Iosif -To load

by Dahlen, K. J.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  CREDITS

  Bratva Blood Brothers

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  LOOK FOR

  ABOUT K. J. DAHLEN

  IOSIF

  Book Seven

  Bratva Blood Brothers

  K.J. Dahlen

  CREDITS

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, businesses and incidents are from the author’s imagination, or they are used fictitiously and are definitely fictionalized. Any trademarks or pictures herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners. Any trademarks or pictures used are specifically in a descriptive capacity.

  K.J. Dalen

  Iosif

  Book Seven

  Bratva Blood Brothers Series

  Copyright © 2018

  Editor: Leanore Elliott

  Book Design & Formatting: Wicked Muse

  Cover Art Provided By: Book Cover Luv

  Bratva Blood Brothers

  “We are brothers by choice. Blood has brought us together and will forever hold us strong.

  Brothers we are and brothers we will always be.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  Iosif Maxim sat at his desk in the ever-darkening shadows. He was sitting there thinking about his brother Roman. Over the last seven months they had reconnected, and he had gotten to know him again.

  When their father Timor had gone to find his lover, he found instead a small boy. Iosif had been alone when Timor came into the apartment in Moscow. He found out much later Roman had gone out to find food for the two of them after their mother abandoned them to save her own ass. He didn’t really remember much of the woman who gave him birth and right now that fact didn’t really bother him over much.

  But as soon as he’d seen Roman’s picture, the early memories of his brother began to come back to him. Roman had been the one he remembered from his early years. It had been Roman he felt connected to, but when Timor found him he’d been too young to let their father know Roman wasn’t there. His memories were fuzzy at best but as soon a she saw his brother’s photo he knew his eyes.

  Roman had survived all these years and had grown to be the kind of man Iosif could look up to. He’d found another family in the four men he called his brothers. That was both good and bad for Iosif. He was Roman’s true brother. The same blood ran in their veins but these other men? Not so much. He was often jealous of the bond they had.

  They shared something with Roman he could never hope to have. A bond that meant more to Roman than the bond the two of them shared. They were working on it but they weren’t there yet. It wasn’t that the bond they did have at one time was broken beyond repair, it was just buried in the memories they both had of a different life they had lived.

  Iosif’s lips tightened. Their father hadn’t helped. He thought he could go to America and demand that Roman come home with him. He thought Roman would simply submit to his demands and when he wouldn’t, Timor thought to bully him into it.

  Iosif chuckled as he remembered how far that had gotten him. That was one trait both men shared. Both were stubborn as all hell and they often butted heads when they came together. But Iosif knew Roman would never be a part of the life they had here. His heart wasn’t here but in a town in another country.

  Iosif got up and went over to the window in his office that overlooked the street beyond. He knew there was something wrong, he just didn’t know what it was. He’d become restless and it wasn’t like him to be so. Iosif had learned at a very young age how to be patient but this time the lessons he’d learned weren’t helping him.

  He’d been feeling a certain emptiness since they last returned from America. It was getting harder and harder to return after visiting Roman and Stevie. He and Timor were due to return in four days to be there for the birth of Roman’s son. Timor wanted to be there to witness the birth of the next generation since he had missed the births of both his own sons.

  Iosif’s phone rang and before he answered it he saw the caller ID said it was a call from Roman. “Hello.” Iosif grinned. “I was just thinking about you.”

  “Iosif, I have news to tell you.” Roman voice sounded almost joyful. He chuckled and informed his brother, “I’m sorry to tell you, you missed the birth. The babies came a few days early.”

  “Damn, what did you have?” Iosif asked. “Father will be so disappointed.”

  “We had boys.” Roman laughed out loud.

  “Boys?” Iosif repeated. “As in more than one?”

  “Da, I have two sons. Aleksei and Dimitri.”

  Iosif smiled. “Twins huh? But this is wonderful news, brother. And boys? Father will be pleased. We were going to leave in a few days but when he hears the news I’m sure we’ll leave here in the morning. He’ll want to welcome in the new generation of Maxim men.” He chuckled. “And Stevie? She is well?”

  “Yes, she is well. Tired but well. Neither of us knew about the second one until he showed up. Such a surprise.” Roman said with a smile in his voice, ignoring the part of the conversation where Iosif mentioned his last name.

  “But a welcome surprise I imagine.” Iosif grinned. He didn’t want to argue about Maxim vs Salizar right now. He just wanted to enjoy the happiness with his brother about the babies.

  “Oh yes, very welcome.”

  “Congratulations brother. I can’t wait to meet your sons.” Iosif rang off and while he was glad, he still felt as if he was missing something very important too. The restlessness in his soul was growing and he didn’t know what to do about it.

  He called his father right away to tell him the good news. As he predicted his father wanted to leave for America immediately. Then man was almost giddy at the thought of have two grandsons.

