Sovietnik's Fury

by V. F. Mason

  The most important point was that Alex had no access to Jake and could see him only if I agreed. Plus, everything that belonged to me stayed mine, and each month, Alex would send money to my account as long as I didn't spill his secrets.

  He could shove all his money and power down his throat. I was glad my imprisonment was over and he wouldn't be able to order me around anymore.

  The scratch of the pen as I signed sounded loud in the otherwise silent room as Hugh exhaled in relief and Alex smiled sadly. “I’ll make sure you both are taken care of. It shouldn't have ended like this,” my ex said softly but frustrated, but I shook my head and stood up.

  “Keep your money. It was never about that, and you know it. I’m glad it’s over.” Re-adjusting the purse on my shoulder, I picked up my copy of the documents. “Thank you for the quick work.” I shook Hugh’s hand. He was a good guy—for a lawyer—and he valued my opinion as well, so I couldn't hold much against him. I flew out of there without a backward glance at Alex.

  I jumped into an open elevator, pressed the ground floor button quickly, and rested my head on the wall as the doors closed.

  The memory from six years ago assaulted me, reminding me how I got into this mess willingly to begin with.

  Groggy and disoriented, I snapped my eyes open as a piercing headache assaulted me and, for a second, I struggled to breathe as each movement brought greater throbbing. Machines beeped loudly around me, my whole body hurting as if someone had beaten me almost to death.

  Placing my hand on my forehead, I gasped when my fingers detected a slight bump. I moaned loudly.

  Something cold touched my skin before pulling my arm back as the hand rubbed my cheek. “Shh… my love. I had to do it. You understand, right?” Although the voice was gentle, and despite the fever rushing through me, cold slipped into every bone as fear overshadowed any other discomfort. I raised my eyes, blinking away the haze only to see the blurry image of a man in blue scrubs with a nose mask on.

  Was I in the hospital?

  What had happened to me? The last thing I could remember was screaming at my dad how I would never surrender to his wishes, and then everything had gone blank.

  Panicked, I wanted to rub my stomach, but my arm was restrained to the bed with the IV drip and it almost fell on me, but the doctor, or whoever he was, managed to catch it. Not that I cared.

  “My baby—” I barely rasped, my throat dry and scratchy, probably from the screaming when I fell down on the street.

  A bright light blinded as the door into the room opened wide and a female voice questioned, “Who are you?” She had green scrubs on, probably a nurse or another doctor then.

  “Doctor Alan.” He showed her his nametag on his shirt. She nodded, albeit remaining confused if her frown was anything to go by. Then her eyes widened as she noticed I was awake. Standing next to me, she adjusted IV drips and brought ice to my lips.

  “You're awake now.” She grinned brightly. “That’s good.”

  “My baby?” I needed her to tell me the truth, to let me know it was okay and I hadn’t lost our little bean.

  She patted me gently while applying soothing cream on my forehead. “Thank God people found you on the street quickly. Nothing is broken and you have only a slight bump on your head, and lightly scratched skin. The baby is okay, darling.” Her voice turned stern when she added, “You may have a slight fever due to the stress and the medication we had given you, but it’s safe for the baby. You were lucky.”

  Relief washed over me, and if I hadn't been on the bed already, I would have probably collapsed to the floor.

  Okay, little one, you are okay.

  Even though I just found out about the baby few days ago, I already loved it with everything I was and couldn't wait to share the news with Radmir.

  Then the door shut loudly as the doctor who treated me disappeared behind it without saying anything else.

  Weird. But part of me was glad, because he didn't inspire the best emotions inside me.

  “Your fiancé is waiting outside, pale as hell. He hasn’t left your side since you were brought in.”

  Frowning in confusion, I was about to ask who she was talking about when Alex walked inside the room holding a bucket of red roses.

  The nurse winked at me. “I’ll allow this visit for a few minutes, but she needs to rest.” With that, she left, leaving me in a room with the man I least expected to see.

