Chosen by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 9)

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Chosen by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 9) Page 15

by Hayley Faiman


  “No, she doesn’t.”

  He shakes his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, my friend. She does. Her eyes are assuredly wide open, especially with the woman she is and the life she’s had. She is not some sheltered dove, do not think so little of her that she doesn’t know exactly who and what you are.”

  “Why do you care so much? Why do you want me to have her? She’s contracted, this goes against everything.”

  He sucks in a breath before he turns away and walks back to his desk, sitting down in his chair before he speaks. “Akim Entin is a piece of shit. You are, you. I put you on her because I knew that you would do your job and do it well. I also put you on her because I thought if there was a woman out there for you, it would probably be Kiska Barysheva. Beautiful, talented, strong, and independent, Kiska.”

  “Entin?”

  Timofei waves his hand in the air. “He’s dirty. You say the word, and I’ll find something on him immediately. Kirill will probably be grateful for it. Entin was not his first choice, he’s a boy who comes from a good family—his family being the only reason that contract was drawn up.”

  “Who was his first choice?” I ask hesitantly.

  “You, Konstantin. You were his first choice. You’re older than he would like for his daughter, but you are a good man, and he knows it—a trusted man. You would care for her, and you would treat her right.”

  “I didn’t today,” I grunt.

  Timofei ignores my words. “Would you hurt her in anyway, ever, if she were yours?” he asks.

  “Never.”

  “Do you want her. Would you choose her?” His words send a pang of guilt throughout my entire being. I’ve hurt her today, hurt her heart, and it wasn’t nice. I’m not sure she would, or should, ever forgive me for it. I don’t hesitate to answer him though.

  “If I could choose, yes, Timofei, she is who I would choose.”

  He lifts his chin. “You focus on the shipments and your girls. Leave Entin to me, yeah?”

  “Tim,” I warn.

  He smiles at me, and it looks like pure fucking evil. “Konny. Let your Pakhan worry about Akim, yeah?”

  “Fuck,” I grunt. “Yeah.”

  I IMMERSE MY MIND, body, and soul into dance, willing myself to forget anything and everything—Konstantin. It doesn’t work. Each day I walk out of my apartment door I’m disappointed when he isn’t standing on the other side when it’s Lazar that greets me instead. Then that same wave of disappointment washes over me each and every time I walk out of the studio after grueling hours of practice, and he’s not there.

  “You look tired,” Lazar announces.

  It’s one o’clock in the morning, and the show opens in just two days. I haven’t slept but a few hours the past two weeks.

  I’m exhausted.

  The only answer I have is a shrug and he shakes his head, staying silent the rest of the walk home. Once we’re inside of the building, I feel as though the air has shifted. There is a kind of doom surrounding us. I glance to Lazar, and his back has stiffened, proving that he feels it as well.

  Together we climb the stairs and only when we’re on my floor do I realize what has the air crackling around us. Akim is standing at my door, a scowl on his face. Lazar reaches for his gun, but I wrap my hand around his wrist.

  “It’s my fiancé,” I whisper.

  His brows lift a fraction, and then I watch him reach for his phone. I assume he’s going to call, Konstantin, though I don’t see why since he won’t care. I continue to close the distance between Akim and me. His head lifts when he senses my presence, and his eyes darken, then narrow the closer I get to him.

  “Just where in the fuck have you been all night?” he barks.

  Refusing to shrink under his loud voice or his angry tone, I straighten my spine and lift my chin slightly. “I was at rehearsal. I have a show in two days,” I simply state as though he doesn’t already know these facts.

  “What in the fuck kind of school has you practicing until after one in the morning?” he asks, crossing his arms over his large chest. “And where is your goddamn ring?”

  I open my mouth to give some smart-assed answer when Konstantin appears out of nowhere. I don’t see him, but his voice washes over me. A voice I haven’t heard in almost two weeks, a voice I’ve missed.

  “The best school,” he announces.

  Akim’s head turns to look behind me, his eyes sharpen, and then he glances to the other side of me where I assume Lazar is standing. “And who the fuck are you?” he growls.

  “Konstantin Skumin,” he states as though he’s bored. I inhale sharply when I feel his heat against my back.

  Akim grunts, lifting his chin to Konstantin. “Go inside, Kiska. I’ll be at your little show, I expect you’ll have a couple days reprieve once you’re finished?” he asks.

  “I have five shows in a row, one Friday night, two Saturday and two Sunday. Then I have one week off, yes,” I admit.

  Konstantin’s hand presses against my lower back and it takes everything inside of me not to melt back against his touch.

  “Good. Inside, now,” he demands.

  I do as he says, mainly because I don’t want to talk to him anymore. Secondly, because I need to get the hell away from Konstantin. I don’t bother looking at any of the men in the hall as I hurry into my apartment. I close the door, locking it behind me quickly.

  I’m honestly too tired to think about the fact that my fiancé and my ex-lover are standing in my hallway. Instead, I make my way toward my bathroom and take a quick hot shower, wishing that I could take a warm bath to soak my sore muscles. Then I quickly dry off and put on a tank and sleep shorts before slipping between my sheets.