  The next morning on the plane Iosif looked out the window and had a strange feeling wash over him. It was almost like he was coming home. Russia had been his home all his life so he couldn’t understand this feeling. Frowning, he glanced around the private plane they were traveling on.

  It wasn’t as big as a commercial plane but it was much nicer. It would seat fifteen people with soft leather chairs and tables at different spots. He knew there was a bedroom at the back of the plane and a tiny galley for the longer flights they made but this was how he usually traveled and he thought to some it would be a luxury but to him it was just a way to get from point A to point B.

  Looking down at the suit, he was wearing. Armani and it has cost him a couple thousand dollars to purchase but as he had several more in his closet, he supposed he hadn’t really cared about the cost of it.

  Then a thought crossed his mind. He grew up with everything at his fingertips while his older brother scrambled and had to steal food in order to fill his belly. He grew up under the watchful eye of his father bodyguards while Roman grew up with no one to watch his back, except for the men he called his brothers.

  He’d never really thought about this fact before now and it was unsettling. He glanced over at the man he knew as their father. Timor Maxim. Timor was as tall as Roman and just as stubborn as he knew his brother was. Roman had gotten that much from their father but while Roman was more giving, Timor had grown rig
id in his outlook over the years.

  Iosif had seen this rigidness time and time again growing up with the man. He could accept it because it had always been part of Timor as far back as he could remember. He very seldom changed his mind once it was made about anything.

  Timor caught his stare and turned to smile at his youngest son. “It will be good to have babies in the house again. I can’t wait to hear the echoes of them running down the hall. I missed that with Roman but got to hear it with you. I miss that sound.”

  Iosif frowned. “Father, I doubt you will hear Roman’s sons running down the hall of your home.”

  “Nonsense, of course I will. When they move over here, they will live with us. That big old house has plenty of room.” Timor glanced out the window and smiled.

  Iosif’s eyes widened as the meaning of his father’s words sank into his brain. He didn’t say anything but instead looked out the window at the passing clouds. Iosif was worried now. He realized his father hadn’t given up on Roman returning home with them.

  He knew and accepted that Roman had another kind of life in America but Timor thought Roman would just give up what he worked so hard for and come back under his father’s thumb without question.

  One of the two men was in for an unwelcome surprise and Iosif knew it wouldn’t be Roman.

  he thought about the house he grew up in. It was just outside the major city of Astana, where Timor’s office was but they also had two other houses, one out by Tengiz Lake and the other further west near Shalqar. They stayed in all of them over the years and visited them when Timor had business in the area.

  Each house came with its own security men, men who would take a bullet for Timor. But this was something Iosif had grown up with as normal. It wasn’t until he got older when he realized exactly what the Bratva really was and really meant to the people.

  Bratva was a form of organized crime in Russia and its nearby countries. While they did many things the people they ruled over feared, they had learned to live peacefully under the rule of the Bratva. As with any group there were good leaders and bad. These men had the power of life and death at their fingertips and they answered to one man…Timor Maxim.

  But Timor didn’t rule the Bratva alone. Even the Bratva had to answer to someone higher than themselves. They answered to the High Council and Timor held a high seat in that council.

  Iosif had been training all his life to someday take his father’s place on the High Council as his family had done since the time they’d formed the council. Several generations of Maxim men had sat at the council and if Timor had his way, many more generations would do so.

  Iosif’s thoughts went back to the stories he was told about the way Roman grew up. Little more than a street urchin he ran the streets with no one caring whether he lived or died. While his brother had slept in an abandoned warehouse and shivered through the winter season Iosif had slept in a comfortable bed and had plenty to eat.

  Running his hands down over the lower half of his face Iosif wondered why Roman hadn’t hated them both when they first got together. He wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t have.

  Then he remembered the bond Roman had with his “brothers.” The four men he chose to call his brothers. They had lived through the hell Roman called his childhood side by side with him. They had also made it clear from the very beginning that they would stand beside him or even in front of him if he wanted nothing to do with his true brother and father.

  In a way, Iosif could understand this, but rather than push his way closer he was taking it one step at a time. The same couldn’t be said for Timor however. He had just bulldozed his way in and caused more problems than was needed.

  Not only that but when they did finally meet and Timor and Iosif met someone that meant a great deal to his brother, Timor had dismissed her without even giving it a thought. It had been his second mistake. His first had been not waiting for Sergi to tell Roman about his family. He could have cause irreparable damage there but Sergi had forgiven him, barely.

  That alone could have cause a great deal of upheaval within the Bratva. Having two very powerful men going head to head like this could have been a disaster and caused a civil war within the ranks. Lucky for them, Timor had backed down.

  Iosif realized that while Timor might have backed down to the National leader he wasn’t going to back down to his son. He still thought Roman was coming home with them one day, Roman and his sons. He still had dreams of Roman taking his rightful place and one day replacing him with the Council.

