ANYA

Anya remembered when her father had started the family business. Not the illegal one but the legitimate one that was used to run the illegal one. It was still a business but if someone wanted to be technical about it. Thankfully Anya was not. However, if there was something Anya hated, it was the name that her father had chosen for their company: Farewell and Sons.

If you asked her brother Ivan, it was the legacy his father left behind.

But If you asked Anya that question, the name was a little sexist.

Thank god that Farewell and Sons was just a stepping stone for the Farewell Group. If Ivan hadn't solidified his place in the market, they would've been stuck with such a shitty name that had no business being in the 21st century. Despite it all she had to admit, the name was useful. Dropping names is a terrible habit in business but a necessary one, and Anya had learned over the years that their names could open doors that would be closed to others.

Was it a privilege? Yes. Did she care? No.

That was a double-edged sword. As long as it was useful.

Some names opened doors, some inspired fear, and other names were born of insignificance. But So much blood had been spilt because of their name, it might as well have been written in it. People only whisper about that name but they won't speak about it outright and the cops know that it's them who have control, not the law. But once in a while there will be a cop to put down and some rats to drown and then it's just another normal day.

To the public, they may have left the 'life' behind but not its methods and ideologies, not completely. Not yet. They were still very much the same but the face was different, like exchanging one mask for another. A  cleverly constructed masquerade. There's a lot of blood, a few morose deals under the table, and some illicit activities that need to be covered up.

It's business. Nothing more and nothing less.

Legitimacy had bought them something the other families could never have: safety and free reign. But it also bought in scavengers, trying to take pieces of their hard-earned success. Nothing in life came for free, not even morals and human decency.

Ivan never took it personally even if the other clans did. It was a job and he was the man who had to do it. Anya didn't either. She just followed her brother and helped him in his time of need.

His reign has been steady so far but with the loss of the previous Boss, tensions have grown because not all are willing to accept her brother that easily.

At first, they viewed him as too soft. With a fancy scholarly degree and a quiet attitude, he was not what they intended. Ivan knew that and used their assumptions as a weapon.

He liked it when people underestimated him. Anya has seen a sadistic and ruthless side to him that made her consider praying for her brother's soul but that feeling came as quickly as it went. In six months Anya had watched as he had launched a brutal campaign against the families and his men. Ivan's hands turned red with each uncertain day, his creased white sleeves stained in blood. Soon, they fell in line one by one like little toy soldiers once they learned that a man like Ivan Farewell was not to be underestimated or looked down upon.

He was, after all, the child of a gangster. But so was Anya. She was just ruthless in a different way.

'I feel like I'm missing something.' Anya thinks as she reads over the reports in her hand. The red marks on the pages stood out. 'What would Dad do?'

They have rivals forming. Her father would've dealt with them quickly. He'd crush them to dust and make sure they'd never rise to challenge his authority. That was his father's method.

Ivan's method was different. They were new, the product of a college degree and a sharp mind. And they kept his family from sinking any further than it had to. Anya saw the city like a chessboard, each district carved up by their families trying to protect what little power they had left. Their little territory was small but powerful, enough for others to try to covet it for themselves.

Ha! She'd like to see them try!

"Ivan," Anya said. Ivan acknowledges her with a mere nod indicating that he's paying attention. "Ivan," She repeats his name hoping that her brother will look up from the reports or his desktop. "Don't ignore me."

"Yes, Anya?" He said, finally looking up. His voice is hollow but his brows are furrowed together forming a pinched expression. The stress of his new role is evident on his face. "What is it now?"

She rolls her eyes at his tone but is too fed up to even counter him, instead she gets up from the couch and tosses a stack of files on his desk. It lands with a thud that makes him finally look up from his reports.

"What's this?" He asked with a tired smile. "A small gift to your big brother? I'm so flattered."

"No," Anya stated primly, pushing up the glasses that rested on the bridge of her nose. "Do you remember that hospital that we bought?"

"The one Zoya tried to outbid us on?" He grinned, picking up one of the folders. "Of course. How could I forget the look on that bastard's face when we won?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course, you remember that. Ever since Zoya's last tantrum, we need new doctors. The ones that we have are being overworked and every time we try to hire someone, they're either killed or back off."

"I thought Victor Gorik was handling health care."

"He quit. Now he's working for that hyena-faced bastard." Anya scowled at the mention of that man. "He's so useless."

"He was loyal. Perhaps I should visit him and remind him of what happens when you break my trust." His eyes flash with silent rage, his smile sharper than a lion's tooth. "Should I just kill him and be done with it?"

That was the kind of talk she was trying to steer Ivan away from.

Anya flipped her hair over her shoulder, half tempted to let Ivan loose on that moron. "Nevermind. We'll deal with him later." She waved her concerns away. "These are a list of new Doctors we can hire. I want you to go through them and choose the ones you think are well suited."

"Why me?" Ivan looked a bit perplexed at the files on his desk. "Why do I have to do it? I don't know anything about medicine. How am I supposed to run a hospital?"

"The corporate hospital was your idea." She clarified, tapping the pages with her manicured nail. "I just went out and won the bid for you. Now do something with it."