  Closing my eyes, it takes me just a few seconds to fall asleep. What feels like only a minute later I hear a noise and then my bed dips. I open my mouth to scream when a hand is clamped over it, and a deep voice whispers in my ear.

  “Quiet, sladkaya,” Konstantin barks, releasing my mouth.

  I roll over from my side, onto my back to look into his dark gaze, luckily the moon is bright enough that I can see his face. “What the hell are you doing here?” I hiss.

  He doesn’t speak, he just looks at me, his eyes moving over my face before focusing on mine. “He can’t have you,” he states.

  “You’re confusing,” I sigh.

  He nods as his hand cups my cheek, and his thumb drags across my bottom lip. “I know,” he grunts.

  I don’t stop him. When his hand leaves my face and begins to tug on my pajamas, I actually lift my arms to assist in his removal of my top, then I lift my hips so that he can tug my shorts off. My entire body shivers when his fingers slide through my folds, I even widen my legs to allow his hips to fall easily between them.

  “Konstantin,” I whimper as exhausted tears fill my eyes.

  Shoving my face into his neck, I let out a muffled cry when he enters me. One of his hands tangles in the back of my hair, gripping me tightly. Lifting my legs, I wrap them high around his waist, groaning when he slips deeper inside of me.

  “I love you,” he rasps against my ear. “That will never change,” he groans.

  I don’t speak, afraid my words will come out in unintelligible sobs. Konstantin doesn’t say anything else either. He lifts his head slightly so that he can look into my eyes, the moon casting a glow from the window.

  I feel his body move against mine, his cock filling me over and over again as his eyes never break away from mine. My body climbs higher and higher with each of his thrusts, and only when I topple over the edge into a blissful, slow, rolling, climax do I close my eyes.

  Konstantin growls, and his thrusts become harder, jerkier, and then I feel his cock twitch as he fills me with his own release. Slowly, I allow my eyes to open and stare up into his dark ones. He’s still planted deep inside of me, his face stony serious, and his jaw clenched. Without speaking, he lowers so that his lips brush mine.

  “Why are you here?” I whisper after I’ve ca
ught my breath.

  Konstantin shakes his head once, releasing his hold on my hair before he backs away, slipping from my body. I roll to my side and watch him stand from my bed, wishing that he would wrap me up in his arms. Foolishly wishing that he would tell me the past two weeks have all been a nightmare, that none of it was real.

  “Answer me, dammit,” I hiss.

  His eyes widen, and he sits down on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. I crawl up behind him and wrap my arms around his middle, pressing my cheek against the center of his back. I inhale his scent, feeling his warmth, and enjoying him in this space. Maybe it will be the last time, or maybe not, I don’t really know—but I’m going to enjoy every damn second of it.

  “I want to do right by you,” he exhales. “I’m not good for you. The things I want to do to you, they’re not good or right. I want to hurt you, sladkaya. I want to watch you cry, and what we’ve done, that’s just a taste of what I want.”

  “I like everything we’ve done, baby,” I whisper.

  He shakes his head and lets out a breath. “What if I hurt you and you couldn’t dance anymore? What if I really hurt you? Other women, it hasn’t mattered.”

  “Other women, meaning Viveka?” I ask. His muscles bunch beneath my cheek, and he growls.

  “Nothing happened with her. It was easier to force you away if you believed it. I got drunk and passed out. I fucking forgot she was even staying in my place at the time,” he admits.

  My breathing starts to falter at his words, and I feel a little lightheaded. I’m trying to decide if I believe him when he turns around and gathers me in his arms, dragging me to sit on his lap, draped across his thighs.

  Konstantin cups my cheek with his palm and his eyes look deep into mine before he speaks. “Viveka broached the topic of us being together again,” he shakes his head. “There was no way. Even if I can’t have you, sladkaya, I do not want her. She’s back to work, she’s been back to work for almost two weeks. There is only you for me,” he whispers as his eyes close, and he presses his forehead against mine.

  “You let me believe,” I say through trembling lips.

  His head nods against my own. “I know I did. It’s easier to stay far away from you if you hate me.”

  “That’s fucking awful.”

  He chuckles, lifting his head from mine, a small smile tipping his lips. “It is, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t you ever do that to me again,” I warn.

  His small smile grows, and he nods. “Never again. We still have to deal with the fact that your fiancé is here though.”

  Shaking my head, I close my eyes for a beat. “I refuse to deal with him or that fact,” I state.

  Konstantin’s hand wraps around the side of my neck, giving me a gentle squeeze before he speaks. “In some ways, you are so very innocent, my Kiska,” he exhales. “I won’t allow him to touch you. By Sunday, he will only be a memory.”

  “What does that mean?” I whisper.

  Konstantin’s eyes flash, but I don’t understand it, at all. He lowers his head, and his lips gently brush mine, staying there as he speaks. “Don’t worry about it. Trust me, yeah?”

  “I have the right to know,” I breathe.

  His lips brush my own, again, then lift. His dark eyes look directly into mine, they’re intense, but I don’t completely understand them. “Trust me,” he states again.

