Chosen by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 9)

by Hayley Faiman

  “Why are you telling me this? To scare me?” I demand.

  She shrugs. “You’re young and pretty. I’d hate for something bad to happen to you.” She turns and walks away from me without giving me a chance to respond.

  I didn’t have anything to say anyway. I think about her words. Closing the door, I lock it before I make my way over to the sofa and sit down. “What would happen to me?” I whisper to myself.

  Konstantin is rough, and he likes things that I’ve never imagined before, but I like them too. I can’t imagine him ever doing anything bad to me. I frown and look down at the floor. Viveka was just trying to get into my head. She’s crazy, and a bitch, and if Konstantin is so scary, then why does she want him so badly for herself?

  “Kiska?” Konstantin’s voice calls out.

  I look up to see him standing at the door, his shoulder leaning against the jamb. His brows are knit together, and he looks a bit confused, and concerned all wrapped up together.

  “My mother knows about us,” I whisper, deciding to ignore Viveka and her warnings.

  Konstantin blinks as he walks the rest of the way into the living room, closing and locking the door behind him. Then without speaking a word, he walks over to me and sits down on the sofa, his thigh pressed against mine. “And?”

  “You’re going to break my heart,” I whisper.

  He nods but doesn’t deny the words. Then he leans back, and lets out a sigh before he speaks. “I will, assuredly. There will be times when I will force you to do things that you will not wish to do. There will be times where you will curse me and be angry with me. There will be times that you will question everything about me—about us. All of these things will happen, sladkaya,” he admits.

  I suck in a breath, waiting for him to continue but he doesn’t. Only then do I tip my head to the side and chance glancing up at him. His head is turned to face me, and his chin is dipped down so that our eyes connect.

  “Then why would I wish to stay with you?” I ask through trembling lips.

  Konstantin wraps his hand around the side of my neck and runs his nose alongside mine. “Because you’re mine, sladkaya. You love me, as I love you, and when you love someone, you’re willing to bleed for them.”

  “I don’t want to be in a relationship where you’re already planning on hurting me,” I whisper.

  He chuckles. “Yeah? And Akim? He’s going to be a kind, gentle, caring lover and a fair man?”

  I try to pull back from him, but his fingers tighten against my neck. “You’ll hurt me too, Kiska. Bank on that. I’ll curse you and be angry with you, too. There will be times where I will question being with you—question us. But I will never question my love for you. Not ever.”

  “This is all going to blow up in our faces,” I sigh, closing my eyes.

  Konstantin’s lips touch mine in a gentle kiss before he lifts his face from mine, and settles his dark gaze on me. “It will, and we will pick up the pieces—together. However, for now, let your man deal with this shit. You have a show to practice and prepare for.”

  His words cause my lips to twitch in a smile, and I give him a small nod. I do have a show to focus on, he’s right. Although, Akim will be in the back of my mind until he’s completely out of the picture—whenever that may be.

  “The rest of the day it’s just you and me, sladkaya,” he grins. I watch as he stands and I think he’s going to take my hand and tug me toward the bedroom, but he doesn’t. “How about some food? You must be starving.”

  “I am,” I admit shyly.

  He shakes his head and pulls out his phone before punching some buttons, and then I listen as he orders pizza and pasta, two things that I should absolutely have no part of. “You’ll eat them, and you’ll enjoy them,” he states as though he can read my mind.

  Konstantin wraps his hands around my waist and pulls me up to a standing position before his lips brush mine. His tongue teases the seam of my lips, and I whimper as my mouth falls open. That’s where we stand, his tongue deep inside of my mouth, tasting me until our food arrives. It’s innocent, yet erotic, and absolutely fantastic all at the same time.

  TWO WEEKS. WE HAVE two weeks for this show. I don’t know why we aren’t given more time. It feels almost like a test, or maybe this is normal. I’m not sure. What I do know is that I’ve almost spent months rehearsing a show before being required to perform it, and now I only have two freaking weeks.

