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"I'm Maxim Radomir," He muttered. "- and they call me BARBARIC." 


Setting:
In 1990's Russia.
Nizhny Novgorod, Moscow

Maxim, a man in his late 20's, leave Nizhny Novgorod to  search his long lost brother in Moscow, but is he there for this??? Maybe not.



The story contain violence and high stake crime that maynot be comfortable for some readers.

Also in wattpad every Friday

IN THE END: MAXIM

THIS EPISODE CONTAIN VIOLENCE THAT MAYBE UNCOMFORTABLE FOR SOME READERS.

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The mansion loomed under the cold Moscow sky, surrounded by thick fog and a tense silence.

Armed guards patrolled the gates with rifles slung over their shoulders, their breaths visible in the frigid air.

Suddenly, Four black vans roared down the narrow driveway, tires screeching as they came to a sudden halt at the gate.

The guards moved quickly, rifles raised. "Identify yourselves!" one of them barked.

Before an answer could come, a gunshot shattered the night. Blood sprayed across the iron gate as the lead guard collapsed to the ground.

Nikolai Sergeev stepped out of the middle van, smoke curling from the barrel of his pistol. His eyes were cold, devoid of mercy. "Trashes," he muttered under his breath.

Two men followed Nikolai, swiftly opening the gate. The vans rolled forward, headlights cutting through the fog. Guards rushed from all sides, but Nikolai was faster. He raised his pistol and fired with lethal precision—headshots, one after another. Bodies hit the ground before their fingers could even find their triggers.

By the time they reached the front steps of the mansion, the air was thick with the scent of gunpowder and death.

Nikolai kicked open the grand oak door and stepped into the lavishly decorated foyer. Crystal chandeliers gleamed above, their light reflecting off marble floors now smeared with dirt and blood.

"Isn't there anyone left?" Nikolai called out mockingly, his voice echoing through the vast hall.

A sudden blur of movement from his left—Nikolai spun just in time to block a blow aimed at his head. A desperate man, likely one of Yuri's bodyguards, grappled with him. With a growl, Nikolai drove his knee into the man's stomach, then shot him in the head without hesitation.

"You should've welcomed us better, Minister Yuri," Nikolai sneered.

Footsteps echoed behind him as Igor Smertin stepped through the doorway, dressed impeccably despite the carnage. His expression remained unreadable. "Nikolai, that's enough," Igor commanded.

Nikolai wiped blood from his face and nodded. "Understood." He ascended the grand staircase, boots thudding against polished wood.

Moments later, he returned, dragging a trembling young woman by the arm. Lilya Ilyina, Yuri's daughter. Her pale face was streaked with tears.

"Don't touch her!" Yuri roared, stepping into the room with rage-fueled defiance.

Lilya sobbed, "Baba, what's happening?"

Igor approached with a predator's calm. "Ah, Minister Yuri," he said softly. "Do you remember what I told you? You thought your 'damn government' would protect you. Where are they now?"

Yuri's hands trembled, but he refused to show weakness. "You won't get away with this, Smertin."

Nikolai cocked his gun, pointing it directly at Lilya's head. "We're wasting time. Should I start with her?"

"No! Stop!" Yuri pleaded, voice cracking. "Please, don't—"

Igor smirked, leaning close to Yuri's ear. "I won't kill your daughter. But if that crazy kid wants to, well... I can't stop him." He turned and walked toward the door without a backward glance.

"Finish this, Nikolai," Igor ordered coldly.

Nikolai didn't hesitate. He pulled the trigger three times—each shot echoing like thunder in the vast hall. Yuri collapsed, lifeless, blood pooling around his body.

Lilya screamed, throwing herself onto her father's corpse, tears streaming down her face. "No! Baba!"

Nikolai holstered his gun, eyes devoid of emotion. "Let's go," he said bluntly, walking past the carnage.

Chapter 3