Chapter 1

"You will return to the country whether you like it or not! Do you want me to drag you back by force?" yelled his father before hanging up on him.

Aaron Smirnov, twenty-seven years old, handsome and tall, was the son of Russia's biggest mafia boss. He had been studying and living in England since he was eighteen.

His father didn't want him to associate with foreigners, preferring pure blood for future generations.

Aaron knew he couldn't refuse. He took the first flight back to Russia, his heart heavy, leaving behind his friends and his freedom, knowing his father would stop at nothing to impose his will on his son.

After hours of flight, Aaron arrived at the airport in Russia where about twenty muscular men in black suits and dark glasses were waiting for him. He covered his face with his right hand and crouched down to go unnoticed.

Reaching the third car, Vlad, short for Vladimir, opened the back door for him. Aaron got in.

"Is my father at home?" he asked the driver.

"No, sir, he is at the company."

"Okay. Thank you."

The driver looked at Aaron with a puzzled look. Usually, bosses cared very little about their employees, let alone being thankful as paying their salary made them feel entitled to them, even more so in the world of the mafia. The driver inwardly thought that Aaron would face challenges within their organization.

After an hour's drive, they arrived in front of a majestic mansion that almost resembled a castle due to its grandeur. A vast garden stretched as far as the eye could see.

They proceeded towards the house, and there, in front of the door, Aaron's mother and sisters, eyes brimming with tears, stood waiting for him. His sisters rushed towards him, embracing him tightly.

His mother, however, remained frozen in place, as if struggling to realize that her beloved son was finally back home. Aaron approached her.

"Mother!" he said to her, and she burst into tears. She was so happy, nine long years had passed since she had seen her dear child. God knows how much he had been missed.

"Mother, stop crying. You're going to get sick."

"I missed you so much, my son."

"I missed you too, mother. I missed you too."

Then, his mother hugged him once again, while his father's gruff voice echoed.

"You took your time." Aaron turned to face his father, dressed all in black from head to toe. His piercing blue eyes seemed to penetrate Aaron's soul, intimidating him since his childhood.

"Hello, father," Aaron said almost curtly. He loved his father and wanted to embrace him, but the fear of rejection held him back. But unexpectedly, his father said to him:

"Come into my arms, my son," and they embraced.

After a few minutes, they entered the house. Myra and Kira joyfully escorted their brother to his room, which remained unchanged. It was a large dark room located on the second floor, where nothing had moved for nine years.

"Unpack your things and come down for dinner, we'll be waiting for you downstairs," said Myra, the eldest of the triplets.

Aaron, Myra, and Kira were triplets. Myra was the oldest, followed by Aaron, and Kira was the youngest. They looked so alike, except for the fact that Aaron had no freckles and had blue eyes like their father, while the girls had green eyes like their mother.

In terms of beauty, Aaron surpassed even his sisters. His skin was flawless, so white that he almost seemed albino. His eyebrows, eyelashes, and hair were a bright white, while his sisters had blond hair. His beauty was almost unreal.

In his room, Aaron noticed that nothing had changed, even the books he had read before his departure nine years ago were still there. The room remained in the same state, just cleaner.

The room was huge, large enough to accommodate twenty or more people. The adjoining bathroom was also spacious, with transparent glass windows. After undressing, Aaron took a refreshing hot shower before going downstairs to eat with his family who awaited him.

His family watched him descend the stairs, their faces glowing with happiness, and Aaron smiled as well, happy to be reunited with them.

He took his place at the table, to the left of his father and across from his mother. On the table were all of Aaron's favorite dishes: borscht, chicken cutlets, rassolnik... his mother had prepared his favorite dishes especially for him. His father pointed out that it was too much, almost like a feast for the nouveau riche, but his mother, indifferent to the comments, was content to see her son happy.

As Aaron was enjoying his meal, his father started asking him questions. His mother knew it would lead to an argument, so she asked them to wait until after dinner.

"We are not savages, animals," retorted her husband, disregarding her words.

"So, did you get your degree?" he asked.

"Yes, father," Aaron replied, and his father burst with joy.

"A degree in Operational Business Management and a Master in management, I am proud of you, my son," he said, patting his son's shoulder.

Aaron had lied to his father. In reality, he had chosen to pursue his dream of becoming a doctor, even though he had gone to England to study business management. However, he did indeed have a Master's degree in management, having studied two fields at university.