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“You’re marrying Dmitry Nikolaev, the newly-crowned don of the Nikolaev Bratva,”
Everything has changed now. Father is gone. That means Gavriil has been promoted to my underboss. Bastien is chief brigadier, the head enforcer. And I am now the don of the Nikolaev Bratva.
So, in front of God and the priest and the law and all the assembled mafiosos of New York City, I blurt out, “I absolutely fucking don’t.”