I know that without a doubt, I am, completely head-over-heels in love with this girl.
“Bless me father, for I have sinned. It has been two months since my last confession,” I intake a shaky breath before I continue. “I killed a man, father. It was to protect myself, my husband, and members of my family, but I pulled the trigger and my biggest sin, father, is that I feel no guilt over my actions.”
I spend the next thirty minutes confessing my sin to the priest at Timofei’s church. My penance is given to me, and I do as I’m told, hoping that God will forgive me of this great sin, a sin that could be unforgivable.
“Do you feel better?” Timofei asks as I walk out of the church and directly to his side.
Today, we’re going to pick our furniture for his office, and he’s informed me that he wants to be part of the selection process.
I shrug, not sure what to say. I didn’t feel badly to begin with. I know pulling the trigger was wrong, but I still don’t feel any guilt or remorse. I wonder if there is something wrong with me. I’ve felt badly about things before, and guilty for hurting someone’s feelings, but I don’t feel even a little bit bad for killing my own father.
“You can’t let it eat you alive, devochka,” he murmurs as he slips his hand around my waist.
“That’s the thing. I don’t feel badly at all, Fei. No guilt, no remorse. I haven’t even asked about a funeral because I don’t care,” I admit.
His lips press against my temple before he murmurs, “My Bratva wife.”
We spend the rest of the day shopping, until Timofei gets a phone call. “Now?” he asks as we’re driving toward home. “I have Devyn with me,” he rumbles. “Fuck, yeah, fine,” he grunts and he turns the car around.
“We have to go to The Oleandr,” he announces. I only nod, feeling that the air in the car has changed greatly. It’s now full of tension.
He speeds toward the restaurant, and I look at his hands, noticing he’s holding the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles are turning white. Then he turns and whips the car into a parking spot, throwing it into park before he turns to face me. His nostrils are flaring, and he looks so angry that I shrink back slightly.
Timofei reaches for me, his arm extending and his hand wrapping around the back of my neck, tugging me against the center console of the car as he leans forward closer to me. His lips are just a hair’s breadth from mine, and I can feel his warm breath washing over my face as I let my eyes flutter closed.
“Whatever happens in there, you keep at my side, and you don’t say a word, you got it?” he growls.
My eyes pop back open and widen at his angry tone. “Fei?”
“Stay by my side, you got that?” he asks.
I try to nod, but his hand has me held hostage. I verbally agree that I understand him, and then he rewards me with a slow and gentle kiss, a complete contradiction to the firm grasp he has on my neck.
When he releases me, his eyes look wild, and his fingers squeeze my neck before he completely lets go and gets out of the car. I wait for him, knowing that he’ll open my door and help me out. His chivalry is something I absolutely adore about him.
There is something huge happening, and I don’t know what it is. I shiver as Fei slips his hand to the small of my back and we begin to walk into the restaurant. His hand moves to my waist as he tugs me a little closer to his tall, warm body, and I welcome the comforting feeling.
We don’t stop at the hostess’s station. We walk all the way to the back of the restaurant into a small room. I’ve never been in this room before, but my breath hitches as soon as we cross over the threshold.
I’m the only woman in here, but that isn’t what has my eyes widening and my breathing off. It’s the fact that all five of my brothers are in attendance, along with Konstantin and a few other men who undoubtedly look like Bratva men, and then there are a group of four Italians. I can tell they’re not Irish or Russian by the olive tone of their skin. I can see that some of their skin is darker than others.
“What is Devyn doing here?” Aidan barks. I watch as his face turns red with anger.
“We were together, and I wasn’t about to just leave her,” Timofei states, cool and calmly as he steers us toward the table where the Italians are sitting.
He holds a chair for me, and I sit down. He pushes me closer toward the table before he sits down next to me.
I stay completely silent, happy to just take in the happenings around the room. My brothers come a little closer, and Aidan surprises me by sitting on the other side of me. Timofei’s men come closer to his back, and mine as well. Konstantin places his hand on my shoulder for a moment and gives a comforting squeeze before he drops it.
