"Where have you been?" Markov asked, his Russian accent as thick as mine when I got angry.

"Where do you think? Hunting down our hacker," I stated slowly. I was all too aware of Peach's hand on my chest, playing nervously with the first closed button just below my pectorals. Her actions were distracting.

"And how has it gone? Is she dead? The little suka threatened our Bratva!" he snapped.

My jaw tightened and I resisted the urge to tell my uncle not to refer to Peach as a bitch but we were here on a mission.

"Yes, she's dead," I confirmed, rubbing my thumb on Peach's skin, hoping to reassure her incase her mind wondered to the time when her death had been a sole purpose.

"Khoroshiye," Markov nodded happily. "I already ordered us food."

My uncle might have been a pain in the zad but he knew this restaurant and he knew me enough to know I'd like to try something new whenever I came here.

"Tell me Markov," I begun, taking a drag from my cigar and handing it to Peach just to take her attention off my button. "Have you encountered a hacker like the one that attacked headquarters."

"No," he said and rubbed a hand over his balding blonde hair. "She was a problem but you have controlled her. That is good. You've done well for a Don, Viktor."

"I don't need your praise uncle. I'm aware," I stated cockily but on the inside, my chest swelled at the fact that I was doing something right.

Then I remembered why I was here. Markov might be trying to kill me.

My uncle was too busy chuckling. "Your father would've given the same answer. Cocky bastards the both of you are."

"Like father like son. I've heard the saying," I deadpanned, not wishing to talk of my predecessor.

Markov grunted. "Nickolai saw something in you boy. Why do you think he left you the Bratva?"

My teeth grounded on each other. "He didn't leave me the Bratva Markov!" I snapped. "He died with Slavik, leaving me as the only option."

Sensing my distress, Peach put a hand over my muscled stomach and rubbed up and down rhythmically. I glanced down at her and she gave me a soft look that said 'keep your shit together. I know this hurts but don't mess up'. Or at least that's what I got from her.

When I caught my uncle's eye again, he watched Peach with the same distaste he had given every other woman I came to these meetings with. The difference was those women were used to drown my problems. Lust was a better emotion to feel than uncertainty and grief. Peach was different. I didn't want him looking at her like she was nothing but an open circuit ready to be plugged but I couldn't say anything for the sake of the mission. Peach calmed me still, her rubbing growing slower and applying more pressure to keep me distracted. My blood rushed to an area it was not needed and I tried to keep my emotions under control.

My uncle sighed with disgust but continued what he wanted to tell me. "Slavik was never going to inherit the Bratva."

"What do you mean?" I asked my uncle. His words made no sense. "Slavik was the eldest. He had the most potential. He often trained with father. Wherever he went, Slavik followed. Deals, trades, meetings and even the mafia convention where it was strictly Don, Dona and consigliere but even the latter were rare."

Markov sighed. "I promised not to tell your father this but its best you hear it from me. Your father was handing the Bratva to you. Not Slavik. Your brother was too uncontrolled to be a good Don. All he ever wanted was war with other groups. Ultimate control over all drug trades and cartels in the world."

I shook my head. "That's impossible. And stupid."

Markov nodded. "Yet your brother still perused a way to get rid of everyone starting with the Martinelli Familia and the Yakuza."

"The fuck?" I exclaimed with a frown.

Vittore and Dalia Martinelli had been good friends and allies of my father and the Bratva in general. Their mafia was on a whole other level of organisation and the Yakuza was not a group to mess with. They had too many secrets folded into each other, working with very powerful people and being the only crime syndicate operating in Japan, China, North and South Korea. They owned all that and no other mafia tried to cross them. They were like the boogyman of crime organisations. A boogeyman we had an acceptable relationship with.

"Believe it," my uncle stated and stopped talking when our food came. A steaming plate of steak was placed in front of me and some sort of meat stew for my uncle.

He didn't order anything for Peach and didn't make a move to try to get an order for her. Knowing it would be out of character for me to do something, I sat up, took the small bud of a cigar from Peach and placed it on the ash tray. I leaned down close to her ear, whispering when Markov wasn't looking.

"Eat to your fill."

"And you?" she asked immediately.

"Just eat Peach. If I want something, I'll send for it."

Not sure how she could defy me in my uncle's presence, Peach picked up and knife and fork, slowly cutting up the steak.

"I hope you don't mind I told them to just bring the main corse," my uncle said over a full mouth of food.

"As long as they bring desert," I voiced and just to mess with Peach, I slowly and softly traced my fingertips up and down her bare back, causing her movements to halt. "Wouldn't you like some dessert, baby?"

