Page 73 of Scarred Bratva King

“You sure you don’t want back up?” Ivan asks, his tone neutral, but I catch the flicker of unease in his eyes.

“We abide by the Code,” I say. “Just me and him, two bosses talking.”

“You obey the Code.” He sighs. “But what if Lombardi doesn’t?”

“Without honor, we have nothing, Ivan.”

“Noble sentiment but you’re talking about the guy who gave you that scar. Who’ll be Pakhan, oh great wise leader, if he kills you?”

“Not you if you don’t quit with that shit.” I check my gun. “Relax. I know what I’m doing.”

I leave him behind and head for the entrance. The door is unlocked, swinging open under my touch. The building is deathly quiet.

The interior is designed to intimidate—black marble floors, mirrored walls, and gold trim that only makes the place feel more sinister.

My footsteps echo in the cavernous lobby as I scan for signs of life.

Nothing.

A chill creeps down my spine. This isn’t right.

I keep moving, my hand resting lightly on the grip of my gun. My senses are sharp, my pulse steady.

Vito doesn’t strike me as the type to let a man like me walk into his domain without some kind of reception.

Abide by the Code that rules us all. Russian Pakhan to Italian Don. We’ll talk about Marco’s death, come to terms. Then I’ll kill him anyway. Because fuck honor, this is more important.

I reach the end of the hallway and push open a heavy double door. It groans loudly, revealing a large, empty room.

The only light comes from a TV screen on the far wall, its flickering glow casting distorted shadows across the polished floor.

The screen crackles to life, and there he is—Vito Lombardi, his oily smirk filling the frame.

“Maxim,” he drawls, leaning back in his chair as though we’re old friends catching up. “Surprised to see you abiding by the Code.”

“Not surprised to find you breaking it,” I reply. “Too chickenshit to come in person?”

He chuckles, the sound grating. “You won’t find me here. I’m alive because I’m smarter than my nephew, may he rest in peace.”

My jaw clenches. He’s baiting me, and I know it.

“Get to the point,” I say coldly, my voice steady.

Vito leans forward, his face filling the screen. “You’ve made quite the mess, Maxim. Killing my nephew, disrupting my operations. You think you can just take over your little empire and I won’t respond?”

“You’re welcome to try,” I reply evenly, but my grip on the gun tightens.

His smirk widens. “Oh, I will. But not today. I knew you’d come to kill me, I’m no fool. But I prefer to play the long game.”

I take a step closer to the screen, my muscles coiled. “What are you getting at?”

Vito’s eyes soften. “You killed my nephew. I have the right to fight back but that wife of yours needn’t be a part of this.”

“Get to the point.”

“I’ll give you twenty-four hours to get her out of your place, send her back to that shitty humdrum life of hers.”

“And then what?”

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