“I assume, although she’s here, we can speak freely?” the Italian asks.
He’s older, in his mid-sixties, perhaps. He has dark hair with a bit of salt and pepper around the temples. He’s handsome, and from the looks of him, he’s still fit with a square jaw and wide shoulders. His eyes are black, but they aren’t soulless. They actually look kind. They even soften when they pass over me.
“Yes, Devyn knows some of the situation. She’s also not been shielded from this life as most girls are,” Timofei announces. I feel my brother stiffen next to me.
“Obviously, shit has changed,” the Italian man states. “Patrick wasn’t on the up-and-up, and yet, I can’t say that I’m not surprised. I felt something was off; but my brother, he was all hot and bothered to marry a child,” he says, shaking his head. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and move my lip back and forth to keep from talking.
“Devyn is my wife, and I have no desire to have our union annulled,” Timofei announces.
His voice is harsh and his words are blunt and to the point, but I can hear the whispered truth. He loves me. He can’t say that here in this meeting, but I know them to be true. The Italian man nods and brings his hand up to the table before he taps on it with his fingers a few times.
Clearing his throat, he speaks. “The cancelled marriage isn’t a problem for me. My brother may be upset, but I’ll dangle a new young thing in front of his face and he’ll get over it. What is a problem is the agreement we had with Patrick,” he says.
“Guns and dope?” Timofei asks.
The Italian chuckles and shakes his head. “Guns and dope are nice, don’t get me wrong, but Patrick was going to combine women with us for a stable. Also, there was talk about laundering money for us. A combination of forces and a true melding of organizations,” he explains.
I LISTEN TO ANTONIO Rossi’s words and can do nothing but blink. Patrick had it all laid out, planned strategically to a point where I think that he really thought he could get away with everything. I wonder what girls he was planning on using as whores. He doesn’t have a stable, and finding a good group of girls isn’t an easy task.
Being a call girl isn’t for everyone, which was one of the reasons it wasn’t an option for so long as a Bratva girl. It’s easier to force it than it is to ask for women to come willingly. Luckily, we pay well, very well. The women who come to us are ones who enjoy the work and the money.
“What girls did he promise you? We don’t have a stable,” Aidan announces, taking the words right out of my head.
“He didn’t say. I assumed he had one. We have a large clientele for our women, but as men do, they want variety,” Rossi shrugs. “We also have a gambling room, and we need money laundered from that.”
“I didn’t know his plan, but I don’t see how we could help you with any of that,” Aidan murmurs.
Rossi clears his throat before he leans back slightly, turning his head to the man at his right, who looks like he is possibly his son. They murmur a few words back and forth while we wait.
“The last thing we want is war,” Rossi finally states.
Holding out my hand for him to stop talking, I interrupt. “Our stable is highly coveted, our women trained and extremely good at their positions. They’re also paid very well. Tell me about y
ours,” I demand.
Rossi’s eyes narrow slightly, and his chest puffs out a bit. “The same, Vetrov. They are paid well for a job that they are extremely talented at.”
“What if we made a deal with them. Put all the other shit to the side. I don’t wish to disrupt my operation, and Aidan can’t afford to disrupt any of his at the moment,” I suggest, knowing that I’m in the same position as Aidan and trying to keep my head above water right now.
“What kind of deal?” he asks, arching a brow and sitting up a little straighter.
I smile as I lean back slightly. “I have to talk to Yakov, the other Pakhan in this area, but what if we switched our women. Everybody likes variety, and our whores are predominantly Russian, as I’m sure yours are Italian.”
“An even trade?” he asks. I nod as my response, and he turns to his man again to discuss it.
Nobody speaks on my side of the table. My hand slips to Devyn’s thigh, and I give her a squeeze. I don’t wish to draw attention to her, since this whole fucking thing was centered around her. It seems that I’ve been able to shift it completely, which was my main objective.
“You add in some money laundering and I’ll have my attorney draw it up,” Rossi announces as he stands.
