Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Mafia ❯ Volume One, Chapter One: Hitch Up ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Nikita Popova sat in the doctor's office. He had been feeling sick for the last three weeks. But the mob boss tried not to show it. Nikita hadn't shown any signs of illness until last night.
His mob, the Solashka mafia, was at a dinner meeting. Nikita was giving a speech when he grew weak and dizzy and passed out right in the middle of it! His right-hand man, Boris Dontsov, and his daughter, Valentina rushed Nikita off to his room immediately.
In the morning, Nikita and his daughter argued that he should go to the doctor. The mob boss hadn't been to the doctor in fifteen years since his wife died.
“I don't care about the past!” the mob princess shot back. “I just don't want you to die on me!” They fought hard but the princess won.
So here Nikita was. In the place he never wanted to go. Valentina had grown into a cutthroat young woman…
Right then, the door opened. The mob boss looked up and saw the doctor standing in the doorway. He looked as if he was in a funeral. So, Nikita knew the news wasn't good.
“Popova-san,” the doctor said. “I have some bad news.”
“Go on, say it,” Nikita said. “I can take anything.” The doctor took in a deep breath.
“You have cancer,” he said. The mob boss kept his composure.
“What kind?” he asked.
“Stomach,” the doctor said. Nikita hung his head. Cancer. He was dying.
“I see,” the mob boss said. The Solashka mafia was over. Unless…
Nikita made it home later that evening. Boris sat in the living room. He looked up.
“Boris,” the mob boss said. “In my office.” The guy nodded and followed the boss to his office.
“Yeah boss?” Boris asked. Nikita looked solemn. The right-hand man had his answer.
“You're dying, right?” he asked. The mob boss nodded.
“Cancer?” Boris asked.
“Stomach,” the boss said.
“Oh,” the right-hand said.
“You know the next part,” Nikita said.
“We find Valentina a husband and break the news to her,” Boris said.
“Right,” the mob boss replied.
“But who?” Boris asked.
“I'm plotting that out,” the mob boss responded. Soon, an idea hit Nikita.
“Boris,” he said. “Get the limo ready. I need to make a little visit.”
“Yes sir!” the right hand said. Then the men headed out.
The limo pulled up to the Kvasha residence in Tokyo. Kvasha was once a worker for the Solashka mafia before he quit, ran away, and got married. By hearsay, the mob found out Kvasha had a son. They weren't sure if this was true or not. There was only one way to see…
Nikita rang the doorbell.
“Coming!” a woman's voice called out. The mob boss waited patiently. Then the door opened. A slender Asian woman stood in the doorway. She had the face of a porcelain doll. Her eyes were like red wine. Her skin smooth and pale. Her hair like black silk. The mob boss fell in lust.
When the woman saw him, fear struck her heart. She tried to close the door on the mob boss. Nikita fought back.
“Go away!” the woman yelled. The mob boss forced himself inside and grabbed woman. She tried to scream but Nikita quickly covered her mouth and slammed the door behind him. Boris watched from the limo.
Be careful with her boss, he thought.
Nikita forced the woman into a chair.
“What the hell are you doing, asshole?!” she yelled. The mob boss smacked her in the face hard.
“Shut it, Ruri!” he snapped. The woman gritted her teeth in pain. She glared at him hatefully.
“I understand you still have some debts you owe me,” the mob boss went on. Ruri grew angrier.
“My husband's been dead for ten years!” she hissed. “You'll get your bloody money soon, you dirty bastard!” Nikita looked as if he was hurt.
“Aw Ruri, Ruri,” he said. “I plan to cancel your debt if you give me one little payment.”
“Uh-huh!” Ruri snapped. “What would that be?” Nikita leaned in close.
“You son,” he said lowly. Ruri's eyes grew big. She fell to her knees.
“Please!” the woman begged. “Don't make Mikhael work under you! I'll take his place! Just don't make him a slave!” Horrible memories of her late husband's days in the Solashka flooded her mind. The woman shed big tears. The mob boss smirked.
“Actually, I have better use for him.” he said. Ruri looked up.
“Huh?” she asked.
“Just tell me where Mikhael is,” Nikita said easily.
“Furthermore,” Mikhael said at his tech club meeting. “If we petition to the government for car companies to make more cars that run on electricity, gas prices would go down and people would save more money!” He was presenting a project for the Taka-Hon Tech Club. The project was to come up with technology that was earth-friendly.
The club applauded. Mikhael bowed with respect.
“Well done, Kvasha,” Ryuji-san, the Taka-Hon president said.
“Thank you,” Mikhael replied. Then he sat down in his chair. Mikhael Kvasha was a bright young man. On top of all of his classes. So bright, Mikhael was made vice president of the Taka-Hon Tech Club. But all wasn't easy. Since his father died, the boy vowed to work hard and make something of himself. And he did it with bright colors. But soon, that would all change…
Once the meeting was over, Mikhael began his walk home. The air was clear and fresh. Nikita waited for him up ahead. Mikhael started walking by.
“Ah, so we meet at last, Mikhael!” the mob boss exclaimed aloud. The boy froze dead in his tracks and turned. A man who looked to be in his early forties was grinning hard at him. The boy began a silent panic.
“Who are you? How do you know my name?” Mikhael said nervously. Nikita didn't answer, but slowly walked closer. Mikhael began to back away.
“Get away,” he said in fear. “I will not hesitate to fight if I need to.” The mob boss drew out his gun. Mikhael's fear increased.
“Okay,” he said. “I don't know how to defend how to myself against guns…” A sweat drop appeared on his head as he nervously laughed. Nikita grinned harder.
“Come with me,” he said at last. Mikhael swallowed hard and complied. Both men headed to the limo.
“Get in,” the mob boss said. Afraid to protest, Mikhael slowly got in. The mob boss slowly looked around and then jumped in quickly. Ruri sat in the limo. Two guns were held to her head. She looked as if she had been crying.
“Mom!” Mikhael cried out. Before he could reach out to her, the young man felt cold steel at his head.
“Don't try it,” one of the mob dogs hissed. The man sat back.
“Drive!” Nikita ordered. The driver stepped on the gas and drove off. Mikhael feared for his and Ruri's lives.
“What do you want from us?” he asked. Nikita smirked.
“Marry my daughter,” he said calmly.