Hello dear all :-) I am back from vacation and finally beginning to post and update this new story that is about Enna and Roman from "All you need is ME"

I really hope you'll enjoy it, since it's going to be different from my other stories and probably more mature and darker than usual, but hey, you should know me already by now ... :-)

Let me know what you think of this prologue and no worries, chapter 1 is coming in two days and with that the story will start at full pace.

On the right, the picture of the stars tattooed on the knees as Roman has.

Dedicated to all the fan of Enna and Roman and in particular to ladyafyon, thanks dear for being such a great fan!

Enjoy!

PROLOGUE:  KIEV, UKRAINE

“I have no family.

I have no past.

I have no friends.

I have no surname.

What is love? I do not know, because love for me does not exist. Not in my world.

I have no God nor do I believe in saints and angels.”

Those were the words that chanted inside his mind, while standing on his feet in that room. Those were the words they kept repeating him and that he heard since he had memory; they weren’t simple words related to his current life, but to his forgotten past. It was true what they said. He had no family, no past, no friends and knew no love.

Was he a shadow or a ghost?

No, Roman was far from being a mere ghost. Roman was a dark and deadly devil and he had been raised to take people’s life and correct wrong behaviour; therefore he could not be considered a shadow, but your worst nightmare if you ever decided to cross his path in the wrong way.

I apologize.

He was not simply your worst nightmare.

He was going to be your brutal end.

Inside the poor lit room the smoke of cigarette and of hookah had filled the heavy and hard air of that small place; you could smell the tobacco and you could feel it down your guts, rasping painfully your throat along with the pungent smell of vodka. A soft and monotone murmur chanted in the air and made the room seem smaller and more confining than it already was, but none of this registered into his mind and heart. It was his duty to be there and it was a great honour to receive the stars.

Did he feel anything?

Nyet, he felt absolutely nothing.

The young man stood there half naked in front of other men of the organization that were scrutinizing him and his tattooed body and discussing among each other about old codes and new business. That was the rising world: a medley of old criminal codes and laws, and innovative and recent rules to abide in order to crush your enemy and rise above anyone else. And to gain more money and territory.

Yes, it has changed in a way, but not so much. It still was a sadistic game of prey and prayer, kill or die.

Money and power were always what made the world spin around and nothing else.

Was this man here in front of those older men ready to receive the stars on the knees? Was he ready to become an Avtorityet, a captain you might say, and lead other smaller groups of boyevik? He was a former boyevik and one of the best. So dah, yes, he was ready and if boss says so, you stick with his final word.

The young man patiently and impassively waited for his fate and destiny to be inked, knowing he had no else to fulfil; his life was to serve the boss and the boss only and to lead the faction he had below his power and bring fortune and honour to the organization.

Nothing else.

He belonged to nobody and nobody will ever belong to him.

He had no creed, no faith, no religion and believed in no God, nor angels, saints or whatever the like you might believe in or pray in your quiet evening, pray when you seek for an answer or help when things and situation turned bad at you. This young man that lived for already twenty-six years had given his life to the boss and the organization, since he had no family, no love and no past.

That was right.

He had nothing, he was nothing and nobody. He had neither name nor surname, because his mother had abandoned him while little and his father was unknown, so what do you expect from such a lost child? To have a name, history and surname? No, he had nothing, better said, he had been stripped of his original surname, Kovalenko, and replaced with another inherent to the boss that took him and welcomed him in his big family many years ago.

What was his name again?

I believe it was Roman, as the intricate and dark blue tattoo said on his back, but only expert eyes could see it, because it was hidden by a huge Orthodox cathedral with three onion cupolas, to express how many years he had already spent in prison.

Dah, yes, this young man had not a clear and clean past.

Yes, he had several tattoos on his perfect sculptured body, under his defined and prominent muscles and over his cold and icy blood. He had, as already said, a huge Russian Orthodox cathedral on his strong and broad back, and somehow you could recognize his name written and hidden at the base of it; the Virgin Mary and the holy Jesus were inked at the centre of his chest that symbolized his young entrance to that dirty and illegal world and that stated the fact he will never betray his friends and his people. A rose on the right part of his chest was the typical first tattoo you receive when you join a gang or an organization and he had his first rose many years ago. The young man was a man of honour and he deserved the highest respect. He had a complex and elaborated tattoo forming on his left shoulder and running down his entire arm, reaching his wrist and giving the young man a darker and more dangerous aura.

