Ivan laughed, finding his father's reaction both amusing and pathetic. "Terrible? You and I are cut from the same cloth. The only difference is that I don't hide behind a mask of righteousness."
Mr. Mikhail shook his head, his hands balled into fists. "No. No we are not. You're just a monster. You are going to end up destroying this pack, I can already see it."
Ivan's smirk widened. "Monster or not, I'm ready for whatever you have in store. And the only person that will destroy this pack is you, father. But anyways, keep sending your men, and I'll keep delivering their bodies back to you, just like this one."
Mrs. Svetlana, visibly distressed, tried to intervene. "Please, Ivan, this needs to stop—"
Ivan raised a hand, silencing her. "Stay out of this, Mother. This is between me and your deranged husband. Interfering isn't going to solve anything"