  “This…I can’t handle this,” Zoe moans as she plops down next to me. Peter does the same, except he does it with a groan.

  I wish that I could go back to yesterday. Yesterday was a good day, and I wouldn’t mind reliving it all over again. Of course, I would take the part out about my mom calling and just have more time with Konstantin. What I don’t want to do is face the reality of this latest dilemma. Two weeks flat out is not enough time.

  “We’re going to have to live down here,” I grumble.

  Zoe nods her head in agreement. “Bron is going to hate it,” she grimaces.

  It’s my turn to nod in agreement because Konstantin will despise it. He’s used to at least having me for a few hours in the evenings. I have a feeling we won’t even have that now.

  “They’ll have to survive. This performance is more important than their dicks,” Peter grunts.

  Zoe gasps and I roll my eyes.

  “Only people who aren’t getting any say shit like that,” I laugh. Peter scowls and tips his chin up, and that’s how I know I’ve hit the nail on the head.

  Our instructor claps signaling the end of our break, and we hurry to our feet to work on our first routine. Everything is forgotten as soon as the music begins and I focus on what I need to focus on—the dance.

  “Bye guys, see you bright and early,” Zoe calls out as we walk out of the studio.

  It’s so dark outside, and I glance down at the phone in my hand to see that it’s past one in the morning. Shit. My eyes clash with Konstantin’s angry gaze, and I stumble backward a little before I straighten my spine. I make my way toward him, trying to ignore the crack of pissed off air surrounding him.

  “Where in the fuck have you been?” he demands.

  We both start to walk toward our building, and I let out a sigh. I have at least fifteen missed calls on my phone, fifty text messages, and at least five angry voicemails. I ignored them all. Not because I was mad or trying to be a bitch, but because I was trying to focus. What I didn’t need were outside distractions.

  “Practice,” I shrug.

  Konstantin growls but doesn’t respond until we’ve reached our building.

  “At the end of the day, I am still your guard. I need to know where you are at all times.”

  I stop walking and turn to face him, wishing I didn’t have to look up into his angry gaze. “You knew where I was. We have two weeks to get this show ready. Two. I need to focus. What I don’t need is for you to be crazy and possessive.”

  Something flashes in Konstantin’s eyes and he lifts his chin. “Okay,” he hums calmly.

  His tone causes my steps to falter. It’s too calm. I try to ignore the way he’s completely changed his behavior and how he doesn’t seem angry anymore.

  When we arrive at my door, I wait for him to open it. Walking inside, I drop my dance bag to the floor and turn around, expecting him to be right behind me. He isn’t though. Instead, he’s standing in the doorway, the door still open.

  “Konny?” I ask in confusion.

  There is zero emotion on his face, he looks like a statue almost, like a painting as he stares at me. “What time do you need to be at your classes?” he asks, his tone eerie.

  “Konstantin?” I whisper.

  He doesn’t reply. I close the distance between us and place my hand on the center of his chest before I tip my head back to look up at him. His eyes are cold as they look down on me and I notice a muscle in his jaw twitch.

  “What time?” he repeats.

  “I have to be there at six, but Konstantin, what�
��s the matter?” I plead.

  He shakes his head once. “I’ll be at your door at five-thirty. Lock up,” he barks as he takes a step back from me.

  My hand falls away from his chest at the same time my eyes fill with tears. I watch him walk away from me. I watch him walk to his apartment, where I know Viveka is, and then I watch him slip inside. As soon as he does, I hurl my door closed, enjoying the way it slams and rattles the walls. Then I flip the locks closed, and stomp toward the shower. I need sleep. I need to sleep and focus on ballet. That fucking child next door can come to me when he’s pulled his head out of his ass.

  Once I’ve showered I crawl beneath my sheets and pinch my eyes closed tightly. I will myself not to cry. Though I fail. Tears fall, and there is nothing that I can do to control them. They fall, and fall, and fall, until eventually I find sleep.

