@fcrgery / ‘prokopenko’
“ everything you see, i’ve made myself, actually. i wasn’t born into this, you know. ” kavinsky leans back in his arm chair and smiles, as if reminiscing. of what? there’s only violence in his trail, and more violence tucked in the shadows he casts. “ my father was a simple businessman. until he fell in with the mob, of course, but he never amounted to anything... ” he waves his hand dismissively, “ big. he was never anything close to being on top. ” kavinsky chuckles, light, amused, his eyes fixed in the distance as if reliving fond memories while he speaks. “ i killed him. my father, i mean, although i also killed the previous boss. ” only now his hawkish eyes find prokopenko’s face, eager to read a reaction off it. there is no other reason he says these things, there is no reason he should know except to know kavinsky, to know what he is capable of. is he impressed? scared, even?
“ i had to, really. had to replace all of his guys with my guys, you understand. you can’t really rise in another man’s ranks... ” there he smiles, as if it’s the first time he catches himself admitting to something he rather shouldn’t have. prokopenko has risen to his station from as good as nothing, that much is sure, so while he’s being so candid he should really correct himself while he can. he pats prokopenko’s hand, to acknowledge what they both are thinking. “ ... at least not to the top. ”
