. I went back to my fortress as I needed a shower. In the room, I saw that my suitcase was packed, the maid had done her duty with care. I would go to Los Angeles, take care of the business I have there.

Although each of my territories had a trusted deputy chief, I always personally made sure that everything ran smoothly. I'm not a man to trust anyone. People are greedy, capable of betraying and killing for money and power. Although I was a mafia leader, I also had a fortune from legal and legitimate sources such as the casinos and brothels that I have spread across the four corners of the world. I'm a businessman known by the media and I keep up appearances so as not to arouse suspicion. Even if the Russian mafia is known, they don't know who leads it.

I traveled in my private jet that after half a day of travel landed on American soil. With absolute discretion, I watch out for paparazzi. I went to the limousine that took me directly to the casino. The sooner I checked that everything was in order, the sooner I would return to Russia. I weaved through the traffic, assessing the casino's accounting on the iPad. I used not to notify anyone of my arrival. First, because he didn't owe any explanations, but also so that no one would have time to hide their mistakes under the rug. I loved doing surprises.

While looking at the accounting, I noticed a small warning in the bottom corner of the device. Someone was trying to hack into my account. I quickly used my hacking techniques and located the rogue device. Beverly Hills. Rather than kick him out of the system, I waited, trying to figure out what he intended to do. Guided by him, I realized that he was trying to modify an account, hiding a high debt. I pay attention, even smiling. All I needed was a reason to unleash my inner demons.

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