At the question, Peach turned to give me a look, her eyes wide and confused. I could hear her shout 'what the fuck, Viktor' in my head. I leaned in, my hand laying flat on the bronze skin exposed on her back, moving in slow sensational circles. Warmth radiated from my skin into hers and everywhere my fingers touched had an electric feeling that I enjoyed.

"You haven't answered my question, malyshka," I teased. "Dessert."

To get me off her case, she nodded.

"I prefer verbal answers," I demanded.

"Yes," she said in a sweet tone and I knew by the secret glare she sent me, I was in for hell.

"Yes who?" I prodded, letting her think of what title she had to add me. I almost laughed at the panicked expression on her face, demanding me to stop. I just smirked darkly at her.

"Yes who?" I repeated feigning annoyance. "Are you scared of the big men around you? It's okay baby. They won't bite. Just answer my question."

Peach's heel found home on my shin under the table but a sweet smile pulled on her face.

"Yes snookums," she chirped. Across the table from us, my uncle slightly chocked on his food. I couldn't help but chuckle under my breath as Peach lightly shoved me with her shoulder. Smart woman.

"What were you saying about Slavik, uncle?" I called out to him, changing the subject.

My uncle wiped his lips with a cloth and continued talking. "Slavik had gone to your father with a plan to destroy other mafias and gain full power. The whole thing was crazy, obviously and many would die. There is only so much you can do to protect yourself in the world your brother wanted to build.

"Why me then?" I asked.

"Why not?" Markov retaliated. "Your little sister is a selfish brat—"

"Uncle..."

"— she is and you know it. She doesn't care for anyone but herself even at such a tender age. She also adores Slavik and can easily be manipulated. Her naive nature will get her killed one of these days."

"But father never hinted on wanting me to rule," I argued. "He never guided me, he never told me what he wanted me to do when I got to this position. Everything I know I learnt on my own."

"You made many mistakes Viktor," my uncle agreed. "You constantly disappointed your father. You were always reckless and impulsive. Your decisions hurt all those around you and you didn't care for what your father's men thought of you. You were your own storm, threatening to destroy yourself completely."

At my uncle's words, my head dropped. My chest ached because they were all true and familiar. My father had spat them to me time again. Markov knew this. I felt Peach's hand on my lap and she patted me, offering as much comfort as she could in secret. I didn't like having her here at this moment. Listening to what my uncle had to say. I put my hand over hers and squeezed.

"But..." my uncle seemed to continue. "Those were all the reasons Nikolai wanted you as Don. You learnt how to earn the fear, respect and loyalty from the Bratva without your father having to help you. You owned your mistakes, you became patient. You think things through before you do them. You made your father proud. I would never lie to you Viktor. The words I speak now came out of his mouth. He trusted you with something he sometimes didn't trust himself with."

My uncle had the most genuine expression on his face and I knew he wouldn't want me dead.

"I promised your materi i ottsa that I would protect you and see you through your reign until my dying breath. I plan to do that Viktor. The Makarovich family might be messed up but for us who remain, we have loyalty and respect. Da?"

I sighed and held onto Peach's hand tighter. "You don't like to tell me what's going on in the Bratva," I pointed out. "You keep things from me."

Markov snorted. "You think it's because I want to control this mafia?" he asked. "It's because you feel like you aren't ready Viktor. I try my best to ease your transfer as Don. It is why I did not tell you of the hacker when she first appeared. You have been handling a lot nephew but you have continued to surprise me. You've kept up with everything even without my help. You are a good Don."

"Spasibo vam uncle," I thanked him and got a nod in turn.

I turned to Peach who smiled when our gazes locked. I gestured to her clutch and she nodded, pulling out her phone. She tapped the screen a few times and I gestured my uncle to be quiet. He frowned but didn't question me. A low ringing sound came from Peach's phone and she placed it on the table.

"We don't have much time. Someone will notice the mics aren't working," she informed me. I turned to my uncle.

"Someone is trying to kill me uncle," I told him. "We don't have much time to talk but they know about Chyornye den'gi. They are using it to finance a project to have me executed."

"Who's the girl really?" he asked.

"Peach McCoy. The hacker," Peach answered. "What we've learnt is that whoever wants Viktor killed wants me too but alive. Probably to do something for them."

"What is the noise from the phone?"

"A signal to make sure any secret mics around us are disabled but we can't keep this up."

Peach looked worried about how long we'd been talking.

