I grew up with the moans and screams of innocent women.
I listened to the sound of a man’s brain matter hitting the wall.
I knew how to load and fire a gun at the age of 12.
It was normal. It was family.
Family above all is what we had infused in our blood. A Vitaly never went against his or her own. To do so was to invite death. My mother had made that mistake. What she did not know was that to go against the family you needed proof, facts and witnesses.
Twenty-one years later, I have proof.
I have facts.
And I sure as hell have witnesses.
I made it my mission to finish what my mother started. Even if it meant going against the family. Even if it meant sacrificing those that meant the most to me.
The stakes are higher.
The bodies fall quicker.
The blood runs weaker.
And this time I know I’ll win.
Even if I have to die trying.