he Snow Burns Red

Chapter 1 – Moscow, 1993: The Silence After the Collapse

The Soviet Union had fallen, and with it, the old order turned to dust. The streets of Moscow were lined with black-market dealers, ex-soldiers selling their medals for vodka, and young men with nothing to lose.

Among them was Alexei Morozov, a 26-year-old ex–army mechanic, who had come back from the Afghan war to find nothing waiting for him — no job, no home, not even the promise of bread.

He watched his country crumble, and in that silence, a new empire began to grow — not one of flags and factories, but one of guns, cigarettes, and fear.

That empire had a name whispered in every alley: “Bratva.” The Brotherhood. The Russian Mafia.

Chapter 2 – The Brotherhood’s Shadow

Alexei met Dmitri “Bear” Ivanov, an old friend from the army, who now drove a black Volga and wore a leather coat worth more than a year’s salary.

“There’s work,” Dmitri said, lighting a cigarette. “Not honest work. But it pays.”

That night, Alexei rode with him — delivering “packages” and collecting “debts.” He told himself it was temporary. But in Moscow’s winter, temporary sins freeze into permanence.

Within months, Alexei was one of them — a man of the Bratva, loyal to Viktor Sokolov, the gang’s quiet but ruthless leader. Viktor was the kind who didn’t shout; he simply looked at you, and you’d confess everything you ever did wrong.

Under Viktor’s guidance, Alexei learned the rules:

Loyalty before blood.

Money before mercy.

Silence above all.

Chapter 3 – The Girl from the Café

One evening, during a collection in the Arbat district, Alexei stopped at a small café to escape the cold. There, he met Anya, a young pianist who played for tips. Her music didn’t belong in that world — it was soft, fragile, and clean, like snow untouched by boots.

He sat every night in the corner, listening. They talked — first about the weather, then about dreams. Anya wanted to leave Moscow, to play in Paris.

“You can still dream?” Alexei asked one night.

“That’s the only thing they can’t steal from me,” she smiled.

For the first time in years, Alexei felt something other than fear. He began to imagine another life — one without blood on his hands.

Chapter 4 – The Debt of Blood

But the mafia has no exit doors.

When a rival gang attacked one of Viktor’s warehouses, Alexei was ordered to find who leaked information. The traitor turned out to be Mikhail, another soldier from their old unit — a man who once saved Alexei’s life in Afghanistan.

Viktor’s voice was calm:

“You know the rule. No witnesses. No exceptions.”

Alexei’s hand shook as he pointed the gun. Mikhail’s last words were:

“They’ve already taken your soul, brother. Don’t let them take your heart too.”

He pulled the trigger. Snow fell silently over Mikhail’s body — red melting into white.

That night, Alexei didn’t go to Anya. He sat in his apartment, washing blood off his hands, realizing no amount of water could make them clean.

Chapter 5 – The Last Promise

Months later, Viktor planned a massive arms deal with Chechen rebels — one that could make them untouchable. Alexei wanted out.

He told Anya everything. She begged him to run away with her to St. Petersburg, then to Paris.

“Leave it all,” she said. “They’ll kill you if you stay.”

“They’ll kill us if I leave,” he replied.

Still, he promised — one last job. Then freedom.

Chapter 6 – The Betrayal

The deal went wrong. The Chechens were tipped off — someone within the Bratva betrayed Viktor.

Gunfire turned the snowy warehouse into a battlefield. Alexei dragged Viktor out, bleeding from his chest.

Before dying, Viktor whispered,

“Anya... she told them. I heard her name.”

Alexei froze. His heart refused to believe it — but in the Bratva, even love can be used as a weapon.

When he found Anya at the train station, she was crying. She swore she only spoke to a man who promised her passports — she never knew he was a spy.

Alexei lowered his gun. Tears burned his eyes. He wanted to forgive her.

Then Dmitri appeared from behind — gun raised.

“Orders,” he said softly.

The shot echoed through the station.

Chapter 7 – The Snow Burns Red

Anya died in his arms. Her blood stained the snow like a crimson flower blooming in winter.

Alexei turned his gun on Dmitri — his last friend — and fired until the magazine clicked empty. Then he sat there, holding Anya’s lifeless hand, until the police came.

When they took him away, he said only one thing:

“She was my way out.”

Epilogue – Moscow, 2003

Ten years later, a guard unlocked a prison cell.

Alexei Morozov walked out — gray hair, tired eyes. The city had changed: shiny cars, new buildings, and a new kind of corruption wearing suits.

He walked to the same café. A young girl was playing the piano — a song that sounded just like Anya’s melody.

He stood there, silent, letting the notes fall like snow.

And when a single tear rolled down his cheek, it vanished before it reached the ground —

because even in winter, the snow still remembers the blood it’s seen.