"I know but Anya, I don't have the time. Let someone else take care of that." He said, tapping his pen on one of the documents. The red marks on each paper meant that Anya would have to work double-time tomorrow. "There are more important matters to take care of. There's a shareholder meeting and we're appointing someone new to the board---"

Anya sits down in the chair opposite his desk exasperated, zoning out as he went on about business. She knew that Ivan wanted to be the best and prove himself but the stress was creeping upon him. Anya wished she had the wisdom her mother had but that wisdom is to be gained by experience rather than impatience. She leaned in, placing her arms one over the other on the desk. The circles underneath her brother's eyes had gotten worse, he probably didn't care about them but she did.

Damn her bleeding heart.

"Fine. I'll do it then." She said.

Ivan stopped, raising his eyebrow at her. Anya knew Ivan wasn't challenging her, he wouldn't dare. Many people have looked down on her, many of them didn't amount to anything and Anya pulled forward, ignorant of those who thought they were better than her.

"Are you sure? You already have three different projects and—"

"No. I'm certain." Anya nodded. "This one is mine."

Ivan gave her a small smile, pushing the stack of folders towards hers. "I couldn't think of anyone else more suited. You'll do amazing."

"Of course, I will." She fired back automatically. '"Who do you think I am?"

"A menace," Ivan said with a straight face.

Anya picked up a pen and tried to throw it at him. He easily dodged it. "And you're an overworked idiot who needs to relax. Take a walk, Ivan," Anya said, cutting him off. She left no room for argument in her tone. "And Take Nikolai with you. The last thing we need is for him to get into trouble again. I'll assign him to your security detail."

"No." He searched his desk for something, pretending to look busy. "I'm not going to babysit our brother just because he's acting out. He's a grown man. He can deal with the consequences of his actions by himself."

"More like he's babysitting you," she muttered under her breath.

"What was that?!"

"Go, Ivan." She said, the sternness bleeding through in her voice. "You can't decide what to do just by looking at some quarterly reports. If you're going to jump into a tank full of sharks, you better not be bleeding all over the place. What you need to do is take a walk, clear that giant head of yours, and come back in with fresh eyes. There's nothing to be gained by sitting on your ass all day."

He grits his teeth at that remark. He's frustrated, even Anya can tell. Everyone else must see it too. She wondered how many of their employees were cowering outside the office door. Anya made a mental note to give them another bonus for dealing with him whenever he was in one of these moods. Ivan sighs and gets up, a bit disheartened. He doesn't like being pushed around, especially by his older sister. It was difficult to go against Anya, she didn't leave anything to chance and she loved to pick a fight.

He puts on his coat, buttoning it up completely. It's amusing to see a tall and muscular man like Ivan sulk as he gets kicked from his own office. Anya places a hand over her mouth, disguising her laugh as a cough. It reminded her of when they were children and she used to boss him around like all big sisters used to do.

"Sometimes I wonder who's the head of the company around here, you or me?" He said with a small teasing smile.

Anya didn't have to wonder. It was Ivan and it would always be Ivan. Maybe, if she had chosen to stay in America instead of running away to London this would've been hers. But Anya would never trade in her freedom for this. This legacy, this company...it wasn't worth it.

She didn't envy Ivan at all.

She wondered if Ivan resented her for leaving it all on his shoulders. She pushed those thoughts away with ferocity, remembering everything she got in return for not choosing this life.

"Obviously, it's you." She rolled her eyes. Anya grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the door. "Get going, idiot. Or else I'll ban you from the building for a week."

"In name only, dear sister. You're the smarter one." He ruffled her hair as he walked past, chuckling when she tried to smack his hands away.

Ivan had always been a cheeky little shit. She gave him an unamused expression. "I'm wiser than you."

"By three years," he points out.

"Get out, you absolute fucking menace." She practically shoved Ivan out the door at this point. "And bring me a bagel and some coffee when you get back."

"Yes, ma'am."

As soon as Ivan left, Anya sat down in her chair with a huff. She combed over the messy desk and office, disapproving of piles of paper that seemed to litter every surface. She walked around his desk, sitting down in his chair. It felt weird to be sitting in the same place her father did. Anya couldn't imagine how Ivan felt.

There was a picture of their family on his desk. Her father used to carry the same picture in his wallet. She could tell from the white lines that slashed across the image. It unnerved her to see everyone so happy, this photo had been taken when life was more peaceful. Her hair had been longer and blonder when that photo was taken. She wondered how the young girl in that photo would react to what her family has become.

Ivan and she had shared similar traits; blonde hair and blue eyes. Those traits belonged to their father but everything else was from their mother.

Grief was complicated and this was the second time in her short life that Anya had to deal with it. The first being the death of her husband. The second being her father.

It had been almost a year since her father died. And she missed him dearly. The loss was acute, it never left her.  Anya knew that this was difficult for Ivan, not just him--difficult for their whole family as well. She coped better when she didn't think about it too much but distraction could only do so much when the physical ache of missing someone took over your body and soul.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, wincing as her fingers were caught in the pins. She plucked them out one by one, letting her hair fall in heavy strands around her neck and shoulder.