Roman took the idea from the yakuza and changed it to fit the group in which he operated since he was ... he could not recall right now the exact time and year, but anyway long time ago.

It was old tradition to be tattooed in prison, because who had no tattoos did not exist. But Roman had no will to get inked by dirty and incompetent thugs and so hired from outside a real one and had the job done. Nobody dared to utter a word of disappointment or mutter disagreement, since who dared such a thing had paid painfully enough. He was the left hand of one of the most important and known bosses out there and you don’t become his left hand just for your pretty face and tight ass. No, you don’t.

The men kept observing and studying him, Roman, and asserted all sort of old customaries and decided he was ready because he had nobody and was son of no woman, because he only believed in the organization and had no mercy nor he knew love or pain.  

Was he ready for the stars?

Did he deserve such a great honour?

The stars at your knees were an event that deserved a proper ceremony and the consent of the oldest members of the family and organization. They study you and your no-existing story and decide whether you are capable to wear such an important mark or not.

And Roman was more than ready.

Roman entirely deserved the honour.

“Listen carefully boy and answer to our questions.” One of them said.

The young man only nodded impassive and feeling nothing inside.

“What is your name?” Another one asked.

“I have no name.”

“Eh-tah pravda, that is correct, you have neither name nor surname, but we allow you to keep your first name of Roman, but what about your family name?”

“I have no family and thus I have no surname, nor do I care to have one or keep it. I belong to nobody and this is the way I chose for myself. I do not know my mother and my father and they just left me alone when I was born. I will take whichever surname and name you decide to give me and will wear and keep with intact honour and gratitude.”

“Kharashò, well said.” The boss muttered satisfied, passing his callous fingers over his old and wrinkled face and pausing a moment to study the young man’s eyes. They had no life in them, they were cold and dark and dangerous. No, that is not correct. It was a lie when I said they had no life in them. They were full of its own burning life that it was per se a threat and menace for everyone else’s existence. “That is correct Roman, you belong to nobody and this shall never change. Do you believe in God?”

“I believe in no God, nor saints, nor angels. Nothing exists.” He passively and darkly said. Some old men nodded satisfied and some other almost shivered in recognizing the powerful and intimidating aura emitting from the half naked man they had standing in front of them.

“We believe you are ready to receive the stars.”

Roman slightly bowed his head only to his boss, ignoring everyone else in clear and arrogant purpose. He cared nothing about those old pieces of crap, they were just old and dusty pieces of ornaments you decide to show on special occasions; they held no real power or decision, only a traditional status that was about to turn into dust.

Old and new were about to clash and the fight was near, very near and that is why they decided to grant him the honour of the stars on his knees. They needed his talent and coldness and unbreakable loyalty. Some new groups from the Caucasus were rising and creating problems and it snaked the suspect of traitors.

“You shall kneel before no man or no one.” They all repeated at the same time.

“It is exactly as they said, Roman, you will kneel before no one and now let us begin with this.” At the boss’s words, the other old men nodded and shook hands and told the tattoo artist to begin the job.

Roman sat down and gave a nod to the other man as a permission to proceed and it all began. He simply stared at the needles and inks as if looking at a glass of water; he was feeling no emotions, even if he was supposed to feel gratitude and pride, nothing ran in his veins. Only cold and dark blood. The tattoo artist started to pierce his skin and then his flesh, but the young man never flinched and never changed his expression; he faced the pain with stoic and granitic face and it was impossible to guess what was going on in his mind.

What were his thoughts?

We could not know it; we had no right to ask him. They were his and only his, since they were the only thing he owned.

The job was done and the eight-point stars were inked on his knees. Now he was Roman that kneels before no one and he was the new Avtorityet, the new captain ready to serve the boss and the organization with his life to defend its territory and destroy its enemies.

This was going to be his inevitable fate and the path to follow.

But this was all before meeting an angel ... his angel.

Author's note:

I researched a bit about the tattoos, so to know about the meaning behing them, as you read on the prologue.

As you guessed, the stars are given to high ranked people inside the mafian organization, just like Roman.

You shall see some Russian words in the story, but no worries about that, I'll add the English meaning. Roman is Ukrainian, but he speaks Russian inside the organization because the boss is Russian, even though is based in Kiev. Chapter 1 is coming out soon and we'll learn more about our arrogant sexy man and then .... soon he'll meet his angel, Enna.

Until next time!