Living for the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 4)

by Hayley Faiman

  O’Neil only has one man at his side, plus the three men who frisked us. I have no doubt that he has more men stowed away in this pub if something goes down. Just as I have more men surrounding the building, at this very moment.

  I sit down, as does Pasha, but Dominik stays standing behind us. Patrick eyes all three of us before he pours a shot of whiskey and swallows it in one swift motion.

  “Drinks?” he asks.

  “Sure,” I say, answering for all of us.

  O’Neil pours us each a shot and, out of respect, we all swallow the vile liquor down. I’m fairly proud of myself for not shuddering in disgust.

  “You wanted a sit-down, you got it. Now what?” he asks. The fucking balls on this asshole are gigantic.

  “I want you out of Staten Island,” I say.

  O’Neil and the man at his side start to chuckle. I don’t join them, because I’m dead fucking serious.

  “We’ve been here a hell of a lot longer than you vodka drinking Russians,” he says after he stops laughing.

  “Perhaps, but I want the entire territory now,” I shrug.

  “Now?” he asks raising his brows.

  “Yeah—now that one of your men shot four bullets into my body, kidnapped my wife’s Byki, along with his family, and executed them in the living room of my apartment. I can’t work beside baby killers, and I refuse to share any type of border with you,” I say, feeling the anger rise throughout my system. At the same time, I’m trying to tamp it down so I don’t completely lose my cool.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” he barks.

  “A man with an Irish brogue shot me in the parking garage of my office and told me to leave Staten Island before he called me a Ruskie. Then in spray paint on my bedroom wall, I had a message that told me to get out of South Beach, or we’d be picked off one-by-one. My wife’s guard was executed in my living room, along with his wife and two small children, one being an infant. Before all of that, two of my call-girls were beat to shit. I refuse to be fair game for your men. We’ve worked our own territories without issue for a long while, but these tactics don’t work for me, O’Neil,” I announce.

  “I didn’t issue any orders on you, your men, families, or your whores,” O’Neil shrugs.

  “Not many other Irish would want me out of South Beach, other than someone in your crew,” I say.

  “I didn’t order it. And I don’t know what kind of men you have, but none of mine would step a toe out of line. So I know they didn’t do it,” he grunts.

  The big fucking fool.

  “Then I suppose this means war?” I ask, arching a brow.

  “We don’t need war. We can be civil,” he murmurs.

  “I know that I can be civil. It’s your barbarians I’m concerned with. I have to protect my men’s families and my employees. It’s my duty as a Pakhan.”

  “Let’s not get hasty. I’ll ask around. Find out if someone is trying to pin this shit on me,” he grumbles.

  “Better ask around like fucking lightning. I’m getting rather impatient,” I announce before I stand and walk away from him and his men.

  I hear the clicks of Pasha and Dominik’s footsteps behind me, but they wisely stay silent. I lift my chin to my men after I step out of the pub and shake my head once, signaling them not to do anything—yet.

  They’ll have their chance.

  That fucker just got himself a war.

  “Take me to my wife,” I grunt to Dominik.

  “We need to have a meeting about what we do next,” Pasha advises.

  “I’ll decide nothing right now. I’m angry. I already texted Petya to come to my office first thing in the morning. I would like you there as well, along with you Dominik,” I say before I close my eyes.

  I need to calm myself down a little. Being in that room, listening to that fucker for the short time I was in there, gave me a fucking headache.

  We don’t say anything else. Even when I gather Ashley from Pasha’s, not a word is spoken other than normal pleasantries and then goodbyes. Ashley’s grip on my hand is tight, and I wonder if me telling her about the sit-down was too much information. If she’s this upset, then I don’t need to tell her in the future. I can’t have her stressing about me every second of every day. I do enough of that for the both of us.

  Once we’re back inside of our suite at The Mark, we quietly make our way toward the bedroom. We need to talk. I sigh and shake my head before I open my mouth to begin, but Ashley beats me.

