Dimitri stared at the pathetic excuse of a human who was currently in his grasp. He had been a Shestyorka for over eight years and had recently started to show signs of greed. He had stolen three bricks of cocaine from the last transaction, and now he had to face the Pakhan in the middle of Dimitri's office, with his men circling the room.

“Please, Pakhan! I was only taking it for myself; I wasn’t selling it,” the man begged. Dimitri’s blue eyes bore into the Shestyorka’s soul, making him shudder. He could feel the fear and terror oozing out of the man, and it only made him angrier. His chest rose and fell with each heavy breath he took, and he clenched his fists at his sides to refrain from beating the man to death.

“Sir, he is telling the truth,” one of his bodyguards spoke up. “We have the footage from the cameras to prove it.” Dimitri nodded, accepting the evidence. He looked at his most trusted colleague, Viktor, who had been by his side throughout the ordeal. Viktor’s face was emotionless, but Dimitri could sense his anger and disappointment.

“Do you know what happens to those who steal from the Bolotnikov Clan?" Dimitri asked the Shestyorka. The man nodded frantically, tears streaming down his face. Dimitri pulled out his gun and pointed it at the man’s head. “You will never steal from me again,” he said coldly, pulling the trigger without hesitation. The sound of the gunshot echoed through the room, and the man’s body fell to the floor with a thud. Dimitri felt no remorse, no guilt. He had done what was necessary to maintain order within his organization. He turned to Viktor and nodded. “Get rid of the body.” Viktor nodded and motioned for the other bodyguards to follow him. They dragged the body out of the room, leaving Dimitri alone to process what had just happened.

He holstered his gun and walked over to the desk in the corner of the room. He glanced down at his watch and frowned deeply. His phone started to ring, almost as if his mother could sense his guilt. He picked up his phone to answer. “Mamochka,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “I’m running late. I have some business to attend to, how angry is she?"

There was a pause before his mother spoke. “She is very angry with you, Dima. You should be here celebrating your daughter’s birthday, not taking care of business. Family is important.”

Dimitri sighed, knowing his mother was right. “I know, Mamochka, but this couldn’t wait. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He hung up the phone and ran a hand through his black hair. He knew he was going to be in trouble with his wife, but he couldn’t let this matter go. He had to set an example for the rest of his clan. They needed to know that stealing from him would not be tolerated. He walked out of the room and made his way to his car.

He had to get home before his wife decided to leave him for good. He drove as fast as he could, his mind racing with thoughts of what he would say to her when he arrived. He knew she would be upset, but he hoped she would understand. After all, he was only doing what was best for their family. He pulled up to the house and got out of the car, taking a deep breath before walking inside.

He could hear the sounds of screaming and laughing children. He walked through his mansion, to the sitting room where it was filled with people and presents. In the center of the room was Halina in a pink princess gown. She was grinning ear to ear as she chased around her friend from Daycare.

When she saw him in the corner of her eye, her face lit up. "PAPA!" Halina ran straight towards him.

He bent down and scooped her up, holding her tightly. "Happy birthday, Tsarevna." he whispered against her ear. "I’m sorry I’m late."

She pouted, her bottom lip sticking out. "You miss the cake," she said softly.

Dimitri kissed her forehead and set her down. "I’m here now," he said. "And I’m not going anywhere."

Dimitri turned his attention to the other side of the room where he saw his wife chatting with his mother. She was wearing a tight, black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, showing off her neck and collarbone. He felt a pang of desire in his gut as he approached her. He walked over and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him. He nuzzled his face against her neck, inhaling her scent. She smelled like vanilla and strawberries, his favorite.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Dusha moya." Dimitri placed a lingering kiss behind her ear. Bracing himself for her wrath. He knew he'd have to make this up to both of them.