Vera's POV
Vera stood stiffly with her family, watching as her father escorted his friend, Sergio Zhukova, and his two sons, Kiril and Nikolai, out to their waiting black car. The air was sharp and cold, biting at her cheeks, and the sound of the River flowing nearby only made the silence feel deeper and more serious.
Her father, Vladimir Petrov, the Glava—the Overlord—of the Russian Mafia, clapped Sergio on the shoulder. He was all smiles and power. "We'll talk about the Ivanovich deal soon, Sergio. I know we'll figure out a way to make a fortune."
Sergio smiled back, but his eyes didn't look happy; they looked tight and calculating. "I'm counting on it, Vladimir. This deal will make us rich."
Vera's mother, Zoya, who was the daughter of the Italian Mafia Overlord, handed Sergio a small, velvet-wrapped box. "A little something for your family, Sergio."
Sergio's eyes lit up immediately, not with warmth, but with sudden interest. He bowed slightly. "Thank you, Zoya. You are always too kind."
As the Zhukovas got into their expensive armored car, Vera's brother, Pavel, stayed a few steps apart. His eyes were glued to Sergio, and the look he gave him was pure, cold suspicion—a mix of anger and deep distrust. Vera saw the look and felt a sudden wave of fear crash through her. Her brother wasn't just worried anymore; he was ready for a fight.
The car drove away, the headlights disappearing into the cold country night. The Petrovs waved until it was gone. But the second the car was out of sight, Pavel spun around, facing their father.
"Papa, I don't trust him," Pavel said, his voice low and urgent, like a secret weapon. "He's getting too hungry for power. Too ambitious."
Vladimir laughed, waving a hand in the air like brushing away smoke. "Sergio is my oldest friend, Pavel. We grew up together! He would never betray me."
But Pavel didn't back down. The fear was thick in his eyes. "He's been acting weird, Papa. I think you need to watch your back."
Sergio's tight smile flashed in Vera's memory. Tighter, colder. A shiver ran down her spine. She could easily picture Sergio double-crossing her father and smashing their powerful world to pieces.
"What exactly do you mean, Pavel?" Vladimir demanded, his voice turning hard.
Pavel hesitated, glancing quickly at their mother, Zoya, who was now watching her son with obvious concern.
"Just... be careful, Papa. That's all I'm saying."
Vladimir's face darkened. He scolded his son, the authority in his voice unmistakable.
"Enough, Pavel. Sergio is a trusted friend and ally. I won't have you spreading rumors and trying to cause trouble."
Pavel dropped his head, but Vera saw the frustration burning in his eyes. The sense of dread in her stomach grew heavier, a sign she couldn't ignore.
As they walked back to the grand house, Vera quickly caught up to her brother and nudged his arm. "What was that about? Do you really think Sergio would actually try to betray Father?"
Pavel looked uncertain, shaking his head slightly before ruffling his own hair—the nervous habit he had when he was really stressed. "I don't know, Vera. I just get a bad feeling about him and his son Nikolai. I think they're planning something. I just can't figure out what yet."
He sighed heavily. "I wish Father would just be careful, but he trusts Sergio too much because of their history."
Vera's heart hammered. She whispered a fear that was too big to say out loud. "What if they want to take over? You know they're the next biggest Mafia group after ours."
Their father, Vladimir Petrov, was known as the Glava, the overall leader of the Russian Mafia groups. Everyone feared him because of his massive wealth and power. Mafia families across Russia—and even outside it—paid him respect as their boss.
Pavel looked even more nervous now. "I don't know, Vera. I just don't trust them, that's all. Now, go to bed. Seriously, forget about what I told you tonight, it'll be better if you don't worry." He quickly kissed her forehead. "Good night and sleep tight." He walked quickly into his room and slammed the door shut.
Vera sighed and slowly walked toward her own room. She paused outside the closed door of her father's study when she heard the low, urgent sound of her parents talking.
"Don't you think Pavel is right?" Zoya asked, her voice tight with worry. "You shouldn't trust Sergio that much. He wants something big from you; I can feel it."
Vladimir laughed again, a careless, loud sound that felt completely wrong. "Don't tell me you think Sergio would betray me too! We've been together for fifty years. He knows everything about me. If he wanted to betray me, he would have done it a long time ago."
"I just think you should be careful," Zoya insisted. "I'm going to bed. When are you coming to sleep?"
Vera heard her mother move toward the study door. Knowing she was about to be caught eavesdropping, Vera quickly hurried down the hall to her own room.
Later, lying in her big, soft bed, the worries were too loud to ignore. Pavel had told her to forget what he said, but how could she? Not when their safety, their power, and their entire lives were suddenly hanging in the air. Thinking about the cold betrayal, she finally drifted off, but her sleep was restless and heavy.