RUTHLESS AND VICIOUS

Romanov's P.O.V

I cleaned the sweat from my brow, hitting the punching bag in front of me for the thousandth time in the past hour with enough fury to kill an elephant bare handed.

Perfidy is intolerable in my world, stealing from the emperor is a death sentence and Nikolai just signed his certificate. I hate having to end one of my own men, but it's unacceptable to allow betrayal to happen and go scot free. I will listen to his pleas but there is nothing that can explain why he tried to sell us out to the enemies after everything the mafia had done for him.

"Pakhan. On u nas na sklade, kogda ty budesh' gotov." "Boss, we have him in the warehouse when you're ready." My boys had been letting him stew for hours after they visited him on my orders outside his home with a warning shakedown to go back and change the story he told the other squad. He tried to run when I returned home, so now he's been picked up to be dealt with, wasting not only my trust, but also my time.

I nod, leaving my fists wrapped since I might be using them on his face if I don't empty the chambers of my bullet into his face first blowing his fucking brains out.

I crack my neck, leaving my shirt off because I want him to know that asides being the king and the head of the Crux mafia, I am the baddest motherfucker he will ever meet and probably the last person he would see before he takes his last breath. He had known that and still crossed me, so he has to be insane, a stupid asshole or has iron balls—I might even allow him a few last wishes and a short prayer. I slid on a torn and blood stained singlet with sunglasses and I hopped on my bike. The engine sprung to life after a few twist of the keys in the ignition and I sped to the abandoned warehouse, the engine humming beneath me. sometimes ago, the hum of my power bike used to make me calm and happy in some way but today not even my favorite thing in the world can cool the anger brimming inside of me.

The second I step into the room, the acidic stench of piss hit my nostrils and I slowly approached the battered motherfucker strapped to a chair. I felt no ounce of compassion for him as I stood before him, my fingers playing over a tray of blade and sharp objects arranged on the bench close to me.

"Tebe izvestno, YA nenavizhu zapakh chelovecheskoy krysy, nezavisimo ot togo, kogda, gde i skol'ko seychas vremeni. (You know, I hate the scent of human rats, no matter when or where or what time it is."). I ran my hand across the man's head, feeling how sweaty and disgusting it actually was.

"Net, oni ne pakhnut na samom dele parazitami ili gryzunami. Net, parazitov na samom dele legko ubit', I ya ne vozrazhayu protiv nikh. Ne togda, kogda oni ubirayut musor. Vy vidite veshchi ob etom gryzune, ikh zuby postoyanno rastut. Neobkhodimost' perezhevyvat' svoy put' cherez veshchi." ("No, they do not smell like actual vermin or rodent. No, they are relatively and actually easy to kill, and I do not mind them. not when they are cleaning up the trash. You see the things about these rodents, they teeth are constantly growing. Needing to claw they way through things)."

"pozhaluysta, master serebro…" (Please, master silver)

"Ty znayesh', chto ya lyublyu v nastoyashchikh krysakh? Oni mogut skazat' vam, kogda nadvigayutsya opredelennyye bedstviya. Oni bukval'no ubegayut ot lyubogo priznaka opasnosti. " ("you know what I love about actual rats? They can tell you when certain disasters are looming. They will literally scamper away from any sign of danger)." I didn't know if that was accurate or not. I'd never taken the time to learn about rats or watch them. if I saw them, I killed them, simple as that. Only rodents got an easier death than most human rats who betrayed me. I tutted, "ty znayesh' chto Nikolay, ty menya tak razocharovyvayesh." (You know what Nikolai, you are such a disappointment to me."

Nikolai whimpered as I ran the blade across the front of his mouth.

"vysun' yazyk." (Stick out your tongue)." I ordered.

" Kakiye? Zachem?" ("What? Why?)"

"vysun' svoy grebanyy yazyk!" (Stick out your fucking tongue!)

I didn't need to ask a third time. Nikolai, slobbering and sobbing, stuck out his tongue and without a fucking care; I slid the blade across it, slicing it off in one sharp swipe. Screams filled the room, and I stepped back as blood began to soak down Nikolai's body. I stared grimly down at the single piece of human flesh that mostly got people in trouble.

"Vy dolzhny blagodarit' menya, etot yazyk pryamo zdes' on dostavil vam nepriyatnosti, I ya razobralsya s nim, izbavilsya ot nego, vam bol'she ne nuzhno bespokoit'sya ob etom." ("You should be thanking me, this tongue right here, it got you in trouble and I have dealt with it, gotten rid of it. you don't have to worry about it anymore.")

