1921 [MODERN IVAR BONELESS]

PROLOGUE

Kattegat 1921.

A thin string of smoke was visible from the smoldering tip of the cigarett that hung loosely between a pair of plump pink lips. Great ocean blue eyes where shadowed from the black fedora that rested on its owners head. Shadows created by the prominent features, high cheekbones and sharp jawline that usually had a new mouth each night that grazed it with sharp teeth and wet kisses. A set of boney yet calloused and inked fingers gripped the white toxic stick almost gracefully, flicking the ashy tip off as the nostrils exhaled a cloud of white smoke. He sucked on tip as his other hand gripped a crystal glass filled with a smaller amount of luxurious amber colored liquid. Soon the burning liquid ran down his throat yet he was used to it. When he had been a younger man the whiskey in his crystal glass had formed tears in his eyes and made him cough. Emptying his glass before slamming it back onto the table, motioning for the bartered in the shabby pub to refill his glass. Without a single word from the man the bartended obeyed, knowing the man well enough to obey his demands, silent or spoken.

The happy pub wasn't crowded, only a few groups of men sitting in their usual booths, some with the company of prostitutes that laughed to loud for his liking. Faint warm light came from the smaller lamps that hung above the tables and the bar. The man lifted his hat slightly, yet not enough to reveal his eyes, before tugging his fingers through his chestnut colored hair that just reached his broad shoulders. He was on the outside looking too well put to together to sit on a pub like the one he was currently occupying, however what his conscious held made him even more than suitable for a pub like that.

"Not like yourself to be here alone Ivar." The barman asked as he with his washcloth in hand cleaned the glasses before hanging them above the bar island. The barman, Alfred, had owned the pub from his father, it was a family owned business. Alfred was a tall, bulky man with a shaved head. His white shirt was slightly dirty, the leather apron he wore hung loose abound his body as his hands worked quickly with the cups. Ivar only let his fingers graze his jawline as he took a drag of his cigarett then putting it out on the ashtray.

"No?" Was all the younger man said in a dark and raspy voice as the smoke bled from his mouth with the word.

"You're always here with your brothers or with a pretty lady on your lap." Alfred said as he hung another now shiny cup by the rest then taking another clean one, making it as shiny. It was his way to make time pass when his customers were pleased and had filled cups in their hands.

"Apparently not Mr. Solomons." Ivar spoke before emptying his glass. Before he could as for another one, his glass was filled and he cleared his throat as he took out his cigarett tin. Another fresh stick was put between his pink plump lips. Alfred's eyes observed the well known tattoos on Ivar's fingers. Silver rings was also decorating his hands. His right ringfinger had a vertical line, I for Ivar and beside it was B, both written messily. On his other hand he had one R and L letter, dedicated to his father. On his left middle finger he had a crown and on his right he had an X. The simple crown was symbolic to his position and the X was their symbol. It was always simple, the symbol of the X wasn't complicated.

"How's Hvitserk? Heard he got out yesterday." Alfred asked yet Ivar only rolled his eyes without the barman noticing under his fedora before emptying his glass. He was very tolerant of alcohol yet he started to feel the familiar warmth inside from the strong rich whiskey.

"Have Elisabeth delivered your child yet?" Ivar asked and changed the subject. The barman noticed and knew it wasn't something to discuss about his brother.

"Not yet, she's due this week." Alfred said and Ivar hummed.

"Yet here you stand with your pregnant wife at home, serving myself and that scum over there booze that won't leave until your throw their almost unconscious bodies outside." Ivar said as he took a deep drag from the toxic stick.

"Some people need to work all hours Ivar to get a decent payment, not everyone bathes in their riches from two day jobs. I can't leave, then how will I support my wife and baby when it comes?" Alfred said as his hands noticeably gripped the cup tighter, almost breaking the glass from disappointment, anger and jealousy.

"You sell the pub to me." Ivar said in a serious voice. Alfred knew Ivar never joked around, everything the man said he meant. He promised to avenge his fathers death, he did. He promised his now dead wife to kill her for sleeping with other men, he did. He did everything without remorse.

"You know I can't do that Ivar." Alfred said and he hung the last cup.

"Why not? I already own everything here in Kattegat accept your pub." Ivar said as he shrugged his shoulders.

"And the Irish down the road with the pretty little blond you've been messing with."

"Ah, the Irish he's a stubborn old man." Ivar said with a brow raised. "And his daughter is a sight for sore eyes, plus very nice fúck." He added bluntly and Alfred only shook his head.

"Still a no." The barman stated.

"You know me Alfred, I will care for it." He added and the barman shook his head.

"I still can't. It was passed onto me and it has been passed down for generations." Alfred said and Ivar only hummed.

"And now you're going to act like the perfect grand-grandson and fulfill your duty to pass it on to your child." Ivar said.

"You're doing the same." Alfred said and Ivar raised his hands.

"I respect good businessmen yet I'm successful in my field. I don't think your ancestors wanted this place to become a cum dump for old fishermen that arrive from Norway. If you were my son I would be disappointed in you." Ivar said and Alfred slammed his fist roughly onto the hard mahogany bar table. Small tears was visible in his eyes which he blinked away quickly as the pub grew quiet. The barman and Ivar knew each other, they were rough with each other yet Ivar sometimes hit sensitive nerves and went too far. Since Ivar was rather private Alfred couldn't get back at him.

"I don't care who you are Ivar, never criticize my business again." Alfred said in a low and hurt voice yet it was filled with anger.

"Think about my offer Mr. Solomons." Ivar said as he took his wooden cane with a golden handle before standing on his feet, the metallic golden foot off his cane rung in their ears when it hit the wooden flooring. His sleek suit clad his body well, his white dresshirt hugging his body and black suspenders visible before he got his long expensive black coat on. "It would be very beneficial for you and your family."

"Shove that offer up your ass Ivar! To inform you I'm actually hiring a barmaid to my pub, I don't need your help." Alfred said and when everyone heard the word barmaid the men started to holler and whistling.

"Finally!" A man yelled excitedly.

"Impressive." Ivar only said in a plat and unimpressed tone. "A barmaid. When is this addition arriving?" He asked.

"Tomorrow." Alfred said and the men cheered again.

"Guess you'll be full then." Ivar said with his back against the barman, walking out from the smoky pub and into the fresh yet chilly Kattegat air. He threw the used cigarette on the ground, pushing the foot of his cane onto it. A car was waiting for him and his chauffeur opened the door for him. When inside he reached for his cigarett tin again, placing yet another cigarette between his lips as the car drove down the road.