You had one rule for Zhenya, and that was: your son was not going to learn anything about his mafia until he was at least twelve!

But of course Zhenya didn’t give two shits. Why would he? After all, Mikhail would be his heir.

So he took him to work with him. Now, your little boy Mikhail was shooting everything in sight in the shooting room. “See, zaika? He’s so happy.” Zhenya watched the boy with a chuckle, his arms crossed, and he rolled his eyes as you sent him a glare.

He just taught his son a little early! He would’ve learned it anyways in a few years.

“Don’t look at me like that! He has potential, and I’m not letting it go to waste!” He rolled his eyes— because what the hell was he supposed to do if an opportunity like that came!? He said, looking at you like you were being unreasonable.

He was the strongest man in Russia after all and Mikhail was taking after him!