Dancing for the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 3)

by Hayley Faiman

  I lie down and curl under the bedding. Closing my eyes, I dream of our wedding day. In less than a week, I am going to be Mrs. Kirill Barysheva.

  The next morning, I wake up feeling better than I have since before the accident. I sleepily rub my eyes and shuffle into the kitchen to start some coffee. I jump when I hear Haleigh’s voice float through the air from the breakfast table.

  “Are you going to dance?” Haleigh asks as her cheeks pink at the question.

  She’s feeding a very hungry little Maryia some bananas and eggs and looking right at me, waiting for me to answer.

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about it. I don’t think so. Kirill doesn’t mind if I dance, but I don’t have to anymore. When I started, it was because I needed to make as much money as I could as quickly as I could to support us. Then, when Kirill found us, it was a defiance thing, a security blanket just in case we didn’t work out,” I admit, looking down at my bare feet.

  “I understand that. I thought when I gave up ballet that I would lose myself. I imagined I would just be this puppet for Maxim to control, that I would be something he would only take off of my dusty pedestal from time-to-time to show off. I didn’t know that we would turn into something else entirely,” she murmurs as if she is thinking about her lover.

  “You’re partners,” I suggest.

  “Partners, best friends, and lovers. It’s the best feeling in the world to look at Maxim and know, after all of the shit we’ve been through, that we’ve made it—together. We’re stronger than we have ever been, probably stronger than we ever could have been had we not gone through our own version of hell together.”

  “Are you pregnant again?” Emiliya asks from the kitchen’s entrance.

  “What?” she asks with wide eyes.

  “You get very sentimental when you’re pregnant,” Emiliya shrugs.

  “Because you aren’t ever sentimental about Radimir?” Haleigh asks, scrunching her nose up.

  “Radimir and I weren’t a match made in love. I had to fight for him, you know that,” Emiliya says as her back straightens.

  “Face it, none of us has had a match made in initial love. Not even Tati and Kirill. We’re all a product of this life, this organization,” Sonia interjects.

  “Just because you aren’t a match made in love doesn’t mean you can’t grow to love and appreciate your partner. I would rather have my Yakov then try and find another man. There is so much cruelty out there,” Ashley says softly.

  “I’m sorry, I’m being bitchy,” Emiliya murmurs.

  “What’s wrong?” Haleigh asks, concern etching her features.

  “I’m pregnant,” she says as her eyes water.

  “Oh, how exciting,” Sonia gushes.

  “I can’t have another baby. Not yet,” Emiliya says as she starts to cry. She’s holding baby Rad to her chest, and I quickly take the little bundle from her.

  “You’re tired,” Sonia coos, wrapping her arm around her.

  “So tired,” she sobs.

  “Let me take him tonight. You need your sleep. We’re all cooped up in this house, it’s the least I can do,” I offer, looking down at the sweet baby in my arms.

  “I can’t let you do that. You just got out of the hospital,” Emiliya sniffles.

  “You can and you will. Kirill has already announced he would like more children, so I’ll need the practice. And I’m going to practice starting now. Write down his schedule for me and then take yourself to bed for the day,” I order. She starts to open her mouth, but Sonia interjects.

  “We’ll be together, cake testing, all of us. Alex will stay here with you and you can rest easy knowing that three mothers are watching after your sweet bundle,” she says. Emiliya’s eyes tear up again and she nods.

  “Does Radimir know?” Haleigh asks, chewing on her bottom lip.

  “I found out last night,” Emiliya admits as she shakes her head.

  “He’ll be so happy,” Haleigh whispers. I watch as Emiliya nods.

  “He will. I’m happy, too, I’m just so tired. Rad doesn’t sleep much, and I’m feeling overwhelmed,” she confesses as she writes his schedule down.

  “It’ll get better, I promise,” Haleigh says, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

  Haleigh would know; her two children are still small. It’s been so long since I’ve had a baby. I remember days and nights being difficult, but I don’t remember every aspect of it all.

  We all urge Emiliya to go back to bed.