  My alarm sounds what feels like minutes later. I heft myself out of bed and force myself into the shower. Once I’m dressed, I make my way into the kitchen and search for something to eat. There still isn’t much to choose from. I still haven’t been to the store. I grab a slice of leftover pizza, and a bottle of water. When I’m finished eating I make my way to the front door, opening it to the hallway.

  I blink at who is standing in front of me. It’s Lazar. He smiles, but it also looks a bit sad—like pity perhaps. Fuck that. Ignoring him, I march right over to Konstantin’s and pound on the door with my fist. When it swings open, I’m taken aback by Viveka who is standing in front of me wearing Konstantin’s shirt. I know it’s his because it’s the exact same pale blue one he was wearing last night when he walked me home.

  “Kiska,” she smirks, looking entirely too fucking smug. “How can I help you?”

  Ignoring her, I storm past her, checking her with my shoulder. I hear her laugh behind me and it enrages me even more. Konstantin is nowhere in the living room or kitchen, so I head toward the bedroom. The floorplan is the same as my place, I know exactly where it is. When I throw open the door, I gasp.

  He’s lying in his bed, the sheet only pulled up to his waist. I watch as his eyes open, and he looks around before he pushes up on his arm.

  “What the hell?” I whisper.

  Viveka skirts past me and walks over to the bed to sit down on the end. Konstantin looks from her to me, and he frowns. I watch as everything starts to click together. He jumps to his feet, and I whimper. He’s completely naked.

  “Kiska…”

  “If you tell me it’s not what it looks like I’ll have my father kill you myself,” I state.

  He doesn’t even try to put pants on to cover up, he rushes toward me, and I try to back away from him, but I slam up against the wall instead.

  “Nothing happened,” he rasps, placing his hand next to my head.

  “Bullshit,” I spit.

  He shakes his head, letting his hand fall and taking a step back. “You know what. This is easier anyway. You’re right. It’s bullshit,” he states.

  I watch that cold expression cross over his features again, and the muscle in his jaw tick.

  “I have to go to practice,” I mutter turning around.

  “Lazar is in charge of you until I can find another Byki,” he announces.

  I nod. “Fine,” I tell the doorway, refusing to look back at him.

  I walk away from him.

  I walk away from him standing naked in his bedroom, that whore of his wearing nothing but his shirt and a smile.

  I walk away knowing that, that man holds my heart and he’s crushing it.

  I walk away knowing that I should have never started anything with him. I’m a taken woman—contracted to my own badman. I don’t need more than fucking one of them.

  I watch her go. It’s what’s best for her. I crossed the line last night, letting my own possessiveness and controlling nature take over. I knew she was dancing. I knew because I snuck in and assured myself that it was all she was doing. She was beautiful. Her body twisting, turning, leaping as though it was completely effortless. All I could think was that the things I wanted to do to that delicate body, they would ruin her.

  “You did the right thing,” Viveka grins as she wraps her hand around my wrist and gives it a squeeze.

  I shake free from her grasp. I’m hungover as fuck. Last night I drank myself fucking stupid, stripped down and passed out in bed. I had forgotten that Viveka was already sleeping in the same bed. It wasn’t intentional. I was hurting, already pained with regret of what needed to be done today. Having her appear as though we’d just fucked makes it all the easier for Kiska to walk away. She’ll hate me forever, but at least I won’t have physically harmed her.

  I lower my head and wrap my hand around the back of my neck. “What you did was fucking mean. What I did was fucking cruel,” I growl.

  Turning away, I don’t give her a chance to respond before I lock myself away in my bathroom. I’m in need of a hot shower and to get my ass to work. I’m still bringing Entin down. I need to figure out who is fucking with our shipments, and I have a fucking brothel to run. Viveka goes back to work tonight.

  Once I’m showered, I change into a suit and make my way out into the living room. “When will you move into the house with the others?” I ask as I pour myself a coffee.

  Viveka doesn’t speak, so I lift my head to look at her.

