“You do that,” Novak laughs, seeming a little too pleased with himself, “and reinforce your woman’s training while you’re at it.”
A sarcastic response wells up inside me but I manage to keep my expression neutral. Novak doesn’t miss the chance to get in another dig.
“I don’t envy you, my man,” he continues. “Especially when your woman never misses an opportunity to talk back or question your authority. Anyone else would have nipped that power struggle in the bud by now. Guess it’s a good thing you’re in touch with your feminine side.” His eyes gleam with unadulterated glee as he awaits my reaction to the blatant insult.
“You handle your woman, Novak, and leave mine to me,” I growl.
“You’re always so touchy when it comes to that girl.”
“And you’re always trying to stir shit up.”
“Yes…I admit it. True, true...”
“Fuck you, Novak.”
“You’re not my type, sweetheart,” he laughs as I stomp down the hallway, infuriated. I don’t need anybody telling me to how to handle my woman; her father’s one thing, but Novak? Well, he’s just being Novak.
Chapter Twelve
Roksana
We’ve been dismissed from the Pakhan’s presence in no uncertain terms, but Oleg is still in there. What does Father want with him? It has to be something of significance for him to separate him from me. As my bodyguard, he is as good as my shadow, even here at home.
Even I have to admit that this doesn’t bode well for Anastasia. I’m worried that Father is going to have her eliminated after last night’s drama. When we’re about halfway back to our rooms, we decide to turn back and do a little reconnaissance of our own – but we take a different set of stairs so that we arrive from the opposite direction. No need to encounter Oleg on our way back and have to explain that.
We hide in an alcove that’s just around the corner from the office. I slink a little closer to the door and eventually I’m able to make out the deep, smooth rumble of Father’s voice and, of course, Novak. I don’t hear Oleg’s voice among them, which makes me think he may be on his way back to our suite of rooms. I place my finger to my lips, signaling Anastasia to be quiet.
My father’s clear baritone is easy to make out from where I’m standing. He must be talking to Novak. He rarely does anything without Novak being in on it. Those two feed off each other’s energy. When they’re together, trouble’s never far behind.
“If I’ve learned anything in my years of being in this business, it’s to never trust another mobster. Peace treaties are easily broken. It is inevitable. These Venezuelans could very well have forged ties with the Colombians.” So my father’s moved on from tonight’s hit; he’s concerned about our ties with the Ramirez brothers.
“I don’t think Ricardo Ramirez is going to allow Antonio Wayne to break the treaty we have with them,” Novak replies.
My father chuckles and I can picture him shaking his head indulgently at his cousin. “You always assume Antonio Wayne is the troublemaker.”
“Yeah, I know trouble when I see it and I know where it comes from.”
“Only because you’re the troublemaker in our relationship.”
“Yeah…must be a DNA thing.”
My interest is piqued when I hear what Father says next.
“I have a mole on the inside with the Venezuelans. Atticus Mendoza. Call him and get him on it. If anything about the Ramirez brothers comes up I want to be the first to know.”
I tug on Anastasia’s arm and we hurry back toward my room. I wait until we’re out of earshot before I speak. “Well, at least we know you’re safe, I don’t think there’s a hit out on you.”
“Safe for now anyway.”
“Welcome to my world.”
“No…welcome to mine,” Oleg interjects sharply, having approached us from behind. He falls into step with us, a pace or two ahead, of course.
Where the hell was he this whole time?
“We’ve got work to do,” he says curtly, “if we’re going to get to that diamond stash before the Venezuelans do.”
“Let’s do it,” I agree.
“Follow me. I’ve got the blueprints pulled up on my computer. While you two were busy eavesdropping, I was working.”
“Hey…I wanted to make sure the Pakhan wasn’t going to kill my new sidekick without me knowing about it.”
“If he was going to kill her he wouldn’t give a shit about hiding it from any of us. She’d be dead before we ever knew he had plans to off her.”
“Hey, guys, I’m right here... You know I can hear everything you’re saying, right?”
“Be glad it’s only idle speculation.”
Oleg leads us into my room where the blueprints are on the computer monitor. “I thought you said your room, Oleg,” I murmur, confused.
“What’s yours is mine, babe. You should know that by now.”
“Come over here and help me make sense of this,” I say quickly, ignoring his comment. In his mind, I’ve belonged to him since the day we met. The Pakhan merely made it official when he promised me to Oleg, probably thinking that marriage would tame me. It feels right, being his – but I won’t be tamed. I don’t want to have to choose between being a Bratva soldier and being a little Bratva wifey. Granted, my mother’s a shining example of a woman who has carved out her own unique place in our world, wielding her own power in support of my father’s devotion to his legacy. But she’s the exception and not the norm. I’m content enjoying a long engagement, even though I know Oleg wants marriage sooner rather than later.
My fiancé sidles up next to where I’m sitting at the desk. He leans over my shoulder, pausing to press a kiss to the nape of my neck. “You’re the only woman I know who can wire a bomb but can’t read blueprints.”
“I’m the only woman you know who can wire a bomb, period. I can’t be good at everything.”
