First Mission Plan

VINCENZO VOLKOV ;

By five in the morning, I was already up, going through my usual routine before heading downstairs. What I didn’t expect was to find Victoria sprawled out on the couch, fast asleep. She looked almost childlike, curled into herself as if trying to disappear into the cushions.

Her dress, if you could even call it that, had ridden up so high that half of her bare skin was exposed. I paused, narrowing my eyes. What kind of stunt was this?

I moved toward her slowly, making sure not to wake her—though I wasn’t sure why I cared. I tugged the dress down, covering her with a blanket. Then I sat down on the nearby couch, watching her.

The thought crossed my mind—I could end her right now. Strangle her without a sound, and no one would question it. No one would dare. Except, maybe, Nikolai.

"Wake up!" I barked, launching a slipper straight at her head. She groaned and stirred, yawning loudly as she stretched out like she didn’t have a care in the world.

A small knife tumbled from under her pillow, and I scoffed. A kitchen knife? Really? Did she think that would actually stop me if I wanted to kill her? The thought was laughable.

“If I get in that car and leave, just know you’ll be stranded here. No money, no supplies—nothing,” I said, stuffing my hands into my pockets, my voice colder than the morning air. Without waiting for her response, I turned to walk away.

Behind me, I heard a soft growl, then the unmistakable sound of someone dragging themselves out of the living room. She finally emerged, looking half-dead.

“Isn’t it too early for this?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes like a lazy cat waking up from a nap. She yawned, stretching dramatically, and I swear my patience thinned to a thread. “I’m really not a morning person,” she muttered, opening the car door and slumping into the passenger seat with zero energy.

I rolled my eyes as I slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The villa disappeared in the rearview mirror as I sped up, but it didn’t take long before she dozed off, her head lolling against the window. Typical.

A few minutes in, I noticed her slipping further. Before I could react, she toppled sideways and, in the most unfortunate turn of events, her head landed straight in my lap.

I slammed the brakes, pulling the car over to the side with a sharp hiss of frustration. "Unbelievable."

She stirred, mumbling something incoherent as I sat there, every muscle in my body stiff with annoyance. Reaching over, I grabbed the seatbelt and secured her properly, pulling it tight across her body. She blinked, barely conscious, but I wasn’t in the mood for conversation.

"You’re a hazard even when you sleep," I muttered under my breath before pulling back onto the road. I glanced over occasionally, her face now peaceful, and sighed. She was lucky I had a shred of patience left.

Hours on the road, the car ate up the miles at an unforgiving speed, the asphalt blurring beneath me. At last, the towering iron gates of ‘Blackwood Estate’ loomed ahead, opening to the sprawling estate that stretched over hundreds of acres. Dense forests flanked the driveway, a long, winding path leading to the mansion—a cold, imposing structure with high windows and stone walls that stood against the Russian landscape like a fortress. The workers were the only other souls on the property, all discreet and well-trained, blending into the background of my isolated world.

As I arrived at the mansion, a guard swiftly opened the door, and I stepped out into the crisp morning air. The estate was fortified with layers of security—guards stationed at every corner, vigilant dogs patrolling the grounds, and an array of cameras watching every move, a fortress befitting my family’s reputation.

“Good morning, Don,” the guard greeted, his tone respectful yet distant. I offered a brief nod, but as I walked a few paces forward, a nagging thought hit me—I had a precious burden still asleep in the car.

“Should I fetch the lady?” the guard asked, but I shook my head firmly.

“No, she’s mine.” I turned back to the car, opened the door, and gently lifted her into my arms.

She stirred slightly, her lips parting as she instinctively wrapped her hands around my neck, oblivious to the fact that she was clinging to me. How could this fool not realize she was nestled against my chest?

She felt weightless as I carried her inside, and I moved with purpose, my eyes scanning the familiar surroundings. The maids and guards all lowered their heads in deference; it was a strict rule that no one should ever gaze upon my face.

To do so was not just a breach of protocol—it was a sin that could cost them their lives.

I pushed open the door to my room and laid her down gently on the bed, covering her with a soft blanket.

Sleeping beauty, or perhaps a sleeping monster—either way, she was mine now.

I left the room and headed toward my office. How long has it been? Months? A year? Damn the Volkov family for ruining my life.

They wanted me to step into the Mafia business? Fine. I’d show them what I was capable of. I would become a force they had to reckon with, and they would worship me for it.

“Don Vee, you’re back!” My assistant’s voice broke through my thoughts as he rushed to catch up with me. I didn’t need to look; I recognized Vernom by his voice and quick footsteps.

“Boss!” he said as I entered the office. “Welcome back!”

I took a seat, my mind racing with thoughts of my first mission. I would go after the family’s enemies—the ones they had targeted before, but couldn't get.

They thought they could push me into their world, but I was ready to become the devil they never expected.

I leaned back in my chair, considering my next move. “Do you know about the Crimson Syndicate?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of them,” Vernom replied, his eyes widening slightly.

“That’s our next target,” I said, my voice steady.

Vernom’s expression shifted, a mix of surprise and excitement. “You’re serious?”

“Absolutely.”