  Iosif should’ve felt resentment over this fact but he didn’t. He knew it was Roman’s place and he didn’t mind standing aside for his older brother, maybe that should have been his first hint that there was more to this story than he realized. Maybe this was the cause for the restlessness he was feeling now. Whatever this feeling was he was unsettled by it.

  While Kazakhstan was its own nation recognized by the whole world as such it was still part of mother Russia. Iosif hadn’t realized it until this very moment but the fact that it should be Roman not him who Timor was thinking of, didn’t bother him so much.

  All his life, there had been a shadow standing beside him. He hadn’t realized it growing up but Roman was that shadow. Not in a bad way, he was just there. Almost as if he was protecting him. He hadn’t known until he saw the picture that day in Sergi’s office. It was then he realized what had been missing all these years. He had a brother out there somewhere.

  When they came face to face Iosif felt he was home. He hadn’t said anything then and he still hadn’t acknowledged it to anyone but himself but deep down in his soul, he recognized being with Roman was like being home. He had memories of Roman caring for him and taking care of him.

  Peeking over at his father, he couldn’t help but wonder what Timor would do to him if he didn’t go back to Kazakhstan with him on the return trip. Iosif swallowed hard the more he thought about it.

  Even before they met Roman, he’d felt a restlessness he couldn’t explain. It had been almost as if he knew he wasn’t where he really needed to be. Rather than explore those feeling, he’d pushed them to the back of his mind. Now fighting those feeling was becoming a full time job.

  Settling back in his seat, he closed his eyes and tried to rest. This was one long ass trip and he knew when they arrived, the first thing his father would want was to see his grandsons. Iosif only prayed that this trip would go smoothly and Timor wouldn’t cause any trouble. He rolled his eyes. A foolish wish.

  CHAPTER TWO

  When the plane touched down in New Orleans and the door opened, they could see Yuri and Mikial standing there waiting for them. Both men smiled as Iosif came down the steps and they both reached out to shake his hand. However, it wasn’t the greeting they gave to Timor.

  Timor tended to dismiss people he didn’t think were important as he was and he began to do it here as well until he caught Iosif’s raised brow. Timor looked over at the two men and finally held out his hand. Yuri and Mikial shook hands and then they loaded their luggage into the car.

  On the way to Roman’s house Timor commented, “Oh, this is such a joyful day. The Maxim name will continue to a new generation.”

  Yuri checked the rear-view mirror and caught Iosif’s eye. Iosif shook his head quietly and Yuri’s lips tightened but he didn’t say anything. Yuri glanced over at Mikial and noted the same sour look on his face but neither of them said anything.

  When they pulled up in front of Roman’s home, Timor went immediately to his front door while leaving it to Iosif, Yuri and Mikial to get his bags and bring them to the house.

  “Does he really mean to call Roman’s children Maxims?” Yuri had to ask.

  “I’m not sure,” Iosif admitted. “Sometimes I think he’s dreaming about how life should have been, not how it really was.”

  “You know Roman will never go home with him, don’t you?” Yuri asked.

  Iosif nodded. “Yes, I know this and there are times when I almost envy him
that choice. Our lives have been so different that I still can’t believe we are brothers.” He paused then added, “My father though, once he knew about Roman has never stopped looking for him. It took him four long years to find him but he never gave up.”

  Yuri glared at Iosif. “I won’t allow him to disrupt Roman’s life here.”

  “And I’m not asking you to do that.” Iosif nodded. He looked around the property and felt this place could be home for him as well as his brother. He chuckled and asked almost as a second thought, “Could you use another brother?”

  Yuri glanced over at Mikial with a quizzical look. Then he looked back at Iosif, “Your father would blow a gasket if that ever happened.”

  Iosif nodded. “I know, that’s a real kicker isn’t it? It wouldn’t matter what we really want, only what he wants.”

  “Roman’s children carry his name not Timor’s,” Mikial mentioned.

  Iosif looked over at them both. “His name is Salizar and as much as Timor doesn’t like it, that’s the way things are. Our parents were never married. When I was born my last name was Salizar as well. But since the day he found me, he’s always called me Maxim. I grew up with that name because I never knew any better. Legally, I am a Salizar but Timor won’t see that or even acknowledge it.”

  “Then let’s hope he doesn’t cause any trouble while he’s here,” Yuri warned. “I’m not sure Roman has forgiven him from the first visit you two had.”

  Iosif chuckled. “If you think Roman was furious you should have spent the next twelve hours stuck on the plane with my father. He was seriously pissed at the whole situation. He couldn’t understand why Roman didn’t want to come home with him. He put the entire blame on Stevie and Ben.”

  Yuri growled. “What the fuck?”

  Iosif nodded, “Oh, the four of you caught some of the flack too. Everyone was to blame but him. It took a whole lot of talking to bring him down.”