Forever my Badman (Russian Bratva Book 7)

by Hayley Faiman

  I spill. I tell her that I’m pregnant and that I think I conceived during my engagement party.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” she gasps.

  “No,” I laugh.

  “Thank god you didn’t marry Gavril. Could you imagine?” she asks on a hiss.

  “No freaking kidding.”

  I spend another hour talking to my friend. By the time she’s caught me up on her life and everything that’s been happening in Brighton Beach, I’m finally tired enough to sleep.

  I tell her good night and then promise to call her in a few days, especially with Mika’s reaction to my surprise. I hang up and then plug my phone into its charger before I place my hand on my stomach and let my eyes flutter closed.

  THE PLANE LANDS IN the small airport. My eyes are so heavy I feel like I should stick toothpicks in them to keep them open. I don’t think I’ve slept in the past ninety-six hours, my body running on pure adrenaline. Now that everything is almost finished, I’m starting to crash.

  “You ready for this shit?” Timofei asks.

  I find it interesting, yet comforting, that Timofei is becoming more of a friend rather than just a co-worker. Granted, most of it has to do with the fact that I am, indeed, married to his sister. But Timofei is also coming into his own man, now that he’s been living in Denver, running a crew of his own and not treated like a prince anymore.

  “Hell fucking no,” I chuckle as the door of the plane opens.

  I stand, my box still gripped tightly in my hands, and make my way onto the tarmac. We won’t be able to leave for Denver until tomorrow, our pilot needing a few hours of sleep before he operates the plane again. Timofei still has a fuck pad in the middle of Brighton Beach, and he said we could crash there.

  Kirill and his crew have gone back to California, and our men have all gone back to Denver. It’s just me, Ziven, and Timofei on the rest of the mission. But first, I’m delivering this goddamn head, dropping it in Pasha’s fucking lap.

  The driver opens the door for us, and we all pile into the back of the town car, uncaring that we’re a little smashed. We’re too exhausted to give a single fuck.

  “Where to?” the man asks.

  Timofei offers up the address. He nods, and the car eases out and onto the road. We head toward Pasha’s home, where I’m sure he’s holed up in his office waiting for us, since I sent him a text before we left Mexico.

  Once we arrive, it doesn’t take us long to walk up the steps. Without knocking, Timofei leads us right into the house and then into Pasha’s office.

  “Good afternoon,” Pasha rumbles.

  I walk over to his desk, set the box down, open it, grab El Patron’s head by the hair, and remove it from the bag before I drop it in the middle of Pasha’s spread out paperwork.

  “We done?” I ask.

  “What the fuck?” he whispers, unbelieving.

  “Are we done now?” I repeat.

  “And I asked what the fuck?” he barks as he stands from his chair.

  “You wanted El Patron’s head. You fucking got it,” I state calmly. “Now I want your word that we’re done as far as Oksana goes. She’s my wife, and she’s staying my wife.”

  “No way in hell. She’s a printsessa, and she didn’t have permission to marry you. No, we’re not done. You’ll be compensated for the head,” he smirks.

  “Papa, you had a deal. Your word as a Bratva Pakhan is your bond. You’re nothing if you do not uphold your vows,” Timofei says, sounding mature, cool, calm, and collected.

  “Shut up, you little cunt. I’m the Pakhan and I make the rules. You defied me by taking my daughter and defiling her. You don’t get to keep her,” Pasha grinds out.

  “Pasha,” Ziven warns.

  “I did what you demanded, as ridiculous as it was. El Patron is dead. You can bronze his fucking head as proof if you want, stare at it and be completely unhinged, but I did what you wanted, and I’m keeping Oksana.”

  “I’m her goddamn father, and I say no,” he roars.

  Timofei walks up to him and presses the barrel of his gun to Pasha’s forehead. Pasha’s eyes leave mine and focus on his son’s. Ziven and I stare in wide-eyed shock at Timofei.

  “Now, papa, you’re going to calm the fuck down,” he murmurs.

  “You don’t tell me what to do, you little cunt,” Pasha growls.

  “Nyet. I’m the one holding the gun—so yeah, I fucking do,” he snorts. “You’re going to calm down. Oksana did what you wanted when she reluctantly agreed to marry Gavril. Nobody agreed with your pick for her, but nobody questioned you, not even her.