  Alex and I were childhood friends, until he’d traveled abroad to study. When he’d returned, we didn't reconnect or anything. But after my father brought up this… alliance—because what else could a person call something like that?—he changed his behavior at once.

  Simply put, he had no place in my life, and I didn't know how to make it clearer. We hadn't seen each other since that gala charity dinner, right before I left for Russia.

  “Vivian,” he greeted, placing the flowers on the only chair available in the room. The room was small and didn't even have TV. I just hoped my insurance could cover it. One more problem I would have to think about.

  “What do you want, Alex?”

  He chuckled. “Not so much in for the conversation, are you?” He leaned against the wall, his eyes on me while he held his jacket in his hand. “We could solve each other’s problems.”

  What?

  “I’m pregnant.” He needed to know, and I hoped with the news he’d leave me alone. It felt like an act of betrayal, though, saying those words for the first time to the wrong man.

  Radmir deserved to hear it first, to have his eyes alight with joy. Instead, my man was locked away, and he couldn’t possibly know we had created a life together. My heart ached when I thought about him in prison, but hope still lived on that they would find the real murderer. Not for a second did I believe he was part of it. Someone had framed him, and when I lay awake at night, I cried myself to sleep, hoping with everything in me it wasn't my father.

  He’d turned into someone I no longer recognized.

  “I know.”

  “I love another man. I chose him. Please give up.”

  He walked closer, resting his palm on the top of the bed. “A man who got sentenced for life for murder. A Bratva member, I’m aware.”

  “There'll be an appeal!” Radmir’s lawyer promised him they could win it, but the guy was so nervous and twitchy I wondered if he even believed his own words.

  “This will take years, Vivian, and neither you nor your baby have this time.”

  My panic came back. “What do you mean?”

  “Your fall was not an accident. Someone tried to help you naturally miscarry.”

  Shaking my head at the absurdity of his words, I pointed out, “No one knows about it.”

  He laughed, although it lacked any humor. “Really? You’re in danger, because no one wants this”—he pointed at my stomach—“to be here alive and well.”

  “You are….” Fury rushed over me, and I hated that I couldn't do anything about it right in the moment. I would have loved to throw something at his smug face.

  “Right. And if you listen to me, you will keep your baby.”

  I told him to go the fuck away, and I didn't want to see him again. Since my pulse rose, the heart monitor beeped loudly, and fortunately, he was ushered away.

  A few days after, I asked my father for help, but he just laughed it off and didn't want anything to do with my baby.

  After that, through my connections and Dominic, I found Vasya and begged him to take me. I was part of the brotherhood with my baby. We belonged to Radmir. Those were their laws!

  He told me to go to hell and forget I even knew Radmir, and as far as he was concerned, Jake was no one, and God only knew who my baby belonged to.

  I was desperate and didn't know what to do, but when a car almost ran me over, I understood that my life no longer mattered.

  Jake was all that mattered.

  And a month later, I got married to Alex Jordan, hating every minute of it. Back then the only hope
keeping me alive was that Radmir would fix it all once he was out and understand my decision.

  Over.

  The marriage, the scheme, the lies… they were finally behind me, and I wouldn't have to pretend.

  Tears ran down my cheeks as laughter burst from within me, echoing off the walls, and as the doors opened, people greeted me with confused expressions.

  Blocking them all out, I exited the building and raised my face to the sun, enjoying the light breeze and warmth spreading over me as a sense of freedom washed over my soul.

  My hands rested on the silver Orthodox cross at my neck, which I hadn't taken off in six years, not since Radmir placed it there after our first night together. He told me once that it was given to them once they became rightful members of the brotherhood, and they only gave it to their women, so everyone around would know who she belonged to. It was the ultimate sign of devotion that spoke about their feelings.

  I’d never be free from some things, as heartbreaking as it was.

