Chosen by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 9)

by Hayley Faiman

  He hums before he speaks, “Are you planning a wedding anytime soon?”

  “So you heard?”

  Timofei chuckles. “I heard,” he agrees. “I’ll lighten your load on the other end. This is more important anyway. Technically it’s beneath your paygrade, but…”

  “It would make my boss happy?” I ask with a grunt.

  “Kiska Barysheva, she’s the daughter of Kirill, the California Pakhan. She’s moving to the city to dance in the New York Ballet. Kirill needs eyes on her at all times. She’s contracted to a Brigadier in Texas, but her marriage isn’t for another three years. She wishes to dance, and Kirill is allowing it, but only with the understanding that I will keep a guard on her. A regular Byki, of course, isn’t good enough,” he explains.

  I let out an exhale and close my eyes. Fucking babysitting. Three years of it. I should be pissed, and I should laugh and tell him to fuck off. I don’t. Timofei is not only my boss but a friend as well. If he wants me on this job, it is for good reason, and I’ll do it without issue.

  “When does she arrive?”

  Timofei explains that she’ll be moving into an apartment near the ballet company in the city. He also tells me that he’s secured two apartments, mine will be next door to hers. She will know who I am, and it should be fairly easy because she should be dancing for around twelve hours a day.

  He also announces that I’ll be in charge of a stable of call girls in the area as my other duties. I’ve done it before, and I was good at it, although I was kind of glad to get out of it when I did. Maybe it’s exactly what I need right now though. The girls will be a welcome distraction to my own personal shit.

  “Sounds good boss,” I murmur.

  “Konny?” he asks, and I smile at his nickname waiting for him to continue. “You’ve earned the right to pick your own bride, but I have to tell you. After this mission is complete, I’m going to make an executive decision and pick one for you.”

  My mouth opens and closes in shock. “It’s unheard of,” I bark.

  “It isn’t. You don’t have a father to do it for you. I’m your age, but brother, I’m your boss. I’ll be making the arrangement for you,” he states before he ends the call.

  I pick up my tumbler from my patio table, and I hurl it against the wall.

  Fuck him.

  I scroll through my numbers and find the one I’m searching for. “Hey,” the soft voice breathes.

  “Busy?” I ask.

  I need to get some anger out, and this is the only way it will happen right now. She hums her answer before the line goes dead. I know she isn’t far away from me, she never is. I walk into the apartment and close the balcony door behind me before I walk over to my front door. I open it and lean against the jamb, waiting for her to appear.

  When I hear high heels in the hallway, I turn my head toward their direction, and I see her. She’s only wearing a long sweater and her heels. I know for a fact, without even looking that she’s completely nude beneath the sweater.

  “I thought you were dating again?” she asks before she comes to a stop in front of me.

  I grunt. “It’s over.”

  She pokes her bottom lip out in a fake pout before she speaks. “Poor Konstantin,” she mutters.

  Lifting my hand, I run my fingertip down her cheek, mimicking the trail that her tears will take in just a few moments. “You’re going to make it hurt tonight?” she asks in a small voice.

  I grin as my eyes catch hers. “I’ll pay you,” I explain.

  She nods. “I know you will, Kon. You’ll make me feel good, too, won’t you?” she asks as she skirts past me into the apartment. I close my eyes for a brief moment as I step back and close the door, then lock it before I turn around to face her.

  She’s standing in my living room, her sweater discarded and completely naked save for her heels. Viveka is a sight to behold. Her dark blonde hair falls to the tips of her breasts and her big dark eyes stare right at me, waiting for more.

  “I wish we could be more, Viv. I wish that I felt more for you,” I admit.

  She grins as she shakes her head. “We are not meant for each other, Konstantin. We have sex, and nothing more. But wouldn’t it be so much easier if there were more?” she asks, arching a brow.

  “Yeah,” I sigh.

  She closes the distance between us and places her hand on my chest. “She is out there. I know it, Kon. She is out there and she is waiting for you. When it happens, I want to be at your wedding. You, my friend, deserve all of the happiness in the world,” she smiles.