  “Mika has protected her, and he’s a Brigadier. They’re legally married, and the union has been approved by Sergei. It’s done, papa. She’s Mika’s responsibility now, not yours. Now, I’m still marrying the Irish child next year, and all will go well with the union and the combined families. There is no reason to fly off of the handle, especially not when Mika has jumped through your ridiculous hoop,” Timofei explains calmly.

  “You pull a gun on your own father?” Pasha asks, ignoring Timofei’s speech.

  “I pull a gun on a Pakhan who is acting fucking ridiculous,” Timofei announces. “Now are you done?”

  “Fine. I’m done, for now,” Pasha grumbles.

  “No, you’re done, papa. You’re fucking done. This shit with Oksana is over. She’s not aborting any babies; she’s not annulling or divorcing Mika. She is Oksana Rybina, and that’s final. If you want a relationship with her, I suggest you call her and grovel, because you’ve been goddamn ridiculous. Your actions could have truly hurt her.”

  Timofei doesn’t wait for Pasha to respond. He turns and walks out of the office. Ziven turns and follows him, but I stay for a moment and look at Pasha, really look at him. His eyes are wild. They’re nothing like the eyes of the man I met so many years ago. They’re no longer cool, calm, and calculated. He’s fucking lost it.

  “We’re done?” I ask one last time.

  “Yeah.”

  I leave him in his office, alone with his severed head, and I follow Ziven and Timofei. They’re already in the car when I slide inside. Timofei tells the driver where to go, and we ride in silence toward the apartment for a few hour’s rest.

  Once we’re there, and it’s just the three of us, Timofei lets out a frustrated sigh as he walks to the freezer and pulls out a full bottle of expensive vodka. I don’t like vodka, but I gladly accept the tumbler full of it and take a healthy swig.

  “His reign is over,” Timofei rumbles.

  “He’s unbalanced and maniacal,” Ziven murmurs before taking a drink of the clear liquid.

  “What happens next?” I ask.

  “We keep a close eye on him. But indirectly,” Ziven suggests.

  “How?” I ask in confusion.

  “Konstantin,” Timofei announces. “Konstantin is his protégé. He was so ready to hand Oksana over to him. He kidnapped Oksana at my father’s request, but he also didn’t like what he saw happening.”

  “Can we trust him?” I ask.

  “He’s our only in right now. I trust him more than most of the men my father is in close ties with. Anyone that was in my old crew isn’t high enough to give us shit,” Timofei explains.

  “Let’s call him here then,” Ziven suggests.

  Timofei nods and then pulls out his phone. I listen as he asks Konstantin to come to his place. I feel like I’m betraying the Bratva by going against Pasha, like somehow this is wrong; but Pasha is as Ziven said. He’s unbalanced.

  I pull out my own phone and call Ony to check up on Oksana. He assures me that she’s perfectly safe. I inform him that I’ll be home the next day, and he grunts his understanding before I end the call just as Konstantin knocks on the door.

  I roll to my back and exhale. I look to my left and notice that the bed is still made, which means Mika isn’t home yet. I imagine he’d join me if he were home. I let out an exhale in a haughty puff.

  I’m annoyed, and scared, and worried as
all hell. I hurry to the bathroom to shower and dress, stopping to throw up as soon as the toothpaste taste fills my mouth, then going back to finish brushing. I’m starting to wonder if this is going to be an everyday thing.

  A knock on the front door has my brow lifting with curiosity as I walk toward the sound, not expecting any guests at all. I find both Quinn and Leonie standing in the hall with smiles on both of their faces. I open up and Quinn bursts through, wrapping her arms around me in a gigantic hug.

  “I hope you don’t mind, Leonie told me. I was so excited and happy, I made you an appointment with Doctor Sokoloff,” she buzzes. “He said he has machines down at his office and can do an ultrasound to see where you’re at,” she rambles.

  “Seriously?” I breathe.

  “You aren’t mad are you?” Leonie asks.

  “No,” I say shaking my head.

  “Let’s go, go, go,” Quinn says as she bounces on her toes, full of more energy than I’ve ever seen her with.

