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2 | Vincent Kovak

"𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐨, 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫...𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥, 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞..."

𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐚𝐲

I love watching women cry.

I love watching tears fall down their cheeks whilst on their knees.

It does something to me, it makes me go fucking crazy.

I love being the one to cause it, then to wipe it away with a single flick of my thumb. Lifting their jaw for their watery eyes to meet mine, before kissing their neck and pushing them back onto the bed.

I love watching women submit to me.

But I'm dangerous.

I have a nerve in my brain that makes me do things I shouldn't, things that should never even be running into my head.

I raised my glass of whiskey, gently swirling the ice as my brother paraded before me in different blazers. "Vincent, which one? This colour or this one?"

He displayed two identical shades of white, seeking my opinion. I took a leisurely sip of my drink before sinking into the plush couch. The maid set a table beside me, and I idly scrolled through my phone.

"I think the first one is better, Sir," the tailor chimed in. I briefly glanced up from my phone.

"The second one," I replied. Roman nodded and donned the blazer I had chosen, admiring his reflection in the mirror.

"Thank you for this," Roman expressed his gratitude. I powered off my phone and set it aside.

"For what?"

"For finding me a wife. I heard she's the most beautiful woman in all of Moscow."

"She's my best friend's daughter, Roman," I reminded him, a hint of caution in my tone. "You better treat her right." Roman nodded in agreement.

My brother had always been a hopeless romantic, which was why I had offered him as a potential husband when Steven needed to find his daughter a suitable match. It's also amazing fucking business for me, I sell my drugs and having him as an allie, I could sell it around the whole of Moscow.

Steven and I have been friends for around five years now, he may be ten years or so older than me but we've always had the same mature mindset. That's what created a good business, maturity.

I never had time to play around like a bitch, Roman may have-seeming as he's ten years younger than me. Roman finally decided on a suit, we're going over to the Saint Mansion for dinner and for Roman to meet his wife.

"I can't wait to see her, is she prettier than what I hear?" Roman smiles, looking up at me as I stand from the couch.

"I have no clue, I've never met her." I respond.

"You've never met your best friends daughter?" I shake my head.

"He keeps her hidden from Moscow, apparently." I slide on my blazer before undoing the first three buttons of my shirt. I grab my glass of whiskey and down it before handing it to the maid. I turn to face her, and her eyes were to the ground as I've trained them.

"Why?"

I lift her jaw slightly, blue eyes- I fucking hate the colour blue. It makes me feel sick, utterly disgusted. "You're fired." She shakes her head and I walk away, Roman following after me. "Where's Niko?"