“Yeah, well, you’re good at all the right things,” he says for my ears alone, each word producing a warm puff of air behind my ear and sending a shiver down my spine.
“Focus, man of mine.”
“Okay, I’m thinking this warehouse on River Road is where they were holding the diamonds.”
“Why are all the warehouses on River Road?” I answer my own question with an ominous thought. “If walls could talk those places would tell some bloody tales.”
“We’ve seen our share of bloodshed in ours,” he says almost tenderly, and I know he’s recalling the day we met when I snuck into the warehouse and saw him in action, torturing a man who had incurred the wrath of the Pakhan. I suppose most couples would be disgusted that I find the memory of our first meeting to be so romantic, but I don’t apologize for the life I’ve chosen. Along with my two brothers, I am a proud Mensa geek, having completed my education years ahead of my peers to take my place in the family business. I’m grateful to be with a man who understands and values my unique world view as few men ever could.
“Well, if we don’t find those diamonds there will be more blood,” I say as I lean back into his body where he stands behind my chair.
“That’s how we roll, baby. That’s how we roll.”
Chapter Thirteen
Oleg
Getting my hands on these diamonds for the Pakhan is of utmost importance. I know I don’t need to prove myself in order to secure my position in this family; however, there is nothing I won’t do for my Pakhan. Getting those diamonds will not only ensure I’m in Glazov’s good graces, but will also give him a jump on achieving dominance in the diamond business. Go big or go home, right?
This isn’t a comfortable feeling for me—feeling so invested in someone else’s welfare. I know people like to say I’m dead inside. They’re right. The only part of me that’s alive is the part Roksana and her family hold in their hands. When I told her she is my soul, I meant it. The spark of life she ignited in me the first day I laid eyes on her has grown into a raging inferno of obsession.
I will never forget the look of
awe on her face when she saw me hard at work in Glazov’s warehouse the day we met. Everyone else looks at me like they think I’m crazy, like something’s wrong with me. Even the men I work with are scared of me. But that day? That gangly teenager looked at me like I was a God.
As a kid my parents didn’t know how to handle me, so most of that responsibility fell on my Uncle Yafon. My parents had no idea that he was using my penchant for pain to train me. It takes a certain kind of person to do what I do. Most of the men who work for Glazov opt for quick kills. They get in and out before the target even knows they’re going down. Not me. I like to savor the moments of torture. Most people plead for their lives, but my victims? They beg for death.
I let my mind drift back to the night I almost killed a boy Roksana accompanied to his prom. She finished high school years before other kids her age, so she missed out on a lot of the typical teenage stuff that girls do. Hence, her desire to go to a prom and make out in a car afterwards. Her pimply-faced date didn’t realize who he was feeling up in the backseat until I showed up to help him see the light. I knew I wouldn’t be able to let him just walk away, and I almost felt sorry for him until I saw him touching her. The memories remain vivid as I recall the moment when Roksana and I finally acknowledged the true nature of our connection.
They had already left the prom by the time I arrived with the intention of taking her straight home – well, maybe not straight home; I planned on blistering that ass of hers with the palm of my hand first for sneaking out without me. When I heard a bunch of kids talking about blowing off the prom to go parking instead, I knew exactly where I’d find her.
The night was dark but there was just enough moonlight to see them fumbling around inside her car. She had no idea I followed her and he damn sure didn’t know either. They had been at it long enough to fog up the car windows, but I could make out shadowy silhouettes of heads and limbs doing who knows what, and it made my blood boil. I crept up to the car and jerked the back door open, pulling her horny date from the backseat of her car and ignoring Roksana’s shrieks of protest.
Roksana straightened her clothes as she stumbled out of the car. Rage roared through me as I took in her rumpled state. She tugged her strapless bodice back into place and smoothed the short skirt down over her thighs. Why would she let this inexperienced fucker paw at her like that? And what the fuck was she doing driving her own car when she had me, anyway? Only my little control freak would insist on driving her own car on a date. I mean, what asshole would let his date drive on prom night? Have some fucking pride…
She had deliberately tried to hide from me that night. But there was no way she could hide from a man as obsessed as I was. I had maintained a sense of decorum with her until then because I thought she was safely under my control. But this?! She was about to find out how that night’s fiasco changed everything.
My fist crashed into the punk’s face over and over until I tossed him to the ground, little more than a limp tuxedo in a puddle of blood.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Oleg?” she shrieked. “With the way you’re acting, somebody might think you want to fuck me. Do you? I’m a virgin. What fun could that possibly be, right?”
I was captivated as she hiked her dress up, hooking her thumbs under the sides of her panties and sliding them down, down, down until they fell to the ground at her feet. Her eyes were locked on mine defiantly before she straightened and covered her mound with her hands in a spontaneous and unexpected gesture of modesty.
I licked my lips and stepped toward her, pushing her up against the car as I jerked her hands away and slid my own hand into their place.
“This is mine, Roksana. This virgin pussy belongs to me,” I rasped into her ear. “And when the time is right, I am going to tie you down and take your hymen.” I slid my middle finger up and down her slit until her body was writhing, doing a dance I choreographed with each slow stroke. “Did he make you come? Did you let him do this to you?” I asked bitterly.