  “Gregori has a brother,” she blurts out. I open my mouth, but she begins speaking again. “I’m sure you knew, but I didn’t. We were looking at possible marriage matches for Oksana and there he was. Pasha and Sonia are giving her the option of which man she wants out of a file of men, and he was one of them, one of the men she chose.”

  “Come and sit down, pchelka,” I murmur.

  A weight is lifted off of my shoulders that she’s not upset about my work for the day, but a new weight replaces it, and is very heavy.

  Gregori, though he’s dead and gone, is a shadow that follows my Ashley and always will.

  The things he did to her, no animal should ever endure, let alone a young girl. Ashley was only seventeen years old when he kidnapped her and tortured her.

  Ashley walks right over to me and sinks to her knees, resting her head on my inner thigh. She’s not thinking, but rather moving on instinct and training. I don’t mention that she can sit next to me, or even across from me on the chair.

  I like having her close, and this is what she chose.

  “I did know that he had a brother, Gavril. I’ve met him a time or two. Though I don’t know him well, I never got the vibe that he was like Gregori,” I whisper as I pet her pretty hair.

  “Nobody thought Gregori was like Gregori,” she murmurs.

  I almost laugh at how completely true her statement is. She sighs and I know that this is what she needs from me right now. This closeness that can only be provided during a Dominant/submissive type role.

  “Are you scared for Oksana if she chooses him? Or are you scared for yourself if you have to meet him?” I ask, trying to get to the root of her worry.

  “I worry that Pasha and Sonia are making a poor decision by even allowing Gavril as a possible choice. I understand that not every family member is the same. You’re nothing like Ivan, so I know that it’s extremely possible that Gavril is nothing like Gregori. But I’m also terrified of having to meet him and look into his eyes and possibly see the evil that his brother carried with him. I don’t want to be transported back there again,” she says softly, her eyes closed as I continue to pet her soft hair.

  “I would never let a man, or anybody, hurt you again, Ashley,” I say.

  I believe it with all of my heart, but I also know that the threat of her being hurt again is very real. I’m not naïve enough to think that I can keep her one hundred percent safe at all times.

  “I know,” she whispers. “I think it just scared me, and it took me back there.”

  “I can imagine it would,” I rumble.

  “Will you help me forget, Jacob?” she asks.

  “Anytime, pchelka,” I grin before I pick her up and drag her to the middle of the bed.

  I aim to devour her before I fuck her so hard, the only worry she’ll have is whether or not she can walk tomorrow morning.

  I FEEL SOMETHING WARM between my legs. I crack one eye open and am not surprised to see the top of Yakov’s messy hair nestled between my thighs. He licks me with one long, languish swipe of his tongue, and I can’t stop the moan from escaping me.

  I expect him to stop and speak, but he doesn’t. He sucks my clit between his teeth, flicking it before he releases it and thrusts his tongue inside of me.

  “Jacob,” I gasp.

  My breath hitches when his hands slide up the backs of my thighs to my knees. He pushes them back, so that my knees are touching the mattress on either side of my body.

  I’m unable to move as he rocks me a
gainst his tongue. I pinch my eyes closed and I bite my bottom lip as my body climbs higher toward its release.

  I feel his moan vibrate through my pussy before the sound reaches my ears, and that’s when I let go and cry out with my climax. I don’t even have a second to catch my breath before his mouth is on mine and he is inside of me.

  I lick his lips as he thrusts in deep, tasting myself on him. Wrapping my hands around the back of his neck, I twist my fingers in the hair at his nape and hold him close to me.

  “Wrap your legs around high, pchelka,” he breathes as he continues to swiftly move inside of me.

  I do as he asks and lift my legs so that my ankles cross as high as possible on his back. I hear him grunt above me before he picks up both his speed and his power with each thrust. Then he rips his lips from mine and buries his face in my neck before he starts to pound inside of me, no mercy, and no holds barred.

  “Come,” he grunts.