I follow suit and we shake on it. A gentleman’s agreement, but with binding paperwork to join.
I think about his words for a moment. It’s a decision I have to make. I want to keep peace, and Rossi has been understanding, so I decide to agree. “On the marriage and everything else, we’re good?” I ask.
I slip my hand into my pocket. I wrap my fingers around my switchblade as I wait for his answer, knowing that if I don’t like what he has to say, he dies right here and right now. I have four of my men at my back, and six Irish to his four. They’ll be dead before they even realize what’s happening.
“I’m old school. I don’t believe in divorce. When you’re married, it’s until death do you part. I never agreed with Patrick’s charade and his willingness to get your union annulled. My brother will survive. If he doesn’t like it, then it really doesn’t fucking matter. I’m the Boss,” Rossi shrugs with a grin. He looks at Devyn and smirks before giving her a wink.
“Let me know when the documents are ready. Of course, I’ll want to see the girls before the switch,” I announce.
“Same here, Vetrov.”
The Italians leave and Aidan turns to me with wide eyes. “You just promised to trade whores with them,” he states.
“You didn’t want to get into the skin business, did you?” I ask. He shakes his head as his eyes drift down to a still silent Devyn, then he lifts them back to me. “That was all very easy,” he murmurs.
“It was easy because Rossi isn’t an unreasonable man. He’s a good Boss, and a good man in general. My father was much like him when I was younger and they had dealings with each other often. Rossi won’t put his men at risk over something like a marriage. Not when it isn’t beneficial or wanted by both parties. He also knows that my crew will give his a run for their money if there is war. Sometimes you have to compromise for the greater good. Nobody wants a war over pussy if it can be avoided.”
“Vetrov,” he warns when I refer to his sister as pussy.
“I got the Italians from waging a war with you. I compromised by switching out some whores and cleaning some money. We don’t have to go into business with them for dope, or guns. Rossi will stand by his word, and he’ll keep his brother in line. Unless you wanted to recruit some talented, exquisite call girls to do a trade, I’d say you’re the winner in this situation.”
Aidan snaps his mouth closed, and I watch as muscle ticks in his jaw. At the end of the day, I’m officially his boss. If I tell him to sell skin, he’ll sell skin. If I tell him to work with the Italians, he’ll work with the Italians. And if I put one of my men in charge of his territory and knock him down a few notches, he’ll accept without an ounce of complaint.
I stand tall, my gaze never wavering as I wait for Aidan to say anything else. He doesn’t, and I lift my chin. “Your top officers and you are due for tribute next week. It starts at nine, here, don’t be late,” I grind out. He lifts his chin before he and his brothers leave the room.
“Do you think you just made a deal with the devil?” Konstantin asks.
I shake my head and turn to him. “Better the devil you know. Rossi is old school; his word is his bond. I trust him about as much as you can trust someone in this organization. Aidan won’t fuck with me. He loves Devyn too much,” I say.
Holding out my hand for Devyn, I wait for her to take it. Slipping her cool hand in mine, she stands. I slide my hand around her waist again. I tell Konstantin to be at the house first thing in the morning as the girls are planning on outfitting the kitchen tomorrow. He nods his agreement, and I guide Devyn and myself out of the room.
Once we’re alone in the car, I don’t head home. I need to eat and relax a bit before I’m home, and I know Devyn will pepper me with questions about what’s just happened.
I drive toward one of my favorite restaurants, The River Café, and it doesn’t go unnoticed that Devyn tenses as soon as she realizes we are not heading home.
When the valet opens my door, I step out, curious and still in a daze from the meeting less than an hour ago. Timofei silently grabs my hand, and we walk into the restaurant. I’m not sure what exactly we’re doing here, but when we enter and my nose gets a whiff of the delicious smells, my stomach growls.
“Hungry?” Fei chuckles. I narrow my eyes up at him, which only causes his smile to deepen.