Mama never came out of her room these days, unless she wanted to take a walk through the gardens or visit dads grave.

Nikolai was so high-strung, he'd thrown a punch at anyone who looked at him wrong. His aggressiveness and anger seemed endless, Anya worried that he might end up doing something incredibly stupid.

Dimitri was in his room, playing his cello and getting lost in the sheet music. She had to pretend that she didn't hear it at night when the strings seemed to vibrate with her soul.

Irene didn't look anyone in the eye anymore, she was too scared to even speak up. She left to back to her boarding school as soon as the funeral finished, all teary-eyed and quiet.

Nat...well, that was complicated. Nat hasn't come home in months. Anya hasn't heard from her in so long. She was starting to get worried when her calls just went straight to voicemail.

And Ivan...

"What a fucking mess," she thought out loud.

Her brother was the worst affected. He wasn't prepared or ready for the role their father gave him. She always knew that one day he'd have to take over their little company but she never knew the cost it would have. Ivan had never been particularly interested in leading. He'd like to study and learn, he was a true scholar at heart. He wasn't meant to be a cold-hearted businessman with a gangster as a father. But he was a natural. He was good at taking on the role even if he didn't want it.

It hurt her to see her brother descend into this madness. Now he slipped into the pain and chaos like it was nothing. It was just another mask but she knew better. Ivan never liked to kill but he was unfortunately good at that too.

She hoped that Ivan was not like her father. Her father had killed, easily and effortlessly. He barely blinked at the blood on his hands. Years ago, he had sat them down in his study and recounted the first time he had killed a man. It wasn't the greatest of family meetings but Anya felt like she was going to be sick when she left that room.

In her mind, her father had two faces.

One was of a man who loved and cared for his family. The second was a monster who bathed in blood.

Anya's biggest fear is that Ivan would wear the second mask with the same ease too.

She felt pity for him, she really did. But there was nothing she could do.

That was the price of having a father as a gangster. That was a link you could never truly sever. The path they chose was paved in blood and bone. And they walked along with it because that was the only path they knew. Anya would never have any ambition for this sort of job and if her father was still alive, she'd be happily in London with her children and Ivan would be perusing his master's degree in some fancy college. She was here for Ivan and what was left of her family. Anya was doing her best to hold it together.

Her phone chimed in her pocket, sharply bringing her out of her macabre-like thoughts.

"I'm not in the mood for this," Anya muttered, scanning over the words. She had received a certain text message from a certain Italian Don. Either he wanted to annoy her or set her up with one of his useless sons for a business venture.

She rolled her eyes, wondering just what this man wanted from her now. Curiously, she responded.

He answered quickly.

She sighed. "Not this man again."

The old man, as she liked to bitterly call him in her head, had never lost his youthfulness not his affinity for mischief. It sometimes irked Anya. No one could be that callous or carefree without some ace up their sleeve.

Anya scoffed at his curt message. What was that old man planning now?

She never liked owning favours to anybody, she preferred having to do things her way than letting others do them for her. Unfortunately, that was not the case with Don Roma. Even at his age, he liked to surprise people.

Her curiosity won over. She opened the file that was sent to her, quickly scanning through it.

Anya had to admit that she wasn't expecting someone so young to apply for a position like this. The woman in the passport-sized photo was in her mid-twenties.

She looked tiny and innocent, nothing like her kin.

There were the basics. Height, weight, and eye colour didn't matter to her. Those details were irrelevant. She scrolled down further, her eyebrows raising at the list of credentials. Not bad. Not bad at all.And then Anya's eyes snagged on her background. It wasn't clean. Of course, it wasn't. None of the applicants was ever 'clean.' Most of them were desperate and useful. The application was interesting nonetheless. Not because of the credentials (although she was impressed by it) or recommendation, but instead by the name.

Dr Meera Saravana. Twenty-six years old. Trauma surgeon.

Anya knew that name. It was years ago. she had heard it in passing but the story behind the name was what made her intrigued.

"Life just loves to come full circle, doesn't it?" She closed the file and thought about it.

They needed doctors. Desperately. That was a fact. Their hospital was small, privately owned but top of the line. Only the problem was that no one wanted to work there. Farewell came with negative connotations that couldn't be ignored even with a large amount of money being offered. Their hospital was privately funded. Anya had lost count of the amount of time her men had found police sniffing around the perimeter since they acquired it, looking for something to pin on them. Luckily the man she chose to run the hospital was competent and the only illegal thing they've done there treated a few criminals.

It was a well-known place for people in their family to go to that hospital.

In the eyes of the public, they were a legitimate company. But to the rest of the families, they were sell-outs who had the best of both worlds. They were criminals and businessmen. But you couldn't have your cake and eat it. That's not how the world worked.

It had taken the death of their father for Ivan to pull the company out of the underground kicking and screaming. Anya wasn't naive. She could sense a war coming. Their past hadn't left them behind so easily. Their former life was creeping up on them slowly and surely, gaining ground and threatening to swallow them whole.

Ivan needed to be ready but that was why she was here for. 

She picked up her phone and typed back a response.

A moment later she got her response.

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