Vladislav Vuković.
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I leaned back against the leather seat, my fingers drumming a restless rhythm against the steering wheel. The winter air was biting, numbing the world outside the windows of my car. The city was encrusted in layers of shimmering white, a deceptive cover for the sins buried beneath. I stared out into the swirling snow, but my mind was trapped in the past few hours—an unexpected raid on my latest shipment. Anger bubbled within me, and with it, a haunting suspicion.
I am Vladislav Vuković, the leader of the Vuković family, the oldest and strongest of the five ruling crime families in this city—a fact I’ve never let anyone forget.
In a world governed by loyalty and betrayal, five families ruled the shadows of Russia: the Vuković, Romanova, Vasiliev, Olezka, and Igor. My family, the Vuković, was the oldest and strongest, holding sway over the others. For years, I took pride in being the master of my fate, exercising control, and ensuring the safety of my empire. I had claws that wrapped around the throats of our rivals and fingers that deftly maneuvered through alliances, but now I was losing my grip.
I sat in my black sedan, the engine rumbling like an angry beast, with heavy thoughts clouding my mind as I waited for my second in command. The night fog swirled outside the tinted windows, shrouding the moon's pale face, just as betrayal had shrouded my thoughts. My reflection stared back at me—heavy brows, sharp cheekbones, and a deep scowl that told tales of the ruthless world I commanded as the leader of the Vuković family, Russia's oldest and most respected family.
There are four crime families in Russia after mine.
Romanova, Vasiliev, Olezka, Igor.
The ruthless Romanovas were perhaps our closest rival. Victor, their head, commanded with a brutality I respected but did not fear. His wife, Yelena, stood beside him like a queen by a tyrant's side, and their children, Maxim and Katrina, were talented in manipulation and volatile. Maxim was the wild card—an unpredictable variable that could turn a strategy upside down and Katrina a manipulating bitch. A vale woman I hate with my everything and my fiancé.
Lucky me.
The Vasiliev, with Mikhail as their patriarch, were impulsive, relying on bravado over strategy. Their family was infamous for erratic decisions that often led to chaos. Mikhail's wife Zenovia was a force of nature, fierce and cunning, while their sons, Artom and Ivan, seemed wedged between their father's audacity and their mother’s calculated intelligence.
The Olezka family, oh, they were the true wildcards of this game. Headed by Nikolay, they thrived on chaos, each member well aware of their penchant for brinkmanship. His wife, Katia, was almost a ghost, a silent partner in the troubled waters they swam. Their children—Dorofey, Sergey, and Alisa—were wild, reckless spirits capable of inciting a firestorm without a moment’s thought.
And then, of course, there was the Igor family, led by Velerye, a man whose negotiation skills were legendary. That’s why Dimitri was my close friend and my second in command, perched on the edge of loyalty and ambition—the Igor blood ran deep, but he bore my trust like a badge of honor. His thoughts were unknown to me, but I understood that his motivations straddled the line of loyalty and a desire to carve a name outside of his family’s shadow.
The families—the Romanova, the Vasiliev, the Olezka, and ours—had coexisted for years, bound by an unspoken agreement to keep the peace while striving for power.
They are all smiling and pleasant in front of me but ready to stab in the back as soon as you turn your back on them expact The Igor because they are the closest to my family because Velerye was my father's right hand in his time, and now Dimitri is in his father's place.
My family, Vuković, had ruled for generations, strong as the iron grip I held. The others were dangerous players, each unique but equally lethal, and today I get the call from the wearhouse. The shipment that had arrived earlier that day was supposed to be our turning point. A rare group of high-grade arms, smuggled through layers of shadowy channels from Eastern Europe, intended to solidify our dominance. But now they were gone, intercepted before they could reach our warehouse—a calculated heist that left only confusion and rage in its wake. Who had the audacity to undermine me?
Whoever had the audacity to cross me was playing a dangerous game. And as I zeroed in on the faces of the enemy, I felt an uneasy tug at my gut. My instincts were telling me this act of betrayal came from someone close to me—someone from the three families.
“Vladislav,” Dimitri said, breaking the heavy silence as he slid into the passenger seat, his phone still warm from a recent call. I start the car and start driving.
We drove through the winding streets of Moscow, the glow of neon signs illuminating the dark corners of a city that thrived on secrets. Each pulse was a reminder of the darkness that lingered just out of sight. I stared out into the night, lost in thought, my mind drifting over memories and suspicions that clawed at the back of my consciousness.
“Did you hear about the raid?” I asked, tone clipped, simmering with barely contained fury.
His expression remained impassive, but his jaw tightened ever so slightly. “Yes. We need to find out who’s behind it. It wasn’t some random stray. It was clean and coordinated. Someone had inside info.”
I gripped the wheel harder, knuckles white. “What concerns me, Dimitri, is that it could be one of our own.”
He tilted his head slightly, impossibly calm. “You don’t think that I would look the other way?”
I wanted to scream. “I don’t think anyone can look free from suspicion right now! The way things are—”
“Vladislav, you are letting paranoia cloud your judgment. The families can't rick it. The Romanova won't do in case you will change your mind with the engagement. Vasiliev and Olezka are too scared to go against you. But they would definitely love to see you falter.” His voice was steady, but I could hear the sharp edge beneath his words. He was trying to rein in my thoughts, but shadows loomed larger than reality.
I tore my gaze from the snowstorm outside and turned to face him. “Dimitri, every one of those families has their own ambitions. But what if it's not just them? What if it's inside someone from our own men?”
His eyes narrowed, a flicker of realization crossing his face. “Do you suspect someone?”
“I can’t ignore the signs. The timing of the raid coincided perfectly with our upcoming shipments; the families can't know it if they don't have any spies inside. Information about our operations shouldn’t be out there. And if it is, someone must have leaked it.”
“That would mean betrayal,” he said, frowning, processing the implications of my words.
The air between us thickened with dense tension. I leaned back, rubbing my temples, struggling with the overwhelming weight of my thoughts. The inner workings of my mind were a maze; the path twisted with uncertainty.
“We need to dig deeper. Begin with the warehouses, those who have had access to the information; keep eyes on them. I wanted to know everything what they do, who they meet, even what they eat.”
Dimitri nodded, already pulling out his phone to start making calls. I watched him; every detail magnified in my frantic mind. Dim lighting cast shadows across his face, deepening the lines of concern on his forehead.