  I look over to Ashley, who watched Emiliya walk away, but not in concern. No, there is something else in her eyes—longing. When she turns back to us, I furrow my brow at her in question. She shakes her head and I don’t push. Then we all separate and get dressed for a morning full of tasting delicious cakes.

  “You need to have an entire house full of sweet babies,” Sonia coos as she walks into the bakery in front of me.

  “Why do I need to have them all?” I ask.

  “Because look at how lovely Kiska is. You two make gorgeous children,” Sonia says as Kiska blushes.

  Kirill has taken Kiska out of school until it is safe for her return, though the school is very safe, he’s erring on the side of caution until he’s finished doing whatever it is that he’s out doing.

  “You need grandchildren,” I murmur as I take Rad from her arms.

  We spend the next hour tasting cakes and designing the simple wedding cake for Saturday. In only days, I’m going to walk down the aisle to finally become Kirill’s wife. It’s a day I truly never thought would happen. I’m excited and nervous all at the same time. Rad squirms in my arms and Kiska comes up closer to me and touches his little baby nose.

  “Will you and papa have more children?” she asks quietly.

  “Would it bother you, to be a big sister?” I ask. Suddenly, I realize that I haven’t asked her how she feels about the concept.

  “No, I would love it. Miss Sonia is right. Papa needs more children,” she says with a grin.

  “Just him?” I ask, arching a brow.

  “I think—I think it would make him happy if you had more,” she murmurs.

  “But how would that make you feel, Kiska girl?” I ask, trying to dig deeper inside of her. Kiska is always so hard to read, much like her father.

  “It would feel good. Like we were always meant to be together, to be a much bigger family than we are. I can help and teach him things.” She shrugs.

  I look at my girl, my sweet, affectionate, strong girl, and I smile. I never imagined that we would be where we are right now, but I can tell that Kiska is happy. She’s much more outgoing and social than she used to be, and she’s making friends at school. Her transition has been a positive one; and as a mother, it is more that I could have ever dreamed of for her. Then, there’s her ballet—something I never dreamed she would love as much as she does.

  Watching her grow into this young lady has been a beautiful thing.

  We all head back to the house, not wanting to spend the day out and about. In just a few short days, I’ll be getting married, and as excited as I am—I am also nervous as hell. My hair still makes me self-conscious along with my arm being in a cast, and our pictures will last a lifetime; but Kirill doesn’t want to wait. Deep down in my heart, I don’t want to either.

  I want to seize the day and marry the man I have waited a decade for.

  I DRESS IN MY tactical pants and boots. Today is the beginning and hopefully the end of war. Though, we don’t know exactly what we will get out of the Capos once we capture them. I’m hoping to get these fuckers completely out of my territory. I lift my chin to Ziven as I finish sliding my shoulder holster on, slipping each one of my handguns inside.

  “I want to see him,” I grunt.

  “Come,” Ziven says, jerking his head to the side to follow him. I do, closely, as he goes inside of a room.

  Ex-Federal Agent Ryan Green is sitting on a chair, tied and handcuffed with nowhere to go. His eyes widen as he sees me approach h
im. He’s worthless, just the slightest bit of torture had him singing like a bird. It’s no wonder the feds were quick to fire his pansy ass.

  “Green,” I growl. I watch as he cowers. I ignore his sad state before I continue. “Is there anything else you want to go ahead and tell me before we start this shit storm?”

  “Fuck you,” he mutters.

  I grab a fist full of his hair and wrench his head back. It has to hurt, as he’s whimpered and his jaw is clenched, but I really don’t care if I’ve hurt the pussy bastard.

  “Excuse you?” I ask grinding my teeth together.

  “No, nothing,” he mumbles.

  I don’t believe him, but I’m tired of the game. Ten years is long enough. He’s tried to ruin my life; he’s taken my family from me and tried to make my woman his own. I’m done with him, but unfortunately for him, I only have about an hour to play before it’s time to leave for my mission.