  September 2017

  Moscow, Russia

  Radmir

  The Kipelov’s song “Ya Svaboden,” which translates into “I’m Free,” blazed through the speakers in the empty Bratva headquarters gym as my fists punched the bag rapidly. The blood from my split skin smeared all over the leather as sweat dripped down my forehead and back.

  Spinning swiftly, I kicked the thing with all my might, and it detached from the ceiling and fell with a dense thud, as I breathed heavily.

  Fuck, those things never lasted very long, no matter how many chains I had on them.

  My body ached in all the right places after the extensive workout. Swinging my arms from side to side and stretching for a bit, I removed the boxing gloves with my mouth and picked up a water bottle in the corner, spraying it on my chest as I wiped away the sweat with a towel. My back prickled, and in one move, I took a gun from my bag and spun around to face the intruder. All the Bratva members were busy drinking and fucking since pakhan brought his woman back.

  Expecting some fucker who’d come to harm the Bratva, I frowned at seeing Vitya studying me through the ropes as he rested his arms on top of them.

  “So are you gonna do anything else besides killing off people, getting reports about your woman and her son, and then spend all your time in the gym? You are a sovietnik. Maybe it’s time to act like one,” he mused, as annoyance rushed through me.

  “I don’t remember asking your opinion on how to live my life.” Why the fuck did he speak like that to me? We had a hierarchy to follow, and as it stood now, he was the main enforcer, which meant my word was over his, and he had no right to come here and question my choices.

  He snorted, hopped in the ring, and raised his shirt as my brows shot up. What the fuck was he doing?

  Pointing at the scar on his stomach, he asked me, “Remember how I got it?”

  Surprised with such a bizarre question, I nodded. “A fight.”

  He shook his head. “Not just a fight, a fight with a man who called me names when he saw me making out with another dude. I was just twenty back then, and you were with me at the club in France.”

  Frowning, I wrapped the towel around my neck and held the corners on each side of my head. “And?”

  “He kept on spewing to you that I shouldn't be allowed in the Bratva, that you should end my life there, and he kept beating me, but I never hit him back, because I had no strength against him. You didn't help me either. Once he was done, we were left at the back of the club with me lying on the ground bleeding, and you holding a gun, not knowing what the fuck was going on. I thought my days were numbered.”

  Yeah, those were the times I preferred not to remember.

  “Listen, Vitya—”

  He didn't let me finish, interrupting me with his speech. He usually stayed silent. Why all of a sudden did he feel the need to share? “You kneeled next to me and told me I should forever remember that day, to etch it in my brain, so the next time someone punched me for who I was, I was to punch the motherfucker right back.” He had been bleeding from his broken nose. I could still see his hollow eyes as if life had ended for him.

  In any other circumstances, it probably would have. No mafia houses would allow openly gay men to be part of the brotherhood.

  “I still believe in those words.”

  Sometimes talking with the members was exhausting, considering they all had some of my wisdom to give back to me. But how could it be any different? I raised them when Vasya just wanted results. He was a good pakhan, but he didn't give a fuck about their emotional state as long as they could be useful for the brotherhood. The only person he had a soft spot for was Dominic, but I even had him under my wing for years.

  “You gave me a chance to live my life, and we both know it. You taught me that day not to think less of myself and to fight back. That’s why you didn't defend me.” Something flashed through his eyes. “That man was found dead the next morning.”

  I had no comment to this. We both knew I killed him with no remorse. The fucker was twice Vitya's age. He had no business going around hurting kids. Not on my watch.

  “What’s your point, Vitya? This whole girly chitchat grates on my nerves.” Not to mention I was all sweaty and in desperate need of a shower. The only place where I could actually close my eyes and imagine Vivian while wrapping my hand around my dick and getting some kind of relief from this all-consuming desperation my life had become. So in a way, I looked forward to a shower after a workout like a fucking horny teenager who spent most of his days in bathrooms.