The screams continued to fill the empty and abandoned warehouse, and I stuck the severed tongue into a pouch. It would help serve as a lesson to others. Not that Nikolai would ever be walking out this warehouse alive. Never.

No rat had ever left my company alive, unless he wanted to send a message and then when their job was done. I took care of them in any of several different ways.

Nikolai was of no use to me. I made sure all my men were dispensable. He wasn't worth anything, wasn't worth making the effort to send him out into the world. He was a piece of shit as far as the crux mafia was concerned. The moment he decided to go and help the other mafia, it had cemented Nikolai's death sentence. Naturally this dirty job was left for my henchmen, my right-hand man especially but I had to teach a lesson to everyone who had the same thing in mind—to cheat or sell out the crux mafia to the enemies. It was a good job, I had some people on the Moscow police force who had happened to see him going into enemy territory. No that wasn't acceptable.

"You know, I hate to state the obvious, but this didn't have to happen."

Staring into Nikola's soon-to-be-dead eyes, I waited as Nikolai started to scream, but without his tongue it sounded more like a gurgle. I plunged the blade again into his left knee and twisted it, a satisfying tearing sound filled the air. No one dear to mess with Master Silver.

I tutted, "Prodolzhay Krichat. Gde ty seychas so mnoy, on Zabroshen. U mesta dazhe net nazvaniya. Na gugl kartakh tozhe net. Eto nigde v seredine nigde. " ("Keep on screaming. Where you are right now with me, it's abandoned. The place doesn't even have a name. Nor is it on the Google maps. It's nowhere in the middle of nowhere.")

"Nikolay, kakoye-to vremya ty byl khoroshim boytsom, no, kak I mnogiye drugiye soldaty, ty stal slishkom zhadnym, i iz-za etogo ty popadayesh'v bedu. Tak mnogo problem. YA znayu, chto ty znayesh', chto ne uydesh' otsyuda zhivym. YA ni za chto ne mogu etogo dopustit'."

("Now Nikolai, you were a fine little fighter for a while, but like many other soldiers, you got way too greedy, and because of that, you're heading into trouble. So much trouble. I know that you do know you are not leaving here alive. There's no way I can make that happen.") I sat back down on the bench, straddling it.

"Vy poshli k vragam, Z'ver Rossil, I ya ne mogu etogo. Mne ne nravatsya istorii, kotoryye ty I'm rasskazyval. Ty rassakazal immoy plans. Moya mafiya, Moya organizatisiya."

("You went to the enemies, the beast of Russia, and I can't have that. I don't like the stories you told them. You told them my plans. My mafia, my organization. Even the schedule of my brother. I am not going to deny that he is a fucking idiot, and there are times I swear how he is not my blood, but we are fucking twins and it's my duty to keep him protected. And how you know his schedule is still a fucking shock to me, he is not even in Russia at the moment. Anyways, now, I am clearing up your mess, the mess you made.")

Nikolai started to cry and wail.

Nikolai's wife and two kids would be returning home to find a pile of cash, a suicidal note and a chance at a life without being beaten black and blue every damn day, just like the life I made sure my brother had and still has. Away from this bloodshed, violence and gore. A chance at happily ever after, that is if that concept is even fucking real. It's not meant for me, I know this and I have accepted it but I swear I will bring down anyone with me who dares to hurt the things I care about.

I didn't like leaving loose ends. In my twenty years of being the crux mafia's leader, I had learnt many valuable lessons. Never show your weakness to anyone, even your family included, never leave loose ends and never, ever, allow someone to believe you have morals or principles.

Morals.

What the fuck were they?

What the fuck do principles mean?

I didn't have them, had long since lived without them.

Lucky for me, I didn't miss them. They had all died away a long time ago. Long before I became mafia leader at the tender age of fifteen.

Holding the blade that I had sliced Nikolai's tongue off with, I stared at the man who had threatened the mafia, my family and had dared to try and hurt me. Without feeling any remorse or guilt, I plunged the blade into the man's neck and watched. I held Nikolai's head up by his hair, waiting, making sure with every passing second that he was dying. Finally, I severed his head from his neck and I dumped it into the big pouch containing his tongue.

Death was such an enthralling splendor to see. First there was the denial. The thought of not wanting to die or give up on survival. Then there was the panic. The hope of getting away. The fear and need to escape, to get away as far as possible. The fight or flight response had always captivated me.