  I release his hair and take my knife out of my pocket. Ziven and Maxim are in the room with me, and neither of them say a word as I point the sharp blade at the fucker’s chest.

  “I told you everything I know, please make it quick,” the pussy begs.

  “You told me what I wanted to hear, but I don’t think it’s everything. You also tricked Tati into leaving me and tried to keep her for yourself, and you attempted to do the same thing to one of my other associate’s wives. No, I don’t think I will make anything I do to you—quick.”

  I think about how I want to kill him; it shouldn’t be a difficult decision, since I have thought about it for many years. In the end, I decide to remove all of his fingers and then his teeth. Unfortunately for me, he passes out once I have finished with his fingers and I don’t have time to let him rest and wake up. I have other shit to do.

  Once I’ve removed his digits and teeth, I gut him like a fish and watch his insides spill over his lap. It should feel more satisfying, but it doesn’t. Not entirely. Once he’s unrecognizable, I have Ziven call for a few of the guys to clean up the room and the body.

  “Did it feel good?” Ziven asks.

  “It should have felt better,” I mumble.

  “It’s not as much fun when they’re helpless and pussies all at the same time. I thought you were going to wait until after we captured the Capos?” Ziven asks.

  “Got anxious,” I grunt as I get myself together again to leave.

  Once Green’s mess is cleaned up and disposed of, it’s time for us to roll out to the meet. A text comes in from MadDog that they are all in position, so we quietly make our way to the appointed spot and span out in a huge circle before we slowly make our way toward them. The sniper shooters have been set up and ready for hours, since they are up high and far away.

  “Who are the Capos?” Radimir asks as we get closer to the spot.

  “See those men in the middle, surrounded pretty much on all sides by others?” I murmur. Radimir nods. “Those are the Capos, protected by their men,” I chuckle.

  “For five more minutes,” he grunts.

  We train our guns as back up and wait. Ziven murmurs the thirty second warning and then what feels like a second later, I watch as all the men that surround the Capos fall to the floor and ten men, a mix of five bikers and five of my men, grab the Capos, two men on each Capo.

  They’re all too stunned to fight, and when I walk into the circle of dead bodies, I look over to MadDog who is grinning back at me. I know that we’ve been completely successful.

  MadDog lifts his chin to his men and I do the same, our silent signals to take them to the clubhouse grounds, to their warehouse, for further questioning.

  “That went smoothly,” MadDog smiles.

  “It did. What was this meeting about?” I ask, knowing that they at least found out some information from the Capos before we barged in.

  “They want us to start trafficking people instead of drugs,” he grunts.

  “People?”

  “For sex trafficking,” he murmurs and looks down at his boots before he spits on a dead body.

  I blink as I fully process his words, as I let them sink in. It is as if the past is rearing its ugly head. We’ve just cut back our own operation of such things, of our girls. Sure, we still have stables of whores, but it is nothing like it was even just five years ago.

  Children aren’t ripped from their homes any longer, just for simply being born into the organization. Now, the women aren’t forced to sell themselves, and they aren’t sold to men, either. It is all voluntary, and the girls are protected by our men, now that Ivan’s reign has been demolished.

  “Where were the girls to come from?” I ask as I swallow the lump in my throat.

  “I didn’t get that far. They were evading my questions,” MadDog admits.

  “Then we torture it out of them,” Radimir grins. It’s fucking terrifying.

  The men stay and dispose of the bodies while MadDog and his closest crew head back to the clubhouse with us following behind their bikes.

  “That was easy,” Maxim murmurs.

  “I agree,” I nod.

  “Too easy,” Maxim adds.

  “This was the easy part. Whatever happens next, after we work these Capos over, that is the part that will not be so easy,” I grumble.

  “Human sex trafficking,” Maxim says as he stares out of the window.

  “We’ll find out as much as we can. We won’t facilitate it, Maxim,” I offer.

  I know he is thinking about his sister, Maryia, who was sold as a young girl to Ivan Chekov, Emiliya’s father. She was used for many years before Maxim was able to locate her. Then, she was taken in retaliation and tortured before she was finally killed, freeing her of her pain.

