Marat looked up at his "executioner" in horror, expecting the worst. But Damir ignored his frightened stare, pressing his lips into a thin line as he fitted the brass knuckles onto his own fingers.
A split second later, with a crushing blow to the face, Marat felt a flash of searing pain—then blissful silence.
Satisfied, Damir let the bleeding gang leader collapse to the ground. He whistled to his men, signaling them to halt the ongoing fight.
While he had been dealing with Marat, his ten or so guys had been engaged in their own battles.
"Boys, leave them be!" he shouted, waving them off.
Seeing their leader unconscious in a pool of blood, the opposing gang also reached a grim conclusion and had no choice but to surrender.
That was how the two criminal groups "signed" their agreement on territorial control. From that moment on, Damir and his crew could operate freely, without threats.
Marat and his gang, on the other hand, were forced to keep their heads down and stay out of the way. There were no more clashes between them, and Marat faded into the background.
But similar fights continued to break out with others. Somehow, Damir always emerged victorious. His reputation as a leader of his still-small criminal group grew rapidly. The neighborhood boys were turning into hardened criminals.
Their operations expanded along with their limits, though they never quite crossed into heavy crime. Still, the gang made money however they could—usually illegally. Robberies, car thefts, and more became part of their daily business. The more they did, the more connections they gained. The network grew, along with influence and protection.
And things might have gone on like that indefinitely—until Damir made a mistake.
Chapter 3
His mother greeted her son with joy. After standing in an embrace for about half an hour on the doorstep, she wiped away her sudden tears and began to chatter.
She told him how she had eagerly waited for this moment, how she had baked his favorite pastries, and about all the other treats he had missed during his student life.
Damir smiled warmly and nodded.
“Mom is in her element,” he thought.
She also mentioned the neighbor’s daughter, who had been helping and supporting her.
«She’s become such a grown young woman, a real bride already. A good girl, a beauty,» his mother said warmly.
Damir managed to listen to all of it while taking off his coat and shoes in the small hallway of their three-room house. He was touched by his mother's attention and care.
«Thank you, Mom, but you really didn’t have to go to all that trouble,» he said, bending nearly in half to hug his petite mother again.
She began kissing both of his cheeks and crying once more. She stroked his thick black curls and looked into his large dark eyes with deep love and pride.
«How handsome you've become, my son…»
Damir pressed his lips together and didn’t say anything—he just looked into her kind, light eyes with gratitude.
After dinner, the praised neighbor girl came over with her mother.
He had known them since childhood.
They came to greet him and to congratulate him on finishing university soon.
After dinner, they all sat at the table, drinking tea. The conversation was about Moscow, the challenges and joys of student life, his successes and future hopes. In short—everything about him.
Damir understood what this little feast was about and what they were hoping for from him, but he didn’t rush into anything. He preferred to sneak away from the “party” as quickly as possible.
“I’m going out for a walk,” he said after coming back from the bathroom and quickly grabbing his jacket on the way to the door.
“Maybe Aaliya can go with you, son?” his mother suggested, her eyes full of pleading.
Damir stopped and looked around at the guests.
The women sat there with hopeful eyes, watching him in anticipation of his answer.
He nodded in agreement. There was no escaping it.
He and his mother still had a serious and difficult conversation ahead, so he decided not to upset her now. In fact, he never intended to hurt or disappoint her—she was and would always be the dearest and most important person in his life.
Well… Aaliya had helped his mother with everything while he was away. She had become like a daughter to her.
She would probably continue to stay by her side now.
Damir glanced at the modest girl walking beside him.
Almond-shaped gray eyes, just like his mother’s, a round face, long light-brown hair braided neatly, a modest outfit, no makeup at all.
A complete contrast to the glamorous Moscow girls he was used to seeing.
The girl smiled shyly, and a blush lit up her plump cheeks, revealing faint dimples.
Damir liked her reaction to his studying gaze.
He smiled back with his dazzling smile and winked at her.
He didn’t rush to ask her out, but the thought had crossed his mind. He liked her.
They walked for about an hour, maybe even an hour and a half, chatted and laughed.
Then he walked her home, thanked her, and promised to call.
The girl walked away full of hope and dreams.
Meanwhile, he headed home, caught up in entirely different thoughts.
The next morning during breakfast, his mother said she had taken a few days off to spend more time with him.
That made him happy, and he decided not to put off the serious conversation any longer.
Sitting down on the couch, he asked her to sit next to him.
«Mom, why am I dark-skinned and don’t look like you?» Damir asked directly, looking into her smiling eyes.
She looked a little confused, and her smile began to fade.
«Am I?» she shrugged, puzzled.
«Yes. I’m different.»
Damir’s voice was calm but confident. He didn’t look away.
«Well, maybe it’s your father’s genes…» she said, trying to reason, not understanding what her son was getting at.
«But I don’t look Tatar. He was Tatar too, wasn’t he?»
«We don’t know who his parents were… they died young…»
Damir watched her with a half-smile, answering her assumptions with silence.
“I don’t understand, son,” the woman said in frustration, turning her whole body toward him. “What are you trying to say?! I’ve never been with anyone except my husband, and I know exactly who your father is!”
“Mom, calm down, come on. I never meant to suggest anything like that,” Damir assured her, gently patting her on the shoulder. But feeling her tension, he sighed and, after a pause, continued.
“I love you endlessly, and I always will. You’re my mother – and nothing will ever change that.”
She blinked quickly, and her fear only grew with every word he spoke.
He sighed again and turned away. His tongue wouldn’t move.
She sat there, waiting for him to finish.
What terrified her most was the thought of losing him.
He knew that – and that made it even harder to speak.
After