Then of course, comes the acceptance, the will to live draining out of their body, not allowing them fight a minute longer. The life drains away with no help or no will to stop it and then there is eternal peace or agony. I believed in the theory of heaven and hell and I am so damned convinced that Nikolai was spending eternity in fucking hell.

Pulling the blade out of the severed head, I wiped it on a piece of cloth before walking over to the sink. I was covered in human blood and it irritated me and pissed me off.

The water ran over my hands and I watched it disappear down the drain. Once they were clean, I washed my face too and dried the sink till it was squeaky clean.

I dialed up Amilakhvari, whose nickname was graveyard, the underboss, to call the spring cleaning crew.

"Tell them I want him cremated and his ashes brought to me." I instructed over the phone and ended the call.

My cell phone went off again, but I was in no mood to deal with anyone else. Right after a kill, the only thing I needed was a sopping wet pussy wrapped around my cock, unattached sex with one of the whores the organization provided, one of the privileges of the being leader was that I got to select my own pussy. I stepped out from the warehouse, pouch slung over my shoulders and I jumped my power bike back to the Compound.

Hours later, I was seated irritated on the bar stool in a rundown club named Porky, I had made sure I selected a bar at least three towns away from my town so as to avoid being recognized, I needed my privacy. Having switched my torn singlet for a leather jacket I, hadn't bothered buttoning up the jacket, so my shirtless toned abs and tattoos was laid out for whoever was interested to gawk at. And there were many interested gawks. But I made sure none of them grew the balls to come up to me by wearing the deepest scowl that made me look even more badass and formidable than I naturally look, paired with my muscle and tats, I must seem as a criminal, which frankly I am. My eyes roamed the entire club and my lips turned down in a disgusted sneer, no woman was good enough for Romanov.

I had gone back to the Compound after the kill and handed the pouch to the Amilakhvari who quickly assembled everyone. He had emptied the contents of the pouch on the poker table and everyone around had gasped. I took the poker stick and play a few rounds with it, I noticed some of my men grunting while some looked away and puked. I laughed then I slammed my hand across the hard table, "That's what happens to those who fuck with the crux mafia!"

They all scurried around and nodded.

"Am I clear?!" I yelled at all of them and they echoed back, "Yes, master silver."

I wiggled my finger in the air and they all dispersed and Amilakhvari put the dismembered body parts back in the pouch and walked away from the room. I know that will serve as a warning to all of them and to any of them who had ideas of….

"I will have what he is having." A raspy feminine voice said in a distinct Russian accent as she settled on the stool beside me, pulling me from my train of thoughts and I whipped my head up from swirling my glass of Black Russian to look at the one who had the balls to approach me.

I caught a whiff of her smell, it wasn't the flower scented fragrance associated with most women instead she smelled like moist earth and grasses mixed with her personal body odor and sweat. She hasn't still turned on her bar stool to provide me with a full view so instead I studied her side profile. Her features were sharp and her chin had a pointed edge to it, her lips thin and painted a slutty red color coupled with her striking nose and high cheekbones, she looked a little manly but gorgeous still, the word handsome best described her. And her dyed blonde hair was trimmed neatly to her shoulders, exposing her slim neck. She had tattoos drawn on her arm, big stars trickling down to tiny ones. She would have passed for totally calm and collected but the tumult vein beating rapidly in her neck gave her away. I shrugged my thick shoulders and focused back on my drink.

To my surprise, she reached over my arm into my drink and swirling her little finger in my drink. She picked up one of the ice cubes and popped it into her mouth, wrapping those thin cherry red lips around the end of the cube. I grunted in slight irritation, no one dared to do this back at the compound, she would get a bullet to the skull but I had wanted anonymity and this is what I asked for. I looked at her and this time she turned fully on her stool and gazed at me, still sucking on the ice cube. The short silk red gown she wore had a low cut running down her breast. She bent her shoulders slightly and provided me with a view of her ample cleavage, my body grudgingly responded and my cock hardened a little in the tight ripped jeans I wore. I was aroused not because of her body but because of the guts she had.

She dropped the cube back in my drink just as the bartender slid hers over the counter and she brought the glass to her mouth, taking a long sip and looking at me flirtingly over the rim of the glass. I grabbed mine too and took a sip, not minding that she just dropped the cube from her mouth into it. In fact, that little act got me interested in her and I was fully hard at the moment.

I dropped my drink back on the table with a clink and we both stared at each other, and then my eyes caught something on her neck and I slowly brought my hand to it, "that's a bruise you got there."