  “As do you, my friend.”

  She gives me a sad smile then rearranges her face and turns to walk toward my bedroom. She’s been here so much over the years that she knows every inch of the place. She’s my best friend in the world.

  A whore.

  A girl I grew up with.

  A girl who knows as much of my past as I do hers. Maybe she fucks me because she feels sorry for me because she knows my childhood and my past. Maybe because she just wants the cash. If I’m being honest with myself, it’s probably because she loves me as her friend and knows what I need and how I need it.

  I slip my belt from its loops as I follow behind her. When I walk into the bedroom she’s exactly where she knows I want her. Her chest is on the bed, her ass facing me, and her knees on the floor, her legs spread wide.

  Without giving her a warning, I reach my arm back and bring it forward, watching as my belt lands across her ass—hard. Her skin blooms pink immediately as her breath hitches. I don’t give her a moment to breathe. I repeat myself, ten more times.

  When I’m finished, my breathing is labored, and I let the belt fall to the floor next to my feet. Viveka turns to me on her knees, her face streaked with tears as she gives me a smile.

  My breath hitches as she crawls over to me and begins to unzip my pants. I’m so hard I ache as she takes me all the way down her expert throat. I wrap my hand in the back of her blonde hair and I fuck her, relentlessly, spilling down her throat as I groan with my release.

  I spend the rest of the night tangled with Viveka, feeling dirty and disgusting for liking to hurt her. For enjoying the way I fuck her, without feeling, without care, and rough as shit. Her cries spur me on to go harder, faster, and rougher.

  “I’ll be out of commission for a few days,” she smirks when she’s finished.

  I reach over to my nightstand where I keep a pile of cash designated just for her. I grab a stack of hundreds, five thousand to be exact and hand it to her. “I’ll call your boss,” I grunt.

  “I really do hope you find her,” Viv whispers as she pulls her sweater on to cover her naked, bruised, body.

  I shake my head. “You think I’ll find a Bratva girl who will enjoy, even crave, what I just did to you?” I ask as I take a cigarette and light it.

  Viveka shakes her head once. “I know that you will, Kon. She’s out there, and if she falls in love with everything beautiful that you are, then she will crave this part of you as well,” she murmurs.

  I don’t respond to her, and she doesn’t wait around for me to either. She’s out of my apartment a few minutes later, the front door softly closing behind her.

  I am so fucked up.

  Stubbing out my cigarette, I close my eyes and try to relax. My body is completely sated, but my mind is running a mile a minute. I have three years to find a woman. One who can take everything that I give in and out of bed, one that wants me, wants to be mine, and one who is strong enough to be Bratva.

  One Month Later

  MY MOTHER STARES AT me, her eyes full of tears that threaten to spill. We’ve never lived apart, not ever. She and I have been through so much together, and we’ve never been separated. Now we’ll be across the entire country from each other. I thought this was what I wanted, now standing in this apartment, I’m not sure.

  “You’ll be fine,” she nods before she launches herself against me and wraps her arms around me in a hug.

  The past mo
nth has been exciting, but cathartic also. I’ve made peace with my future, no matter how much I still detest it. I’ve also apologized to both of my parents. My mother waved it off, understanding exactly why I was so angry. My father has been a little tougher on me, but I can tell he’s forgiven me and he understands.

  I suck in a breath as my mother takes a step back, allowing my father to take her place. His hug is so tight that I feel as though he’s going to suffocate me. I don’t mind it though, not even a little. It feels nice, comforting. My papa.

  “You will have a guard. He lives next door. You do not leave this apartment unless he is at your side,” my father growls.

  “A guard?”

  He nods as he takes a step back. “Konstantin is actually a Brigadier. He is trusted, smart, and good at what he does. He’s doing this as a favor to not only Timofei, but me. I didn’t want just any Byki watching my girl,” he grunts.

  “I’m going to miss you, and the kids,” I whisper as I think about my younger siblings.

  My father smiles. “We’ll be back for your first performance. You aren’t that far away, just a plane ride,” he winks.

