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dashinhfuzzydeer · 6 months ago

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Chapter 8

The heavy oak door of the mansion groaned as Vaughn pushed it open, the sound a stark contrast to the crisp, sea-salted air he’d just left behind.

He’d been fencing with Landon earlier, a forced pretense of civility that did little to mask the simmering tension between them. Vaughn stepped inside, the lingering scent of freshly cut grass and ozone still clinging to his clothes. He’d just finished a match with Landon, a decidedly less than pleasant affair, before Landon had dropped him off.

The memory of Landon's scoff and the tires screeching as he'd peeled away after Vaughn’s teasing voice that said,

"Bye, wifey!"

Made Vaughn smile faintly. He knew Landon would come around eventually. Forced marriage or not, he’d thaw.

Even if that forced marriage was a direct consequence of Vaughn’s own meticulous machinations.

Vaughn chuckled to himself; Landon was predictable in his petulance, but Vaughn knew that beneath the prickly exterior, a grudging acceptance was slowly, and surely, forming.

Their forced union was a necessity, a desperate gamble to save the Falling King Empire from the abyss of its own making – a fall, Vaughn admitted with a thrill of pride, that he had orchestrated.

A plan, he thought with a surge of pride, that had the entire Falling King Empire on its knees, practically begging to be saved by the New York Bratva.

Inside, the mansion was a cacophony of laughter and clinking glasses. The Heathens, the Bratva heirs he was meant to lead, were in their usual state of relaxed revelry. The air thick with cigar smoke and the pouring of expensive alcohol.

Nikolai, all boisterous energy, threw an arm around Vaughn’s shoulders in a sideways hug, his hand clapping Vaughn’s shoulder with undue force.

"Vi-Vi! you magnificent bastard! Look what you’ve done!"

He roared, his voice thick with vodka. He punctuated the last part with a wink.

"You’ve got the Falling Kings by the balls! Now we can all marry our little lovelies peacefully"

Nikolai grinned, referring to his impending nuptials with his long-time boyfriend, Brandon, just as Killian was on the cusp of wedding Glyndon King.

Vaughn merely offered a small, enigmatic smile, a subtle nod. He let Nikolai’s praise wash over him, savoring the taste of victory. He had played the long game, patiently setting each piece, each pawn, until the entire board was his.

Vaughn simly smiled as the others too started to shower him with compliments of his mastermind plan, the edge of his lips barely turning upwards as he heard them. He knew they didn’t understand the intricate dance of power he’d initiated.

They saw only the immediate outcome: the absence of obstacles in their path to happiness.

Jeremy called out from the depths of a leather armchair, his eyes narrowed in playful suspicion. Jeremy, ever the jokester, sauntered over, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Where were you Vi-Vi? Been out with your wifey again?"

A low, almost imperceptible growl rumbled in Vaughn’s chest. His smile vanished, replaced by a hard edge that could cut through steel. Vaughn’s smile vanished, replaced by a cold, hard glint in his eyes. The word, even in jest, was an unwelcome intrusion.

"Don’t call him that"

He said, his tone a low growl. Nobody, absolutely nobody, could call Landon ‘wifey’ but him, even in jest. It was a possessiveness that was as visceral as it was illogical, a dangerous spark in the cold depths of his heart.

Killian, always quick to jump on any opportunity to needle Landon, chimed in, his disdain for Landon was legendary as he snorted and spoke

"Probably had to comfort the sulking brat and soothe him. Seems like he’s on his period these days, always moping"

Nikolai laughed, adding fuel to the burning fire inside Vaughn’s chest.

"He deserves it funny for all the trouble he caused us!".

Vaughn’s jaw tightened. He turned slowly, his gaze sweeping over all of them. The growl deepened, turning into a low, guttural rumble.

Vaughn’s gaze swept across the room, a predator’s stare that made even the Heathens shift uncomfortably. His expression was stone cold, his eyes glacial.

His voice, when he spoke, was dangerously calm.

"Don't make fun of Landon"

He said, his voice low and dangerous that almost vibrated just like his father's voice does when he speaks as the pakhan.

"No matter what he did, no matter what he is, he’s going to be my husband. He’s the future pakhan’s spouse. So, you all, as the other bratva heirs, will learn to respect him"

His words earned him a collection of shocked gasps from his fellow Heathens as their unhinged doctor was the first one to stand up against their future pakhan.

Killian scoffed, fury tightening his features, his dark eyes flashing with defiance as he spoke up,

"Respect him? Of all people, you want us to respect that…...that nuisance?"

