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Chapter XXXVI: Foundation
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2020-12-08 18:09:42The room was stifled by the tension in the air, the men seated on both sides of the table with the head of the table occupied by the Regnante Mafia Boss. The Don sat with his elbows on the mahogany table, his finger stapled before him and his gaze fixated on the wall opposite, completely deaf to the ruckus surrounding him.
All of his allies had gathered together and organized this meeting in an effort to understand what to do next. The Romanov’s confirmation for war followed by the retraction of the statement gave them no sense of ease, made them all on edge instead; they had no idea if it were a ploy to get them to lower their guard, or if it was all just some sort of mistake. Then there was the fact that the underworld was now aware of the existence of Salvatore Regnante’s children, both of them hav
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Rebuilding the Russian Mafia from square one allowed Aleksander to occupy himself. Create elaborate plans and take care of negotiations, and unofficially become the Pakhan, given how Nikolai was in no state to be taking care of matters. His mind numbed with medication and painkillers and his body deteriorating. The stroke he had from Salvatore’s carnage had left him completely bedridden, and Aleksander could not bring himself to feel sympathy for the man. Instead, the heir set out on making Nikolai’s Bratva completely his.
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The snow scrunched under foot, the white blanket a glaring contrast to the black of the shoes worn by the person. A person made their way across the path with a fur ushanka covering their head and their body hidden by the thick fur coat that was draped over their shoulder, fluttering behind him.Their destination was an obvious one: the bench a top the hill.Making his way up the path, they halted to find a feeble old man huddled in the corner of the bench, their coat weighing heavy on his weak shoulders as tremors passed through his already thin figure. A walking cane grasped between his legs.“Thought I’d find you here,” Aleksander spoke with his hands in his coats pockets, and settled on the other side of the bench. “Papa,”Nikolai’s skin was ashen with his thick mop of hair reduced
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Aleksander cracked his knuckles while his eyes wracked over the three suits laud out before him. His eyes taking in every seam of each one, pairing each with possible shirts and ties. Making nine possible combinations for wear then groaning at the fact that he wouldn’t decide which was best suited.Should he go for a traditional white button down or opt for a different color? Tie? No tie? Two piece? Or maybe three piece? Monochrome or should he mix and match?Grunting at his own indecisiveness he grabbed all three of them and tried on every possible combination, deciding that seeing them would allow him to choose better.When he stepped out dressed in the fourth combination, his wife turned around in the middle of getting dressed and giggled at her husband, shaking her head at his antics.“We’re invited for coffee, babe, I doubt a suit is the decoru
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The snow scrunched under foot, the white blanket a glaring contrast to the black of the shoes worn by the person. A person made their way across the path with a fur ushanka covering their head and their body hidden by the thick fur coat that was draped over their shoulder, fluttering behind him.Their destination was an obvious one: the bench a top the hill.Making his way up the path, they halted to find a feeble old man huddled in the corner of the bench, their coat weighing heavy on his weak shoulders as tremors passed through his already thin figure. A walking cane grasped between his legs.“Thought I’d find you here,” Aleksander spoke with his hands in his coats pockets, and settled on the other side of the bench. “Papa,”Nikolai’s skin was ashen with his thick mop of hair reduced
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Aleksander stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. He knew every last-minute crack by heart. He made minute cracks on its clean surface. He even made maps out of the ceiling, gone exploring their terrains and mountains and rivers, having staggered across a wild lion here and a boar there. He even found faces in it, faces, and animals, and mathematical equations. He had exhausted every possibility of keeping his mind occupied without the need to move from his current position.Winter had hit harder in Russia. One of the worst times to be outside – or so he was told – not that he had any plans of venturing into that blizzard. He couldn’t bring himself to move. Couldn’t bring himself to feel anything other than that nauseating guilt for having killed his nephew and niece.The thought of them sending a sharp pain shooting through his side where Salvator
Assigned to Her Chapter XXXVI: Foundation
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Aleksander swiped his hand at the fogged up mirror, staring back at his reflection as he pushed back his wet tresses and scratched at his jaw, realizing he needed to shave at the prickly feel against his palm. A knock sounding on the door outside had him look over his shoulder before stepping out of the washroom, pulling open the door to find Fio in front of him. The guard turned and pulled out a khaki envelope from the fold of his coat, handing it to the man before him once the door closed behind him. Taking it, Aleksander pulled open the flap, pulling out the pages and skimming through the contents while Fio busied himself in dressing the wound on the heir’s shoulder. Quickly getting dressed, Aleksander stepped o