  My mother fusses over me, and the apartment for a few more minutes before my father ushers her out of the door. He looks back at me his eyes darkening a touch. “Remember, Kiska. You are an engaged woman,” he growls.

  I look down at the ring that Akim slipped on my finger at my going away party a couple of nights ago. I don’t think that I could forget about my engagement with this ridiculous ring on my finger. It would be impossible.

  “Yes, I know,” I nod.

  Without another word or a backward glance, my parents close the door behind them, and they leave me alone. I walk over to it and lock it before I press my back against it and sink to the floor. I’m alone. All alone. I don’t know what to do. I’m not sure if I want to smile or cry.

  Shit.

  My phone rings in my hand, and I jump before I look at the name.

  “Dedushka,” I whisper.

  My grandfather is calling me, all the way from Russia. I haven’t talked to him in a few months and I’m excited to speak to him now. He’s always so busy, as am I, plus with the time difference, our conversations are few and far between.

  “How are you?” he asks, his voice deep and thick with his accent.

  I sigh. “I’m all moved in. It’s weird,” I laugh.

  “You’re alone, and you’re now an adult,” he states. I nod as though he can see me. Then he continues. “I know it hasn’t been easy, being contracted to somebody. It’s our way, and it is because your father wishes to protect you, just like I wished to protect your mother,” he explains.

  “I know. I’ll accept my fate,” I whisper.

  My grandfather chuckles. “Do you like the boy, now that you’ve met him?”

  My nose wrinkles at the thought of Akim. He is a little pudgy, obviously spoiled, and he kept staring at my breasts when I was trying to talk to him. Not only that, he stared at every woman’s breasts, even my mother’s. He was gross. His hair was greasy, and he smelled like pot and beer. He is not my type at all.

  “Your silence is all the answer I need,” he chuckles.

  I let out an exhale. “I wish that I had, had a say in who was chosen. On paper, Akim is fine, but in person,” I shiver. “He’s gross,” I admit.

  “You have three years there, no?” I hum my answer. “You’re an Orlova, Kiska, don’t you ever forget that,” he murmurs.

  “What are you saying?”

  He chuckles. “I’m saying you have Orlova blood running through your veins. Blood that demands what it wishes, and takes what it desires. You are not a woman who will roll over and accept the unacceptable. I know your father has signed contracts, and yes, on paper Akim seems acceptable. But…” He lets his sentence trail off ominously and doesn’t finish it, even though I wait for him to.

  “But?” I ask a few minutes later.

  “You’re eighteen, you know what is right and wrong,” he states, and I imagine him shrugging. “Now I must go, my Raisa waits for me.”

  The line goes dead, and I look at the now black screen with confusion. Is my grandfather really telling me to disobey my parents, my contract? I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and I smile. He’s crazy. With a shake of my head I walk toward my bedroom. I need to shower and then go to bed early.

  Slipping Akim’s gaudy ring off, I set it on the little dish on my nightstand before I begin to undress for my shower. Tomorrow is my first day of rehearsal and I’m a mixture of nervous and excited. I know that by the end of the day I’ll only be exhausted, so I need as much rest as possible. I wonder if my guard knows what time I leave in the morning? I guess he’ll find out when I knock on his door at five in the morning.

  I bang on the door, for the third time. I cannot be late. Not on my first day, not ever. The door swings open and I’m met with a tall, slim blonde. She blinks once, then grins. “Viveka,” she greets holding her hand out.

  My eyes meet her palm and then skirt down the rest of her. She’s wearing a skimpy skirt, high heels, and a miniscule tank top. “Kiska,” I grumble.

  I feel like a small child standing next to her. I’m wearing a pair of tights with leg warmers over them, a leotard, and an oversized sweatshirt that covers my ass. My dark hair is pulled tight and pinned into a perfect bun on top of my head, my face bare of makeup.

  “Kon, there’s a Kiska at your door,” she calls out her voice sexy and husky. She steps to the side as a man walks up behind her.