  “Okay,” I laugh before I walk over to my bag and scoop it up.

  “Doctor Sokoloff’s office,” Leonie announces to Ony.

  “Figured that’s what today’s agenda would hold,” he chuckles.

  It doesn’t take us long to reach his office, and I find it interesting that it’s actually in his home. The Bratva doctor in New York, Doctor Pavlov, also has his own practice with regular patients, so he has an office in an office building.

  Once Doc Sokoloff introduces himself, he asks me a few questions about how I’m feeling, when my last cycle was, and when I think I could have possibly conceived. He then has me lie back on his exanimation table. I make sure that Leonie and Quinn stick right next to me the entire time by holding onto their hands so tightly I’m probably hurting their fingers.

  The doctor places some cold gel on my stomach, and then presses a wand with a cord to it. He urges me to look at the machine’s screen next to me, and my heart starts to beat erratically at the sight.

  It’s a baby.

  A head, two arms, two legs, a body—a real baby.

  “You’re about sixteen weeks,” he murmurs. “I’m going to do a more in depth ultrasound, because you’re so far along and haven’t had prenatal care,” he informs me.

  Then my heart starts to erratically beat for a whole other reason.

  “Will that affect the baby?” I ask on a whisper, not wanting to say the words too loudly.

  “It’s doubtful, but you need to start taking prenatal vitamins now,” he says. He’s still completely focused on the machine next to me.

  It looks like he’s measuring things and punching a ton of buttons. If I could hold my breath, the entire time, I would.

  I’m so scared.

  “Everything looks really good so far,” the doctor says. I let out a heavy sigh.

  “Really?”

  “Would you like to know what you’re having?” he asks.

  “Oh, tell us,” Quinn says, bouncing in her chair.

  “Oksana?” Doctor Sokoloff asks.

  “Yeah,” I say, biting my bottom lip.

  “Congratulations, mama, you’re having a boy,” he grins.

  “A boy?” I ask, looking from the screen to the doctor.

  “A boy,” he confirms with a nod.

  A few minutes later, I have an appointment for four weeks from now, and a handful of black and white pictures, along with a due date of five months from now. It feels like the baby will be here tomorrow, like I don’t have enough time to plan everything that needs to be planned.

  I feel like my heart is going to explode in my chest as I continue to look at the pictures of my baby, my son. My breath becomes wheezy and I find it’s hard for me to simply breathe.

  “You need to calm the fuck down,” Ony says as he walks us to the car and helps us inside.

  “I’m having a baby, a boy, in five months,” I blurt, unable to keep from telling him, my hands shaking at the thought.

  “Congratulations,” Ony says as he starts the engine and drives us back to the condo.

  “I don’t have time to plan everything that needs to be planned,” I say in a rush.

  “Five months isn’t enough time?” he asks in confusion.

  “No. I lost ten weeks of time where I should have known,” I state.

  Ony shakes his head but, smartly, doesn’t say anything. If he did, I would probably fly off of the handle. All of the timing aside, I don’t know how Mika will really respond. He claimed he wanted me to be pregnant, but that was more for safety and keeping us together than really wanting a child.

  Then my father threatened him, and in turn threated the baby I didn’t know that I was already carrying. I close my eyes and pray that his mission was successful. There is no way in hell I will abort this baby if Mika failed.

  This baby is mine, Mikhail is mine, and I’m keeping them both—my father be damned.

  I’VE BEEN TIRED BEFORE, exhausted and drained, but I have never really experienced the feeling of being dead on my feet until now. Ziven, Timofei and I are exactly that, dead on our feet, and we don’t speak the entire flight from New York to Denver. None of us can sleep, the flight not being long enough to really pass out the way we need to; all of us still reeling from the plans we put in motion just a few hours ago.

  Konstantin is now our spy. It’s ludicrous to think that we even have to have a spy within our own organization, but Pasha has made it a reality. Konstantin has agreed that he doesn’t like the way Pasha has been operating and will keep us informed of his goings on.

  “I’m taking at least three days of rest. I urge you to do the same. The club can run as it has the past few days. I’m not telling a damn soul I’m back until I get some fucking sleep,” Ziven rumbles as the plane descends and lands.