I brought my hand back down and looked into her green eyes, waiting for an explanation, not that I really cared for any and she carelessly replied, "I deserved them, the shits that I get into." She rasped and then paused. She brought her hand to my chest and pushed open my jacket, her finger nudged a scar, "A bullet wound? You must have done something really awful to deserve that kevlar."

'You have no idea.' I smirked thoughtfully and settled on, "I made some bad choices," As my reply.

She also smirked, "We all make bad choices."

The tension between us could be slit with a blade as we both continued to stare at each other and then she whispered with a small smile, "I've got—uh—a to-do list, step one—get married."

I frowned, "I've tried that."

She gave a lopsided smile, "yeah, but you fucked around her back, didn't you?"

"Actually, it was the other way round."

She tutted, "Don't cry, we're all ducks." I raised a brow in question. "We all push away the ones who love us."

I chuckled and looked away from her, she was sassy and humorous.

"So how is that working for you, seems a little cold, uh?" I asked.

She raised a perfectly arched brow.

"Getting married that is."

She smiled and slid her eyes away down to where our hands were carefully placed meters away from each other. She closed the distance and grabbed my fingers and placed it on the supple flesh beneath her black bra.

She winked, "that's not so cold, is it? Not to touch anyway."

The flesh beneath my jeans was hot and rock hard and I silently hissed a breath. I ticked my uninhibited reaction to the fact that I hadn't had any pussy for three months. The braless whores at the compound all disgusted me and I couldn't make myself touch them but this strange woman did strange things to my usually controlled body and I wanted to fuck her.

"Let's go check a to-do off my list." With that, she slid off the stool and slowly sauntered off to the bathroom at the back of the bar. Few seconds, I followed after her, shucking off my jacket before I pushed open the door. I entered into the sparse bath just as she exited one of the stalls and walked in front of the mirror, she washed her hands in the sterile sink as she fluffed her hair about and checked her reflection. I stood in the corner, ankles crossed, staring at her. My eyes caught the sordid obscenities that were written on the wall and the old cream painting which was already peeling off. When she seemed satisfied with her reflection, she smirked and turned to face me. I lifted off the wall I reclined against and stalked towards her, crowding her against the wall. She brought her lips close to mine but I turned away and her kiss landed clumsily on my jaw. It was a rule of mine not to lock lips with a stranger. She pushed me off and we switched positions, me against the wall now. Then she slid down to her knees and made short work of the buckles of my belt and removed it from the loops in one pull. She unbuttoned my jeans and tugged them off to my knees. I always went commando so my huge cock sprang free and she let out an involuntary gasp. I was used to that reaction from women if they got to see my twelve inch cock. She didn't bother with foreplay as she swallowed half my length in one thrust. A soft hiss escaped my tightly clenched teeth and I began to move between her thin lips. She continued to suck me off and massage my balls and my orgasm threatened to explode. I didn't want to cum in her mouth. I pulled her by the hair to her feet and she wrapped her legs around me. i dangled a condom I had taken out from my pocket in front of her eyes and she took it from me and sheathed my swollen cock with it. Tearing off her panties, I plunged into her in one deep thrust and we both moaned as we pressed our head together. She wasn't too tight or too loose, she was the perfect combination of tight and loose. Her walls pulled me in deeper and I began to thrust against her. I wasn't going to fucking last, it's been awhile, so I brought my hand to her clit and I rubbed fast in tiny circles.

She moaned deliriously, "Fucking hell, I am going to come."

I urged her on, "Yeah that's it. Give me that juice."

She cried out as her pussy clamped around me as she orgasm pushing me to my own climax. I clenched my teeth and groaned into her hair as my seed poured into the nylon sheathing us.

She unwrapped her legs from my waist and slithered off my body. She strolled to the mirror again and reapplied her lipstick. I shrugged and dressed back up. I was almost out of the door when I remembered what I wanted to ask her.

"What's your name?" I asked.

She glanced at me with a sneer and finally shrugged, "Galina."

Galina. Galina. That name was fucking familiar but how many Galina's were in Russia. I nodded and made to leave, "what did we check off your to-do list?" I asked again.

She didn't look away from the mirror as she smirked, "Fuck a loser."

I chuckled humorlessly. Damn, that was a hot blow and I stormed out of the bathroom back into the club and then onto the streets. As my power bike zoomed on the tarred road, her last words kept ringing in my brain and I was in a foul mood. I should have popped a bullet into her running mouth but I would have drawn attention to myself.

Such a bitch she was.