  I close my eyes, already feeling myself on the brink of my second orgasm. Three thrusts of his hips later, I sob out my orgasm before he grunts against the skin of my neck, then stills inside of me. I feel his body shake slightly above me, before his weight sinks on top of me in relaxation as he sucks on the skin of my neck.

  “Yakov,” I whisper.

  “Am I too heavy?” he asks.

  “No, I like you here,” I admit as I run my fingers up and down his back. “What time did you get home?” I ask.

  “I just walked in the door,” he admits before he rolls to the side, grabbing me as he goes so that I’m on top of him.

  “I hate when you have to work at night. I worry,” I say, tracing a tattoo on his chest.

  The blue inked tattoos he sports are still something I’m getting used to. When I met him, he had not one piece of ink on his body. He later explained that he was actually in the Bratva undercover for many years. Only after his father died was he able to start his ink collection. It seems every couple of months he adds a new piece to his body. He’s told me that he’s trying to play catch up, but that each piece tells the story of his career and his life in the organization.

  “What’s this tiger mean?” I ask as I trace the new ink on his chest as gently as I can.

  “It means I’ve shown aggression toward police,” he shrugs.

  “When did you do that?” I ask, arching a brow.

  “Just because my father kept me out of the prisons of Moscow does not mean that I was a golden boy, pchelka,” he chuckles as his way of answering me. “Do you still like this house?” he asks, changing the subject.

  A week ago, we moved into the house that we own—both of us. My name is on the deed and everything. It meant so much to me, more than he will ever know, that Yakov opted to have my name put on the paperwork for our new home. I’m his wife. While it is just as much mine as it is his, that move was more symbolic than anything, and it made me cry.

  “I adore it. I can’t wait for the furniture to arrive,” I whisper.

  “I rather like only having a bed,” Yakov chuckles pulling me closer to him. “I want you to be happy, Ashley,” he whispers.

  His face is very serious and it makes me wonder exactly what he did last night. He looks somber and even a little sad. I cup his scruffy cheek in my hand and rub my thumb across his top lip as I stare into his cool blue eyes.

  “I’ve never been happier in my entire life,” I say.

  “Things may get rough here soon. I wasn’t going to tell you because I didn’t want to scare you, but this war is going to happen, pchelka. I need you to be vigilant, and I need you to be safe. This is so much bigger than anything else I have ever been a part of, and right now, I’m leading this,” I murmur.

  “War?” I ask.

  “With the Irish,” he confirms.

  “What do you need from me?” I ask bravely. I hope that I sound confident to him, because inside I’m so scared.

  “I’ll have three Byki on you at all times. Never leave the house without all of them. Always set the alarm. I’ve had video surveillance installed, not only in the house, but also on the outside of the house, and on the perimeter of the property. I’m not taking any chances at all this time around. Your phone will forever stay on your person, in your pocket, in your hand, in your fucking bra if need be. That phone has GPS installed on it. I’ll be able to find you anywhere in the world. Also, every phone in the house can reach me by holding down the number five. I wish I could keep you in a bubble, but I know that I can’t.”

  “I’ll do everything I can to stay safe, Yakov. Thank you for worrying over me,” I murmur, thinking about all of the beautiful things he’s done to keep me safe in our home.

  “I’ll always worry over you; but this situation is intense, and I want you—I need you to be extra observant in all things,” he mutters, pressing his lips to my forehead.

  I shift and straddle his hips, taking his hands and dragging them from my thighs all the way up to my breasts. He looks at me with confusion, but makes no move to remove his hands from me.

  “The situation may be tense, but we’re aware of it, unlike the last time. So, you’ll do what you can to keep me safe, and I’ll do what I can to keep myself safe. When we’re together, we’ll help each other forget the craziness of the outside world,” I explain as I reach behind me, grabbing onto his hard length before I shift my body and take him inside of me.

  “Ashley,” Yakov moans.

  He pinches my nipples before he tugs on them as I roll my hips. He feels absolutely wonderful inside of me—a perfect fit every single time. Yakov shifts behind me and I feel his thighs against my back. I lean away from his front, resting my back against his thighs, knowing that he desires a bit more control than what I’m giving him.