  He adjusted his shirt back in place, while opening his arms wide. “I will forever be grateful to you for being there for me when I needed you the most. So stop hurting and pushing us all away when all we want is to help you.” He paused for a second. “And remember your place here. Everyone is too scared to tell you, and Dominic is busy with his woman.” He finished and folded his arms while looking at me expectantly.

  Fucking hilarious.

  Picking up my bag, I passed Vitya and hopped down then turned around to see he was still frowning at me. “Dominic is busy traveling around the world killing everyone involved in his Rosa’s situation. I handle the meetings with investors and the rival mafia houses. I make sure everyone is taken care of, and I supervise Yuri’s financial statutes. During classes, I teach the recruits how not to lose their heads in this world, and at night, I make sure the headquarters are patrolled. Not to mention it’s me on the phone with every authority in the land you guys go to, so you won't have a war on your hands.” His eyes widened in surprise. “Yes, interesting, isn't it? You follow Dominic everywhere, because you are his most trusted person, but you know fucking nothing about what happens here.”

  “Radmir—”

  Not in the mood for his excuses, I waved my hand so he’d shut up. “Everything runs smoothly in the brotherhood, except for Yuri who, for some reason, got interested in an FBI agent, even though he doesn't want to admit it, and the pakhan, who for a long time everyone thought was crazy, but it turned out his woman was alive, and thank fuck for that.” I pointed my finger at him. “And no one knows about you and Michael, because I squash the rumors the minute they start. So, Vitya, I’m going to say it only once. Never tell me how to do my job or question my actions. Unlike all of you, I was born into this life. You all saw this life as an escape from a nightmare, but for me, it became a nightmare.” Not waiting for his reply, I walked to my wing, wondering when everyone would fucking learn that unlike them, I knew about the responsibilities on my shoulders.

  But Vitya was right about one thing.

  Enough of this sappy bullshit. I was never the man to wait on life to grant me something, so why start now? Vivian Jackson belonged to me, and it was about time everyone knew it.

  Fuck the past.

  I’d find ways to punish her for it without having to live without her for the rest of my life.

  A man couldn't live without his heart; he could function and survive, but not live.<
br />
  And I was fucking tired of just surviving in this world.

  Vivian

  “Mommy?” Jake shouted excitedly from behind me. I turned around just in time to catch him in my arms as he jumped on me, giggling loudly. “We won!” he screeched, and then raised his chin proudly while I hugged him close, breathing in his scent.

  Nothing could have calmed me better than him.

  “I wasn't even doubting it for a second, baby,” I replied softly, patting his head, as he raised the ball in his hand.

  “My goal was winning!” Then he wiggled, indicating he wanted down, so I put him on his feet, and immediately he raced into the living room and plunged on the sofa at the same time turning on the TV. “Cartoon time.”

  Shaking my head in amusement at Jake’s attention swings, I couldn't help laughing, because he still had his hockey practice helmet on, but it didn't seem to bother him much.

  Alex threw Jake’s hockey practice bag on the floor and placed some paperwork on the table. “They want to transfer him to a more advanced group. He is good for his age.” Pride laced his voice, and I hated it even though he was always good to my son. “I told them they’d have to contact you for that, since we are divorced now.”

  “Thanks.”

  He shifted awkwardly, but then cleared his throat. “Could we… could he and I still have hockey Sundays together?”

  Anger snapped inside me at his words as I folded my arms and glared at him. “You have no right. He was never yours. Everyone knows that. Your name is not on the birth certificate. Jake is mine, and if you think to go to court about him—”

  He raised his hand, stopping my rant. “Vi, that wasn't what I meant.” He exhaled heavily, running his fingers through his hair. “He is not my son. I know that and he knows that. But… I’m a stability in his life. Who is gonna go to those games with him? You? No offense to women, but sons usually hang out with dads.” He leaned against the wall, his eyes on Jake. “Plus, I got used to it as well. I’m asking you to not take it away from us.”