  “Same here,” Timofei mumbles.

  “Agreed,” I grunt as the door to the plane opens.

  The three of us disembark, and I can’t help but feel different. I’m free now, free of Pasha and his demands—of his threats. I have good men, powerful Pakhan’s, at my back, and it causes me to smile.

  Now, I just need to get home to my Oksana.

  Oksana isn’t home, and when I text Ony, he informs me that she’s out with both Quinn and Leonie. I take the time she’s gone to shower and search for something to eat. There are chocolate chip muffins on the counter. I grin, knowing Quinn must have made them.

  Quinn has started to really grow on me. She’s much sweeter than the cold woman I met a few years ago. I’m glad that Oksana has a woman like her around, and her friend Leonie, as well. I secretly hope that Ustin and Leonie will stay. Ustin came back with the rest of the crew a few days ago, but has kept his return from Oksana, as I’ve requested.

  Once I’ve eaten, I make my way to the bed and slide naked between the sheets. It smells like Oksana, and when I pull her pillow closer to me, I inhale deeply on a moan. My cock twitches at her smell, knowing that soon she’ll be right next to me, and I’ll be inside of her—freely.

  I instantly fall asleep in my own bed, her scent all around me.

  “I’ve been keeping something from you,” Leonie admits as Ony pulls into the parking garage of our condo.

  “What’s that?” I ask, still clutching my ultrasound photos.

  I’m nervous and excited all at the same time, and yet, it all has a shadow cast over it. I don’t know when or if I’ll ever see Mika again.

  I hate it.

  “Ustin came home yesterday, early morning. He told me that I wasn’t allowed to tell you that he was home, but I don’t know. I thought you should know,” she explains. My eyes widen in surprise.

  “Is Mika okay?” I ask nervously.

  “He wouldn’t tell me anything. Trust me, I really tried to get it out of him,” she whispers. I let out a heavy sigh as Ony parks the car.

  “Don’t fret, Sana,” Ony rumbles as he opens the door and steps out of the car.

  “What do you think that means?” I ask, turning to Quinn and Leonie.
<
br />   “I think he knows something, but he’s been told to keep his lips zipped. Ziven isn’t home yet either, though. I haven’t heard from him,” Quinn admits.

  “This is killing me. You realize that, right?” I ask as Ony opens the door to help us out of the car.

  “Sorry,” he shrugs.

  I growl and he only chuckles, which makes me that much more irritated with him. Asshole. I say goodbye to Quinn and Leonie, who are smiling, but they both look a little wary. I don’t know if it’s because they’re worried about me, or if they’re worried about whether or not Mika will return to me.

  Frankly, I’m concerned with both, myself and Mika. This has been the most stressful few months of my entire life. I can’t wait for it to all be over with, and fast.

  Once I’m safely inside of my condo, I decide to go to bed. It’s not really late, only about six in the evening, but I’m tired. I set my sonograms down on the kitchen island and toe off my sandals before I walk into the bedroom. When my eyes land on the sight in front of me, I can’t help the sob that erupts from my lips.

  Mika.

  My Mikhail is home.

  I watch as he sits up, his hair a messy mass of unruly crazy, his dark blue eyes wide and his chest heaving. I’m sure I scared him, but I don’t care. He’s home. Mika stands, his eyes pinning me in my place. I can barely breathe, let alone look anywhere but at his beautiful, breathing face.

  “Oksana,” he rasps as his hands wrap around my waist.

  “Mikhail,” I breathe as I throw my arms around his shoulders and press my face in his neck.

  I inhale his scent, his masculine, clean scent, and that’s when it really hits me that he’s home. My entire body sags in relief, and tears pour from my eyes. His hands fist in the back of my shirt, and he pulls me even closer to his body, his face buried in my neck as well.

  “Tell me what happened,” I whisper against his skin.

  “After,” he grunts. “After I’ve been inside of you.”

  I don’t even get a chance to speak before he reaches down and wraps his hands around my thighs, picking me up. Without a word, he turns and lies me down on the bed. Its then that I realize he’s completely naked. I can’t help but smile as I reach down and wrap my hand around his smooth, hard length.