"We need a more secure place to speak," I instructed my uncle and he nodded.

"South headquarters," he told me. "The place is supposed to close next month. Find me there and we will go through this properly."

"Peach and I have to throw them off first."

"Of course."

"I'm taking off the signal now. Go back to talking as you've been," Peach spoke up and tapped her screen, the are around us falling silent as the low ringing sound stopped. She tucked her phone away and went back to her steak like nothing happened.

Markov and I continued to talk, Peach gave me half of the food she was supposed to be eating and kept silent for the rest of the night. After that we left and Peach talked again in the car.

"Your uncle seems nice," she mused.

"Really?"

"Yeah. When he's not cursing me off the planet," she snorted. "Real mature."

"I would never let him or anyone else talk to you like that—"

"I can fight my own battles Viktor," Peach interrupted me. "I had a part to play so I played it well. Hadn't I... snookums."

I laughed low. "Yes," I confirmed. "You did, baby."

"That was a nasty trick you pulled back there by the way," she grumbled holding herself in the faux fur coat tighter.

"I don't think so. I was just testing you. You have to be prepared for any situation and question."

"I'm like a professional liar Viktor. You can't spill that with me," she stated as I stopped at a red light. I shook my head at her, wondering how she'd even given herself that title. "Is there a Russian translation for that?"

"Professional liar?" I inquired.

"Yeah."

"Professional'ny lzhets," I stated. Peach repeated after me. I corrected her pronunciation until she said it well enough. "We might just make a great little Russian of you yet."

"You can try. Linguistics are not my strong suit," she explained and I drove forward as the light turned green again. We drove for a while in silence.

"Viktor? If it's not Markov after you... who is it?"

I sighed, having gone through that for a while in my head. "I don't know but if they know Summit Holdings... they are a formidable opponent."

My words hang between us until we reached my hotel. I parked in the underground garage in my private parking and got out to help Peach but she managed to help herself. We walked to the elevator and pressed the button for my penthouse on the 35th floor, having to make a thumbprint scan to allow the elevator to gain access.

"That's some sweet tech," Peach said with a low whistle, her eyes fascinated.

"I had it installed when I became Don. I wanted my privacy," I explained.

"Who put it in for you?"

"Titan Mobile," I stated simply and Peach's jaw dropped.

"You mean those guys the government is trying to hire to build some sort of war android? You know them? Like personally?" she asked, her eyes filling with awe. I nodded and pride begun to roll in my chest when she gushed about the company, our journey up the elevator.

Her speech ceased in her throat when she stepped out of the elevator into my penthouse's living room. The place was open and the back wall was all glass. I'd gone fore a more modern but dark look with my grey couches, sleek steel furniture and dark coloured walls.

"You live here?" Peach inquired, her voice breathy. "Alone?"

"You like it?" I softly wondered.

"Like it?" she laughed low. "It's beautiful."

The satisfaction in my chest burst out and I couldn't help but smile smugly behind her back. Her awe was new, fresh and it made me feel good. No one who'd come here had been so fascinated as she was.

"I would give you a tour but we have to go," I stated point down the hall to my right. "Emergency staircase four floors down and then through the servant's elevator. We have a cab to catch back to our hotel and then we can take the jeep to where we'll meet Markov."

Peach seemed sad as she came my way. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and steered her with me. "Don't worry. I'll let you come back to see this."

"Promise?"

"Promise. Now come on malyshka," I encouraged.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"I'll tell you another day. Maybe when you can greet me in Russian," I suggested as I opened the hidden door for her and let her descend the stairs first.

Our descent was quiet and when we reached the floor we were supposed to get off on, we did and I led to way to the servants entrance. We managed to get out of the hotel undetected and grabbed a cab. Seated in the small space, I wondered how this really was going to play out for Peach and I.

We still had many unanswered questions but when I glanced to the person I was worried about, her head was resting on the seat, her eyes closed but I knew she was awake, listening and thinking. There was still much to do but we'd get through it. We had to.

At the moment, I focused on the fact that unlike my other experiences, I didn't face this challenge alone. I had someone to rely on.

I had Peach.

Everything would've been fine if I hadn't received a text from Markov.

Markov: Remember the number and name you wanted me to run? Peirce?

Me: Yes. What did you find?

Markov: Peirce McCoy. Your hacker's older brother.

Me: Brother?

Markov: Yes. He used to deal drugs for a local capo who works for us currently. Old Buck.

Me: He was all over Peach's call log. He couldn't be a threat, right?

Markov: No.... and you're not going to believe why.