However his words held no power to intimate the future pakhan who spoke up firmly,

"Yes"

Vaughn's voice was cutting with each word, one single word from him was enough to make his statement clear.

"Yes. You will respect my husband"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over each face, a slow burn of disdain simmering beneath the surface as he spoke up,

"You will. Because your blatant disrespect stems from your own shortcomings. It’s your own fault".

Vaughn stated, his voice an unwavering command as the heir of the Russian Mafiosos.

"It’s your own fault, your lack of discipline, your lack of honed skills".

Angered confusion rippled through the group, but Vaughn wasn’t done. He stood taller, his lean frame radiating a quiet menace.

"You all have been enjoying your lazy life here on Brighton Island. Partying, drinking, and flaunting the raw talent you possess. You should have been honing yourselves, pushing your limits, but no. You chose stagnancy"

He paused, letting his words sink in, the weight of his disappointment pressing down on them, the disapproval of their actions from their future pakhan.

"That’s why someone who isn’t even trained to fight, who isn’t a part of this world, could kidnap not one but two of you"

He said, his gaze settling on Nikolai and Killian whose shoulders tensed at his words.

"That’s why he could set our previous mansion on fire and all we could do is watch it burn"

His voice dropped another octave, the barely contained fury causing the air around him to vibrate.

He finally landed on Jeremy, the leader in charge in his absence, his tone dropping another degree to the point it sent a shiver to the men gathered.

"And that’s why you, with your girlfriend's carelessness, gave Landon access to the cameras that caused all this"

He turned his gaze to Jeremy, a silent accusation hanging heavy in the air.

His eyes narrowed, focusing on them again,

"That's why he always managed to get under your skin. Because, between the two of you, the unhoned Landon is superior. He was forced to fight, forced to adapt, while you all choose to laze around on your potential".

He stepped forward, the muscles in his jaw tightening.

"That is why even I needed months of him not my existence to defeat him"

The truth, stark and unforgiving, hung in the air. Their pride, carefully nurtured, bristled at his words, but deep down they knew it was true.

The harshness of his words hung in the air, the truth of it cutting deeper than any blade. They had been complacent, resting on their laurels, while Landon, an outsider, had repeatedly proven his mettle. The silence that followed was thick with the weight of their own inadequacies.

"Have you fallen in love with him?"

Killian finally broke the silence, his voice laced with incredulity and disdain as he spoke,

"Is that why you're defending him so fiercely?"

Vaughn let out a dark laugh. It was a cold laugh cold, devoid of humor. It was a sound that sent shivers down their spines.

"Love him?"

He finally looked them all in the eyes. Hazel eyes of a predator as he said,

"No"

The word was sharp, like a shard of ice.

"No, I am not in love with Landon. Not one bit"

He saw the shock on their faces, and he felt a surge of disgust at their limited thinking.

"But I respect his willpower, his resilience, and his ability to see what you are all blind to. I admire him for his capabilities, while I am ashamed of all of you. Each of you have been fighting for your whole life and have gotten nowhere while Landon, who hasn't, has already beaten you all"

His jaw tightened, and he turned on his heel. This conversation was over. He didn’t need to justify himself to them, to anyone.

He had laid bare the flaws in their character, the laziness that had allowed Landon to manipulate them, and he was done. Their pride might not let them admit it, but Vaughn knew they understood.

He’d left them to stew in their own inadequacies, a bitter pill of truth that he hoped would eventually drive them to something more. He had work to do, plans to finalize, and a reluctant fiancé to break, and perhaps, just maybe, understand.

But apparently, he was so damn wrong.

"Looks like after Cecily and Annika, we lost another one to that man's manipulation"

Came Gareth's sharp comment that stopped the Future Pakhan of the New York Bratva.

The air in the Brighton Island training room was thick with animosity.

Vaughn, a lean figure amidst the hulking forms of his bratva brothers, stood rigid. His jaw clenched, a muscle twitching in his cheek.

The accusations came, hurled like venomous darts, still echoed in his ears.

"You are to naive to understand what that snake is doing to you Vi"

Jeremy spoke up firmly, standing as the oldest among them and as the leader of the Heathens as others followed his steps.

"Yeah, you have become a puppet dancing to Landon’s strings without realizing it"

Nikolai spoke up with a venomous hiss as he spoke up Landon's name, as if speaking the Devil's name it's.

They dared to besmirch Landon's name, a name Vaughn would not tolerate being dragged through the mud.

"You sit there, in your ivory tower in New York"

Killian had dared sneer, his voice a low growl as he mocked Vaughn. Killian had sneered, his thick neck flushed with anger,

"Protected by your papa’s money and influence. You wouldn't know a real fight if it bit you on the ass."

