Crimson pact - Crimson pact

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Chapter: 3

Krovavaya🥀

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My mother’s excited voice still echoed through the ballroom.

“He’s here!”

Every head turned toward the entrance.

And there he was.

Alexei.

Standing in the doorway like he had been waiting for this exact moment his entire life.

For a moment, the room felt smaller.

He had grown taller over the years broad shoulders, dark hair slicked back, dressed in an expensive black suit that probably cost more than most people’s monthly salaries.

But some things never changed.

The darkness in his eyes.

The same heaviness that followed him like a shadow.

The same feeling of unease crawling beneath my skin.

My mother rushed toward him as if she had been waiting for this reunion since the day he left.

“Мой сын… мой дорогой мальчик!” she cried.

My son… my dear boy!

She wrapped her arms around him tightly, holding him like he had returned from war instead of fifteen years of comfortable exile.

She kissed his cheeks repeatedly, touching his face as if confirming he was real.

“My poor child,” she whispered dramatically. “You must have suffered so much.”

Alexei smirked slightly.

He enjoyed the attention.

Of course he did.

After a moment, my father approached.

His posture was stiff.

Controlled.

He gave Alexei a short, awkward side hug.

Neither of them looked comfortable.

Alexei’s face held a flicker of annoyance.

My father’s expression said something else entirely.

You should not be here.

But this was neither the time nor the place for honesty.

Too many eyes.

Too many whispers.

Too many important guests watching the Volkov family reunion unfold.

Most of them didn’t know the truth about Alexei’s disappearance.

Only rumors had circulated over the years.

Some believed he had been struggling mentally and left Russia to “clear his mind.”

Others assumed he had traveled abroad for business training.

My father had buried the real story the night it happened.

Buried it deep.

Because if the truth came out

Our family’s reputation would shatter.

And worse…

Someone might blame me.

My father had protected me.

Even if it meant welcoming a monster back into his house.

But Alexei had not exactly lived a quiet life in exile.

My father had kept track of him.

Every payment.

Every location.

Every mistake.

The money my father sent him had disappeared quickly into bars, luxury hotels, and the arms of women who didn’t ask questions.

Hookers.

Alcohol.

Careless living.

My father tolerated many things.

But irresponsibility was not one of them.

And now Alexei was back in the middle of Moscow’s elite society.

One wrong move tonight

And everything could collapse.

Across the room, Anya looked at me.

Concern filled her eyes.

I gave her a small half-smile and nodded.

I’m fine.

She nodded back before walking over to Alexei.

“Welcome home,” she said softly as she hugged him.

Alexei returned the hug casually.

Then his eyes shifted.

Toward me.

The look he gave me felt like ice sliding down my spine.

Hatred.

Bitterness.

Something darker.

As if my existence alone had stolen something from him.

I walked toward him calmly.

Every step measured.

Every breath controlled.

When I reached him, I gave him a short side hug.

The moment his arm touched me, my skin felt like it was crawling with insects.

But my face remained perfectly calm.

Perfectly polite.

The performance had begun.

The rest of the evening moved quickly after that.

My mother took control of Alexei immediately, proudly introducing him to her friends like a prized trophy.

“My son has returned,” she announced repeatedly.

Meanwhile, my father carefully guided him toward several investors and business partners.

Controlled conversations.

Short introductions.

Watching him closely.

Always watching.

I slipped away from the crowd and sat at the bar.

The bartender placed a glass of vodka in front of me without asking.

I took a slow sip.

The burn felt grounding.

Across the room, Alexei kept glancing in my direction.

Not openly.

But often enough that I noticed.

His stare was heavy.

Unsettling.

As if he were still trying to understand something.

Or maybe remembering.

I ignored it.

“The Russo family hasn’t arrived yet?”

A voice interrupted my thoughts.

I turned slightly.

One of my father’s investors stood beside me, swirling his whiskey.

“Not yet,” I replied calmly.

He chuckled.

“They always make an entrance.”

Of course they did.

The Russo family were our biggest competitors.

But also one of our most important business connections.

The Volkov family dominated gambling houses and luxury estate dealings many of them… unofficially acquired.

We also handled certain black market financial operations.

Interest collection.

Debt settlements.

Discreet negotiations.

The Russo family operated differently.

They controlled several elite casinos across Europe.

But their real fortune came from something far more dangerous.

Weapons.

Illegal weapon trading.

Military-grade equipment.

International buyers.

Rumors said their influence reached far beyond Russia.

Which made them both powerful…

And terrifying.

“They’re attending the casino event this week, yes?” the investor asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“That night will be… very profitable.”

The upcoming casino night would bring together some of the wealthiest men in our circles.

Private poker tables.

Million-dollar hands.

Silent deals made between shuffles of cards.

Money laundering disguised as entertainment.

And alliances sealed over whiskey and baccarat.

I smiled politely.

“I’m sure you’ll enjoy the evening.”

Across the room, Alexei was still watching me.

His jaw tightened every time someone spoke to me.

Every time someone laughed at something I said.

His eyes followed me like a storm cloud.

My father approached the bar a few minutes later.

“Roza.”

I turned toward him.

“The Russo family should arrive soon,” he said quietly.

“They are one of the most important guests tonight.”

“I know,” I replied.

He leaned slightly closer.

“You should understand who they are.”

My father’s voice lowered.

“The Russo family is one of the most powerful mafia dynasties in Europe.”

He nodded toward the entrance as if expecting them to appear at any moment.

“The current head of the family is Viktor Russo.”

Cold.

Strategic.

Dangerous.

“And above him is the man who built everything.”

My father’s tone carried respect.

“Leonardo Russo.”

The grandfather.

The legend.

The man who turned a small criminal operation into an international empire.

“They control casinos across Europe,” my father continued.

“But their real power lies in weapon trade.”

Guns.

Military equipment.

Black market supply chains.

“They are our rivals,” he said calmly.

“But also our allies when necessary.”

“And his son?” I asked.

My father looked thoughtful.

“Nikolas Russo.”

I had heard the name before.

Everyone had.

“He rarely attends public events,” my father said.

“He prefers working behind the scenes with his father.”

Which made tonight unusual.

“The Volkov heir has returned,” my father added quietly.

“So the Russo heir decided to appear as well.”

Politics.

Power.

Symbols.

Everything meant something in our world.

My father studied my face carefully.

“I know tonight is difficult for you.”

His voice softened.

“Your brother… your mother…”

I looked down at my glass.

“I’m fine.”

He gently squeezed my shoulder.

“You are stronger than both of them.”

For a moment, I believed him.

Then he added quietly,

“And remember something, Roza.”

“In this world…”

“The most dangerous people are the ones who learn to smile while standing next to their enemies.”

Across the ballroom, my mother laughed loudly beside Alexei.

My brother still stared at me.

And somewhere out there

The Russo family was about to arrive.

Including the mysterious heir.

Nikolas Russo.

And somehow…

I had a feeling that when he walked through those doors

Everything was about to change.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJMlL1pHhU0

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