“No, no, we just kissed, that’s all,” she gasped.
“Just kissed,” I muttered, shaking my head as I roughly swiped my thumb across her lips, removing her lipstick and any trace of that boy. With my other hand, I continued to stroke her clit, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger until she begged me to let her come. “You belong to me, Roksana. I want to hear you say it. Promise me; tell me I’ll be the only man you take inside your body.”
She pressed her hands flat against the car door, clenching her fingers as her face contorted and her body began to jerk uncontrollably. “I’m yours, okay? Only yours. Oh, fuck, yesssss…”
After she rode out the orgasm against my hand, I straightened her clothes and took her home, leaving her date to wallow in his own blood. Finally, things were settled between us. I had the security of her being mine. It was all I had ever wanted and all I would ever need.
But I had crossed a line that night by touching her, and I knew it. It was the first time I had ever felt that perhaps death at the hand of her father would be worth it. I needed that covenant, her promise that she would save herself for me.
That night became a secret we never revealed to anyone, and that was the last date she ever went on. After that night, her father seemed to watch us more closely. Roksana continued to push the limits of my control, teasing and tormenting me with no concern for who saw her doing it.
Eventually I was in one too many brawls because of her antics and it drew the Pakhan’s attention. I could not deny that my interest in her went far beyond my bodyguard duties. She and Natasha ventured out to a nightclub one evening and all my girl did was dance, but the jock thought he could touch her. I nearly beat him to death and when word reached the Pakhan, he had had enough. He met us at the front door and decreed that he was promising Roksana to me in marriage.
I still don’t know how he figured out that I’d fallen in love with his only daughter. Hell, for all I knew that had been his master plan all along.
Yes…getting these diamonds is a gesture of loyalty and an expression of my gratitude to him for giving me his daughter. In doing so, he has entrusted me with a piece of his heart.
Chapter Fourteen
Anastasia
Roksana makes herself at home in my walk-in closet, pushing hangers this way and that as she talks. “You need to dress sexy tonight. You’re going to be our diversion. You get us past that guard and we are on our way. They’re never going to expect us to hit them this soon.”
“You haven’t talked to your dad about this, have you,” I say, more as a statement than a question. I don’t want to get in trouble again.”
“Then I suggest you don’t kill anyone.”
“I’ll try and keep that in mind,” I deadpan.
“Good…I don’t want to have to save your ass again.”
“I saved your ass and Oleg’s, I might add. I never said a word about you two not being there when I came out. You were supposed to be there waiting for me. Oh, and by the way, thanks for giving me a heads up that the guy’s girlfriend or whatever might be there.”
“You’re welcome, smartass. I wasn’t certain she would be there, and sometimes ignorance is bliss. You would have been more nervous if you had known you might have to kill more than two people. As far as danger’s concerned, you live with danger now. Anastasia, I’ll tell you what Oleg loves to tell me: just lie back and go with it, baby.”
“Yeah, thanks for that image that I’ll never get out of my head. Ew. And I’m sure you’re just all submissive when it comes to that kind of thing,” I laugh. “I’m surrounded by danger now that I live with you. Just how do you plan on dealing with the guard on duty?”
“Ketamine—also known as Special K. I chose it because not only should it incapacitate him, it should wipe his memory. It’s not always absolute, of course, but it should confuse him enough that he’ll doubt his sketchy recollection of what happened. It will increase the odds that we can make it through the night without having to kill anyone.”
“Well, let’s hope so.”
“Wear this.” She tosses a black spandex skirt along with a clingy black top in my direction.
“You always dress me in black.”
“It’ll match your ski mask.”
“That’s you…always fashion forward.”
I throw the clothes on and grab the ski mask. I follow Roksana out toward the car where Oleg is already waiting. I’m ready to go to work. In fact, I’m looking forward to it. My curiosity has me wondering what three million dollars’ worth of diamonds looks like.
“You keep this guy alive, Anastasia, so he can take the fall for the loss. The first thing they’ll think is that this was an inside job and that’s what we want. What better way for them to self-destruct than from the inside out? When a mob boss loses trust in his men, he’s got nothing. As soon as trust is compromised, the foundation of the organization crumbles.”
It’s a smart move, pitting them against each other. They’ll be focused on finding the mole, not the Russians who took their stash of stolen diamonds. I can only imagine Glazov’s pleasure when we pull off this heist – and his rage if we don’t.
Tonight’s job will solidify me as a legitimate member of this Bratva family. I will have managed to do the impossible. Outsiders being brought in is rare. For these guys it’s all about family. As crazy as it sounds, I consider myself pretty lucky to be in this circle.
I can tell the Pakhan I’m sincere about my work all day long, but showing him is going to speak volumes. I know I’ll never be blood family but having his trust is important to me. If I’m going to spend the rest of my life with the Glazov family, I want to create real ties that bind.
Chapter Fifteen
Oleg
I wait until I pull out into traffic before I lock eyes with Roksana in the rearview mirror. It never gets old, the games she plays to taunt me.
“So Oleg, do you plan on putting one of those rocks you’re confiscating tonight on my finger?”
Deadly (Born Bratva Book 5) Page 6