  Yakov’s hips rise beneath me as I stay perfectly still, resting in the cradle of his thighs. Then I feel his thumb against my clit and my thighs start to shake. He rubs me firmly before he gives my clit a firm tap.

  “Jacob,” I gasp.

  “Hush,” he chides as one of his hands slides up the center of my body and wraps around my throat.

  With one hand around my throat, and the other firmly rubbing my clit while his cock thrusts up from beneath my body, I feel the urge to come again. The stern look in his eye tells me that if I came right now, he wouldn’t be happy. So I bite on my bottom lip in hopes of keeping my climax at bay.

  “You’re going to look so pretty with my bruises around your neck. It’s been a while; can you take it?” he asks, arching a brow.

  “Yes,” I whisper as my answer.

  My eyes roll in the back of my head as his hand tightens around my throat while his finger and thumb pinch my clit and his cock continues to fill me with each lift and thrust of his hips.

  My whole body starts to vibrate, and when he releases my neck, the blood rushes back to my head and I can’t control the scream that erupts from my throat as I come.

  I shake and jerk before starting to fall forward. Yakov anticipates my shift as his hand moves from my throat to my chest and he holds me back without missing a thrust from his powerful hips. It doesn’t take long before I feel him fill my body with his own release, and then he slowly lowers me onto his chest.

  “I love you,” he whispers against my ear.

  “I love you so much,” I whisper back.

  I leave him to clean up, and when I make it back to bed, he’s passed out with one arm over his head and the other sprawled out to the side. He looks tired, completely and totally exhausted. I decide to leave him alone. I take a hot shower and dress for the day. We’re supposed to have a few pieces of furniture delivered. Then later, Sonia will be helping me stage it after its arrival.

  Once I’m dressed, I quietly make my way downstairs and start myself a coffee. It’s not real coffee, but instead, a café mocha that tastes exactly like hot chocolate with that little bit of caffeine I need to get me going. My body is sore and tired from the three orgasms I had this morning.

  I feel my phone buzz in the ba
ck pocket of my shorts, and see Sonia’s number calling me.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  “Hi. I can’t go to your house today. You must come to mine. I have so much going on,” she says.

  She sounds strained and immediately my heart starts to race with fear. I start to walk upstairs back to Yakov.

  “Oh, no, what’s happened? Is everything all right?” I ask, trying to keep her on the phone.

  “No, no everything is fine. You just need to come here; and no need to bring your Byki, you know how well guarded our house is,” she says. That’s when I know something is definitely wrong.

  “Okay, I’ll be over shortly,” I say nonchalantly as I sit down on the bed next to Yakov.

  “Oh, yes, please do come as soon as you’re able,” she murmurs before the line goes dead.

  “Jacob,” I cry unable to keep myself from becoming hysterical.

  “What? What’s happened?” he asks in a panic, his eyes wild and his hand reaching for his gun, which is on the nightstand.

  “Something has happened to Sonia. Where’s Pasha?” I say before I explain the strange phone call.

  “Pasha isn’t home.”

  “Do you know where he is?” I ask trying to get more information out of him other than his short clipped answers.

  “His fuckup son, Timofei, got popped for being in the middle of a bar brawl. It’s his fifth offense, and he had to post his bail. He didn’t think he’d be home until well after eight in the morning,” Yakov explains.

  “What’s happened?”

  “She called me and told me to come over with no Byki, as soon as possible,” I explain as my voice shakes. “Shouldn’t they have guards?” I ask in confusion.

  “Should? Yes, they absolutely should. Which either means something happened to get them out of there, they’re dead, or they’re on the perimeter and this fuck somehow got inside without them knowing it,” he murmurs as he taps his finger against his chin.

  “We need to go,” I cry.

  “Nyet, we do not need to go. I’m going to make a couple calls while I start to get ready. Your head Byki will be arriving any minute,” he announces. “Along with a very unhappy woman,” he chuckles.