Others had chimed in, a chorus of doubt and resentment. Gareth, his face mottled with disdain, had spat

"You think Landon's so great, so skilled? He’s a leech, Vi. A manipulative whore using your pathetic infatuation to climb the ladder".

With that, something snapped in Vaughn.

No matter who Landon is, currently he is Vaughn’s fiancee.

Vaughn’s name is associated with him and soon it will be official that they are married.

Someone called the Future Pakhan's spouse a 'manipulative whore'. And if there is one thing Vaughn has is pride.

Pride on himself and his family, one Landon is soon going to be a part of. He will be fucking damned today if he can't defend his fiancee infront of his Bratva Brothers.

Because there is a reason Vaughn choose Landon to be his equal in future and that means his bratva brothers will have to listen to him.

Either they understand it nicely or he will beat the information inside their head because it's not about any kind of 'love', it's about them questioning their future pakhan's decisions with not valid arguments but unnecessary cursing.

It is them disrespecting their future pakhan's spouse with nothing but old stubbornness.

Vaughn looked at Gareth, with a look that made the fixer shudder with the cold intensity the gaze held despite the warm tone of his eyes as the Morozov heir spoke up,

"Come. Any weapon you want. All of you. If you can land a single blow on me, I’ll admit defeat. I’ll admit I was wrong. But you won't. You all have become lazy mobsters here in Brighton Island, too comfortable in your positions".

He knew they couldn't touch him. Not in a million years. He met their stunned gazes, his challenge clear.

He watched as they shifted, their bravado momentarily faltering. He could practically see the cogs turning in their heads. He’d been away in New York, honing his body into a lethal weapon, while they’d been drowning themselves in booze and love along with parties.

They had become content with their status in Brighton Island, basking in the small amount of power they had amassed.

Killian, ever the hothead, stepped forward first. He was the group’s boxer, known for his brute strength and devastating punches. He bounced on the balls of his feet, a sneer twisting his lips.

"Alright, Vaughn, let's see how much your fancy city training has helped you"

The challenge was accepted with a mixture of anger and arrogance. They all stalked toward the training ring, their weapons of choice clattering against the ground.

This challenge was an insult to their pride and arrogance. They needed to prove their future Pakhan wrong.

Vaughn stood in the center, a figure of poised calm amidst their fury. They all would come and attacked him with reckless abandon, punches flying, knives flashing, guns blazing, he knew that.

But Vaughn was always whirlwind of motion, dodging, weaving, and deflecting with an effortless grace. His discipline vibrating in his being as he pranced into the arena like a tiger.

"Come"

Vaughn spoke through the barrier of his boxing gloves and he didn't brother taking off his glasses, too confident in his own skills as he stood across the red masked Heathen.

Killian, a skilled boxer, lunged forward with a series of vicious blows. Vaughn simply sidestepped, each attack missing by a hair’s breadth. Then, with a swift, precise movement, Vaughn slammed his fist into Killian's jaw, sending him crashing to the ground, unconscious.

"Kill!"

They all heard Gareth yell out for his little brother as he ran into the arena.

Vaughn merely stared at his unconscious body that his elder brother came to pick up as Vaughn took off his gloves and turn to the infamous duo of Heathens.

"Next, come"

Vaughn watched as Nikolai glared at him, the youngest among them who took of his unbuttoned shirt and entered the ring.

"You will regret this Vi"

He warned Vaughn who merely stared back at him, pushing a leg back and taking his stance to fight the bull of the Heathens.

Nikolai, his face etched with a mix of shock and anger, stepped forward, his raw power his most potent weapon. He lunged at Vaughn, a bear of a man, his brute strength evident in his heavy blows. He was a absolute mountain of raw strength who charged with a bellow.

Vaughn however, was too quick, too agile. He sidestepped Nikolai’s attacks with ease, using his knowledge of pressure points to paralyze him painfully with precise jabs, leaving Nikolai writhing on the ground, his muscles seizing. With the practiced awareness of pressure points, he has jabbed at key locations on his body, crippling him with a paralyzing pain that brought him to his knees.

"Niko!"

This time, Jeremy came running into the arena, picking up his younger bestfriend and carrying him away to massage the damaged muscles and free Nikolai from the paralysis.

Vaughn payed no attention whatever the two were doing, giving them sometime as he watched the fear built up in all of their presence, hopefully starting to learn their lesson.

He however was far from done with them as he spoke up after a solid five minutes of silence from him to let the remaining two tend the injured two.