  “No person should be forced to do anything,” he says, resting his elbows on his knees.

  As a child, Maxim was forced into the Bratva organization, as were many of our men and colleagues. At the time, boys were taken from their parents’ homes and raised to be soldiers; girls were taken to be sold and whored out.

  It was a very dark time in the organization, and nobody knew the sources or how to stop it. Not until Maxim, Radimir, and Sergei figured it out and ended the reign of terror. Though most of the Bratva is still archaic, at least parents don’t live in fear that their children will be taken from their beds any longer.

  “No, they shouldn’t. But we can’t be the vigilantes of the world,” I say gently.

  “I know,” he sighs as we pull up to the clubhouse.

  Together as a team, we walk into the warehouse where the five Capos are hanging with their wrists tied to hooks from the ceiling. They don’t look so badass hanging from the ceiling.

  “Any questions?” MadDog asks with a grin.

  “What is your problem with us? Why have me watched for ten years?” I ask the man who looks to be the strongest of the five.

  “Piece of shit,” he grunts.

  “I’m not the deadweight hanging from the ceiling. I’d start talking,” I shrug.

  “Fuck you,” he spits.

  Without a word, I take the pliers that I just used to pull Green’s teeth out, and I quickly shove it in the guy’s mouth and yank a tooth out before letting it drop to the floor. He cries out and I wait.

  “We want your territory,” he spits as blood flies everywhere. What a pussy.

  “So for ten years, you watch me? That doesn’t make sense,” I murmur, mostly to myself.

  “That agent was obsessed. He kept tabs and fed us information. We didn’t want to watch you; we were watching your operation. Watching where the children went,” he grins.

  “And?”

  “We were buying them and then collecting our own children to build our armies. Your man, Ivan Chekov, was a fucking genius.” I step back as if he’s physically punched me.

  Buying our children. Our girls, because the boys have been kept as soldiers.

  “Where are the girls?” Radimir asks, his voice cold and deadly.

  “Everywhere. You’ll never find all of th
em, no matter how hard you try,” he laughs.

  Maxim roars as he charges him and shoves a knife in the base of his throat and slices his chest wide open, down to his pelvis. We all watch in silence as the man’s insides spill out onto the warehouse floor.

  Maxim’s chest is heaving as he looks at the blood and body organs on the concrete flooring, then he turns his head to the side and looks at me straight in the eyes, anger and fear radiating through them.

  I don’t say a word.

  Girls. Our girls. Sold.

  “My father, the sick fuck,” Yakov grunts.

  My eyes scan the four other Capos who are looking at their colleague’s blood and guts on the bottom of the dirty warehouse. Then MadDog walks up to me.

  “You can kill them all, but you need to get as much information as possible, including where they’ve been taking the people,” he murmurs. I nod in agreement.

  “Sergei, have you found any information while going through Ivan’s belongings?” I ask.

  “Nyet. Whatever he did with these transactions, he didn’t keep any paper or electronic trail,” he says.

  “Torture them. Whatever information you can get out of them, I want it.” I sigh, looking over to Pasha and then Sergei.

  Normally, they would not take commands from me, but we are working together, we don’t know who to trust and I trust them as they trust me. Plus, I think they like to get their hands dirty, at least based off of the gleam each of them has in their eye at my suggestion.

  Maxim, Radimir, and I leave the rest of the men to their work. I’m tired. I’ve seen enough blood for the day and I need to breathe. The news has hit me harder than I could have imagined.

  Though I know that our girls were sold, I never imagined it would be to other organizations. Does that make it worse? Does it even matter? I don’t know. I want to say no; they were sold into horrific lives no matter who it was, but the fact that they were bought by the Cartel, that Ivan would sell them to the Cartel, it feels like an even bigger betrayal.

  “They’re all over the world,” Maxim murmurs.

  “They are,” I nod.

  “With no paper trail, we’ll never find them, no matter how hard we try. No telling how many hands they’ve all been passed through,” Radimir points out.