  My mouth goes dry at the sight of him. He’s gorgeous. He’s tall, his hair dark and there’s a lot of it. He’s not wearing a shirt and familiar blue tattoos litter his chest, arms, neck, and hands. His stomach is flat, except for the ridges of muscles at his abdomen. He’s only wearing boxer briefs and oh-my-God I can see the outline of his package and although I don’t know much about that, it looks intimidating.

  “Kiska,” his voice rumbles and my eyes shoot up to his face.

  He has a crescent scar around his eye, making him about ten times hotter than he already is, and his jaw is strong and covered in a few days’ worth of stubble. My God. How am I supposed to live next door to him, let alone be around him all of the time?

  “I need to leave, like now,” I exhale.

  “Oh my,” the woman, Viveka whispers.

  Konstantin grunts. “Viv, you good?” he asks.

  She laughs, and it sounds almost musical. “Oh, I’m going to be just fine. You, on the other hand, dear Kon, you are fucked,” she says.

  I turn to her and notice that she’s got a huge smile on her face. My eyes swing back to Konstantin who only glares at her. She giggles and scoots past me. I watch her walk away for a beat before I look back at Konstantin. I expect to see his eyes on her round ass, but I don’t. They’re focused completely on me and my breath hitches at the intensity he’s aiming in my direction.

  “Give me five, yeah?” he states. “Come in, close the door, lock it,” he barks before he turns around and walks off.

  I do as he’s ordered, unsure of what else to do, my body reacts to his demands without question or fight. I watch his ass in his boxer briefs and wonder, how on earth, this man was built that way. He’s absolutely stunning.

  Then I chastise myself for lusting after another woman’s man. It’s gross, and I shouldn’t do it. No matter how sexy he is, and how his dark gaze makes me feel. I’m in trouble—so, so, much trouble.

  I glance at her from beneath my Tom Ford glasses. She’s petite, but not what I imagined at all. I thought that she would look more like her mother, Tatyana. She does in her face a little, her lips especially, but the rest of her features are her father, Kirill. Dark hair, assessing eyes, and attitude.

  Her body, however, is exactly like her mother’s, from what I can tell. She looks nothing like the ballerinas I’ve seen, she has way too many curves, curves that make my cock ache.

  How in the fuck am I supposed to stay away from her for thre
e goddamn years? I don’t know.

  “What time you get out?” I ask as we approach the front door of her dance studio.

  She jerks slightly next to me before she tips her head back and her plump lips part slightly. Damn, all I want to do is stick my hard dick down her throat. Christ. This is going to be the longest three years of my life. Tim owes me huge for this shit.

  “I-I don’t know, late I think,” she stutters.

  I lift my chin. “I’ll be here,” I grunt.

  She nods her head once before she walks away from me. I can’t see her ass because it’s covered in an oversized sweatshirt, but I know it’s most likely phenomenal.

  The dance students hurry past me, a few glancing in my direction before they slip inside of the building. I stay until they’re all inside and I watch for the next hour. It’s obvious to me that this detail, this long detail will be boring as fuck.

  “Skumin,” I grunt into the phone when it rings.

  Timofei’s laugh rings through the other end. “How did your morning go?”

  “Fuck you. Am I supposed to stand outside of this building all goddamn day?” I ask, my irritation and sexual frustration causing me to be on edge.

  Timofei chuckles. “Nyet, your stable awaits. The girls are ready to meet you. Just be back in enough time to escort her to her apartment,” he explains. “I’ll text you the address for the girls.”

  The call ends and a few seconds later my phone dings with an address. I glance at the building one last time before I walk away. Leaving her alone in there doesn’t feel right. I decide to call a Shestyorka. He’s only sixteen, but at least he can be my eyes while I’m away.

  “Hello?”

  “Where are you today, Lazar?” I ask as I walk back toward my new apartment complex.

  “Wherever you need me to be,” he states, and my lips tip in a grin.

  This kid.

  He’s a good kid, and he’s going to make a fine Bratva man when it is his time. I explain to him what I would like. His response is that he will be there as soon as possible and I can practically see his chest puffing out with pride that I’ve requested this job of him.