"Next, come"

Jeremy, more calculated, more strategic, attempted to use misdirection and feints in his mind as he stepped up the arena and locked eyes with Vaughn, the steel cold grey meet the summer hazel as the oldest among them spoke up,

"Let's finish this Vi"

Vaughn saw right through his plans before the fight ecen began, he merely acknowledge Jeremy with a nod as the fight began and ended far too quickly once again.

Jeremy, relying on his calculated attacks, tried to trap Vaughn, but Vaughn anticipated each move, meeting them with a 360° kick that cracked Jeremy jaw and knocked him off his feet. The blood immediately spilled from the other's mouth as he held his bleeding mouth, still trying to process that just how quickly Vaughn had defeated him.

Vaughn looked down at him with the look in his eyes that resembled his father's disappointment one, as if none of them were worth of his attention as he spoke up, looking at Gareth, the one who called his fiancee a 'Manipulative Whore',

His eyes narrowed at the blonde man as he spoke up with a coldness in his tone.

"Last, Come"

Gareth, not the best fighter of their group stepped the arena with nervousness, his hands slightly trembling witness their best fighters going down so easily.

'This should work'

Gareth, bringing up the rear, opted for ranged combat, pulling out a pistol. Till now, Vaughn had proven to be untouchable and invisible in close combat but his advantage was long ranged combat so he opted for that.

Gareth, with his usual arsenal, unloaded ten bullets, five directly into Vaughn's chest and four directly on the helmet Vaughn had donned.

The bullets bounced uselessly Vaughn's after images as the future pakhan moved with a speed that was dazing to human eyes, turning and confusing Gareth, while Gareth failed to land a single shot on him.

Five bullets were fired and none slammed into Vaughn's chest armor. He didn't flinch, but gave Gareth a look that stated that he should aim better.

Gareth almost emptied the clip, four more bullets hitting Vaughn's helmet, the final bullet was about to be spent but not a single hit made on the exposed areas when Vaughn suddenly apparently infront of Gareth, kicking the gun off his hands and taking it, pointing the gun with the last bullet at Gareth's head with a ice cold look on his face.

Gareth was frozen on his spot along with everyone that was stunned with Vaughn’s agility and speed. Vaughn lowered the gun and scanned the room as he spoke up,

"Anyone wants a second round to realize how rusty they are?"

And the message was clear. Nobody dared face the future pakhan once again.

The silence that followed in the training room was deafening, punctuated only by the gasps of the defeated Heathens.

They lay sprawled on the floor, nursing their injuries and their shattered egos. Vaughn stood over them, his chest rising and falling rhythmically.

He remained untouched, unharmed, and his eyes blazed with a cold, controlled fire.

In that moment, amidst their pain and humiliation, the Heathens understood. They had underestimated Vaughn, assuming his youth meant weakness.

They had seen him, the middle one of all of them and physically the leanest, as just the heir while they, the stronger ones, were the true powers within the Bratva. They had dismissed his words as arrogance, not realizing it was the hard, cold truth.

Lying here, injured and defeated by his hands, they realized just how deadly he truly was, how far he had surpassed them while they had been busy enjoying their leisure days in Brighton Island.

The Heathens were scattered on the ground, defeated, their bodies aching, their pride shattered. The realization dawned upon them then, the sheer terrifying power their future Pakhan wielded.

While they had been indulging in the hedonistic pleasures of Brighton Island, Vaughn had been honing himself, transforming himself into an apex predator. He had been preparing for the future, while they let themselves drown in luxury, their talents withering, left unpolished.

The truth was bitter, but it was finally clear: Vaughn was everything they weren't, and that made him all the more dangerous.

The future Pakhan had been training, honing himself, preparing for the role he would inherit, while they had been lazy, comfortable and complacent. The sting of that realization was far worse than any physical pain they had endured.

He looked down at them, their bodies bruised, their egos shattered. He was leaner, just a little taller than all of them. They were out of breath, muscles hurting.

And he had defeated them all with ease. For the first time, they saw, really saw, the man their future pakhan had become. He had been training, honing his skills for the future that awaited him while they had been living like spoilt children.

Their own laziness and arrogance had been their downfall. They could see their own weakness reflected back at them in Vaughn’s cold, calculating eyes.

He was their future leader, the one who would lead them through the turbulent waters of the Bratva, and they were far below his level.

They had all been outgrown. And they knew it.

But it's not the scariest thing. The scariest thing is, he did it all just because they said one phrase against someone he told them not to.

Under his discipline, it was his way of giving them a warning.

He did this to them and could have done worst for one reason.

He did it all for his 'wifey'.

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