MATHEUS 18+

New Flame

"How long does a goddamn shower take?" Matheus questioned me, I peeked out of the shower door at his figure leaning against the double round sinks.

I've been here for another month and Matheus and I have settled into a kind of routine.

Matheus wakes up very early every day, naturally, and then turns over and wakes me up.

Then we brush our teeth, and he waits for me to finish showering and getting dressed, and then we walk downstairs and eat breakfast with his quiet but obviously sinister family.

Although these days it's just Malia, the pre-teen boy, Lucy, her baby and her daughter and Laurie.

No one really talks during breakfast, sometimes Laurie will grow bored by the silence and say something to me.

Matheus leaves after that, leaving me to roam about. I spend most of my days looking for a map, a computer, or anything that could tell me where I was and which direction I should head off in, to get far away from this place.

When Matheus comes back, it's usually already dark outside and my body is full of food, and I'm wrapped up comfortably in soft sheets.

He'll ask me how my day was as he strips, preparing for his shower.

I would debate myself mentally over whether ignoring him was an option, only to remember the feeling
Of his large hands wrapped tightly around my neck.

I'd give him a generic answer and roll over to face away from him. He didn't really push me to say anything more, he'd just shower and do everything he needed to do before throwing on a pair of boxers and falling besides me in bed. Just like that, the cycle would begin again.

Today, I'm in the library, letting my fingers run up and down several leather-bound books resting on the bookshelves.

Since I wasn't the biggest fan of the written word, I often just walked around the cozy book filled room randomly grabbing books off the shelves, scanning a random page for anything that would subdue my boredom.

Today, the book that would be subjected to my harsh judgement was a dark red bound book.
On the top it read, 'thieves in law'.

I flipped to a random page, interest piqued.

"Demands a complete submission to criminal life, a rejection of legal employment and all political activities. " My eyes continue to scan the page.

"Your prison, you shall not make."
I continued to read on. 'One must never assist the system in imprisoning them or others in the brotherhood...'

I read on, the book appeared to be about organized crime.

'The eldest among us form clans that keep us in line.  These elders who act as our leaders are distinguished by the red ink tattoo of the Mikkelsen family chest on their lower back.  All none visual representation of this chest has been destroyed, there as to never allow for its replication unless provided access to the marking by an elder and the chosen artist.'
The elders make decisions on whom the Pakhan is to be, when a pakhan is to be ousted and when clans must be absolved or destroyed. '

I skipped ahead a couple of chapters.

' Clans are not to interact with one another unless given explicit permission to by their elders. Each clan has its hierarchy, and these separate entities must not try to abdicate the other without the explicit ousting of one or the other by the elders.
If two clans desire a unity, an intended marriage must be introduced and prepared for the blessing of the elders. Only through marriage can two clans become one.'

Another couple chapters.

'The role of women.' Caught my eye.

'Women have no place in the Bratva, outside their roles as wives, Lovers, sisters, and daughters.  A woman must never be allowed to earn the elder's mantel, nor should they ever be bowed down to as the pakhan. Do not use them as spies, moderators, or leverage. They are to be absent in the midst of elders unless specifically called upon.'