  “I thought you might want to keep me, now that she’s gone,” she whispers. She’s still wearing my shirt, and the sight of it on her body pisses me off. It’s not hers to wear, it’s Kiska’s.

  “Viveka,” I sigh, setting my full cup of coffee down in the sink.

  She stands and rushes over to me, her hand fisting in my shirt and her eyes pleading. “Kon, please listen. I’m good with the girls. I’m damn good. I can run the stable and help you out there. I can be what you need me to be in the bedroom, too. You know me, and I know you. There are no surprises between us. Don’t torture yourself with this girl. We can have a good life,” she announces. I watch as her eyes turn glassy with unshed tears.

  “Fuck,” I hiss. “I don’t want to hurt you, Viv, but Kiska…” I let the words trail off.

  I don’t know how to finish the thought. How to express just how I feel about her. I love Kiska. I care for Viveka, but it’s nothing like the way I feel for my sladkaya.

  “Just. Just think about it, Kon. Think about you and me. We could be happy,” she chokes.

  I shake my head and leave her standing in the kitchen. Once I’ve reached the front door, I turn back to her. “All your notes and schedules are on the computer for me at the house, yeah?” I ask.

  Her head snaps up, and I see anger dance in her eyes. Unfortunately, for her, I don’t give much of a fuck. I’m broken. A broken man who fell in love with a woman who was not his to fall for. A broken man who knew what he was doing, but fucking dove in head first anyway.

  “Yeah,” she whimpers.

  I walk out of the apartment. I need to breathe. I need coffee and maybe a bottle of vodka. I need to work, and I need to focus. I cannot think about Kiska, about her piece of shit fiancé, and I definitely cannot think about Viveka right now.

  Hurrying to my car, I drive toward Timofei. I need to talk to him about these fucking shipments. This is my main focus, next to the brothel. I speed through the city, making my way to Brighton Beach in no time at all. Once I’ve arrived to Timofei’s home, I jog up the stairs and ring the bell.

  “Hey,” a sweet voice calls out and I look down to see Tim’s sweet little Irish wife, Devyn.

  “What’re you doing answering the door?” I chuckle. “It’s too fucking early anyway.”

  She shakes her head, opening the door wider. “Come inside, he’s in his office already,” she states, rolling her eyes.

  I wrap my hand around her shoulder and give her an affectionate squeeze as I walk past her. Timofei is right where she said he would be, sitting behind his large desk. When he senses me walk into the room, he looks up, and he scowls. I close the door behind me, assured that he’
s going to scream and yell at me.

  “You’ve fallen for her,” he announces.

  I lift my chin and sit in the chair. “I love her.”

  “She’s contracted to Entin,” he announces as though I don’t fucking know that.

  I nod once before I continue. “She is, which is why I broke it completely off this morning. Although, I still don’t think he’s good enough for her and I’m prepared to prove that shit.”

  “When you prove that he is, indeed, not good enough for her, as we all know, what will your plans be then?” he asks.

  I stand and walk over to his window to look out into his neighborhood. “Nothing. My plans are nothing. She should be free. She should do what she loves, which is dance. What she shouldn’t be is saddled to any one of us.”

  Timofei begins to laugh, and I tip my head to the side to look over at him, curiously. He stands up and continues to chuckle as he walks closer to me. “None of us are good enough for any of them, Konny. What we are, are men who are able to protect them.”

  “I can protect her without being her man,” I shrug.

  His hand lands on my shoulder, and he gives it a squeeze. “Will watching her fall in love with another, becoming his wife, and eventually birthing his children, will that be something that you can stand back and watch happen? I know that I couldn’t watch that with my Devyn, not in a million years,” he murmurs.

  “Nyet,” I say, my voice thick.

  “You’re protecting her from you, aren’t you?” I stay silent, not wishing to voice what he already knows to be the truth. He is right. I am protecting her from me, one hundred percent. “If she loves you, and you her, then there is nothing to protect her from when it comes to you, Konny. She knows what kind of man you are, she knows what she’s getting.”