We don’t have to wait long for a table and are seated near the back of the dining room. A waiter appears immediately, and Timofei orders a vodka for himself and water for the both of us. I frown, wishing that I could have some alcohol. After the afternoon I’ve had, I could sure use some.
“I have some good vodka in the freezer if you want some when we get home,” Fei announces, as though he can read my mind. “You have questions, and I’ll answer what I can.”
The waiter appears again and takes our order. Timofei allows me to order what I wish, and I decide to get gnocchi and lamb. He, however, orders a shellfish platter, lobster, and strip steak, informing the waiter that he’s still unimpressed with their selection of caviar, since none of it is Russian. The waiter laughs and promises to return shortly with our food.
“I didn’t know you had a stable,” I whisper the observation.
Timofei nods before he responds to my words. “It’s something the Bratva has always done, devochka. The oldest profession in the world,” he shrugs.
“I’m not comfortable with that,” I murmur.
Timofei grins, and my eyes lift to his before I narrow them. “Not laughing at you, Devvy. But honest to fuck, it doesn’t matter if you’re comfortable with it or not. You haven’t complained about having nice things. You pick out the furniture you like without looking at the price tag. The clothes you wear are all designer, and my ring that you wear costs more than some people’s homes. All these things come from money that’s unsavory. Suddenly, you’re complaining?” he asks.
Taking a sip of my water, I let the cool liquid fall down my throat before I decide to speak. “What if you took this opportunity, this takeover, as a chance to go legitimate?” I ask.
Timofei throws back his head laughing. If I weren’t so irritated at his response, I might stare in amazement at how handsome he looks when he’s truly smiling, or how sexy his deep laugh is. I don’t say anything, waiting for him to continue. He does, after he’s taken a gulp of his vodka.
“I love you, Devyn. I’m not in charge of the women, if you’re worried about that,” he says softly. His gentleness is sweet, but also a bit condescending.
“All of this, the death, the wars, and the sex,” I hiss the last word. “It could all be avoided, gone, if you weren’t in this industry.”
Timofei reaches across the table and takes my hand with his. “What’s the real problem, devochka?” he asks
. His face is completely serious, and I take a deep breath before I speak.
“Sitting in there, all those dangerous men surrounding me, and the way you all talked about everything as though it was just in a day’s work? Death, prostitutes, drugs, marriages, and money—it scared me.
I’m scared for you, Timofei. I’m scared for you and for me. I know how your mother died. I heard about it when I listened in on my father’s meetings. My own brother tried to kidnap me. I don’t want to be scared anymore,” I admit with tears shining in my eyes.
“Devvy,” he whispers.
The waiter interrupts us and sets our food down. The gnocchi and lamb don’t look as appealing as they did when I ordered them, but I start to eat anyway. Timofei and I consume our meals in complete silence. I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t look at him throughout the rest of my meal.
Timofei rejects the idea of dessert, and once the bill is set down, I hear him fumble around before he’s standing next to me. His hand reaches out, and I slip mine inside, allowing him to help me stand.
He helps me into the waiting car, and I watch him fold inside before he starts the engine and takes off toward our home. I wonder if he’ll ever talk to me again, or if he’s going to pretend this conversation has never happened. It wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve been ignored for simply being a silly female.
The car pulls into the garage, and I watch as Timofei touches some buttons on his phone before he turns to me.
“Go inside, the alarm is disabled,” he states.
I pull in a breath and turn to him. “Are you leaving?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m trying to calm myself down,” he admits. I nod, reaching for the door handle before his hand snakes out and he wraps his fingers around my wrist. “The fact that you’re a little jealous turns me on, devochka. The fact that you fear for your own safety while in my care concerns me greatly. I’m trying to deal with both emotions simultaneously. I just need a minute.”
I nod before I bite my bottom lip and then I turn to him. “I know that Dominik runs the call girls in their area. Inessa mentioned it. And I know that Konstantin has done it, but they aren’t mine. I didn’t know you did that too,” I whisper.
Betrothed to the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 8) Page 24