  The look in his eyes is stern and serious. There is no room for question so I do the only thing that I can. I nod. I don’t know how I feel about trusting him right now, but he’s giving me no choice but to. My alarm sounds. Konstantin reaches for my phone and turns it off.

  “Seriously, sladkaya. Allow me to take care of all this shit with Akim,” he murmurs. “You need to focus on your show, nothing else.”

  “Will you come to me again?”

  He grins and nods his head. “Yeah, I’ll come to you,” he breathes.

  “You’re not going to push me away like that again, are you?” I ask, knitting my brows together.

  Konstantin presses his thumb to the center of my brows and forces them to relax before he speaks. “Not purposely, no. I thought I could protect you from me, but truthfully, I love you too much to stay away.”

  “Let me worry about what I can handle, and what I can’t. I’ll be sure to let you know,” I grin.

  He smiles and wraps his hands around my waist giving me a gentle squeeze. “Go and get ready for your day,” he grins before his lips brush mine. “Lazar will still escort you this weekend to and from your performances. I have some other things to handle, unfortunately, I won’t be around much. He’ll be reporting to me constantly though.”

  I nod, slipping from his lap to stand on the floor. I don’t move away from him though, I cup his cheek with my hand, bending over slightly to press my lips to his, peeking my tongue out to taste his lips. Standing up straight and releasing his cheek, I sigh. “Until tonight, then?”

  “Yeah, until tonight,” he grunts.

  I walk into my bathroom, closing the door behind me and starting the shower. The bleakness of the past two weeks is now gone, replacing it with a brightness that I didn’t realize I’d missed so damn much.

  Hope—that brightness is hope. Not only hope for myself but for my future as well—a future with Konstantin. A happy future with him.

  I pull the cigarette out of the pack and light it. I try not to smoke these fuckers often, and I’ve even kicked the habit completely a few times, but today I need it. As soon as the nicotine hits my system, I feel a sense of calm come over me. A sense of calm that I know will disappear in probably a few short seconds.

  “Boss,” Bronislav grunts.

  I look to the man that has become somewhat of a friend. He was the only reason I knew that Entin was in town and waiting for Kiska at her place. His research has been spot on and allowed me the chance to lie in wait for Kiska to get back from her class. Lazar had called me as well, but I would have been too far out to get to her in time had I not received a heads up.

  “You were right, he was waiting for her.” Bronislav lifts his chin. “He also asked me to hook him up with a girl for the entire weekend.”

  “Sounds about right, from what I’ve heard about him anyway,” he grunts.

  I open my mouth to say something else but Timofei walks up behind us. We’re standing outside of the Bratva owned apartment building in Brighton Beach where I know Akim is residing for the entirety of his trip.

  “Boss,” Bronislav grimaces dipping his chin and down casting his eyes.

  “He’s got one of your girls up there?” Timofei asks. I grunt as my agreement. “Heard he asked for some blow and some guns.”

  “He did. Why would he need ten pieces of machinery for a visit to his fiancée?” I ask, taking another drag before I throw the stick on the ground and grind it with my heel.

  Timofei presses his lips together but doesn’t speak. Bronislav and I wait for a moment, then Bron is the one who speaks. “It’s rumored…I haven’t brought it up because I didn’t know if it was true. I wanted to know for sure,” he murmurs before he clears his throat.

  “It’s rumored that he doesn’t feel like his father is going to pass the reigns over to him. He’s watched fairly carefully when he’s at home. Rumor has it he’s slowly gathering a group of young soldiers to take over his father’s territory.”

  “And he’ll have a Bratva printsessa at his side, so nobody will go against him once his father is out of the picture,” Timofei states.

  I let out a sigh. Honest to fuck, I wonder when we’ll all stop going at each other’s throats? When will we ban as united, for more than a short time, or purely surface level. We have strict rules for a fucking reason, and if Entin takes out his father, he’s breaking one of them. I scrub my hand down my face.

  “He won’t have Kiska at his side,” I grunt, unsure of what else to say.

  Timofei took his father out, although his father was running his territory into the ground
and skimming from his own fucking men at the same time. The differences between Tim and Entin are like night and day though. From what I understand, Akim’s father is a good man and a good leader. Pasha, Timofei’s father, wasn’t. Plus, Timofei had several high ranking Pakhan’s at his back, not a few rogue soldiers.

  “Let’s go pay this little fucker a visit then,” Timofei smiles. I watch as Dominik appears at his side. Then Yakov, another powerful Pakhan as well.

  “Shit,” Bronislav mutters.

  Yakov grins, and the sight is downright fucking terrifying. “Shit is right. This fuck thinks he can come into our town and take our weapons to overthrow a good Pakhan, in an effort to throw a tantrum? Fuck that.”

  Yakov lifts his chin and begins to walk toward the apartment complex’s entrance. The five of us follow behind him. This is going to be a bad day for Entin, but if I’m lucky, it will be a good day for Kiska and me.

  I WATCH AS TIMOFEI slips the key into the lock and twist the knob. Silently we walk into the apartment. We all freeze when we hear a roar in the bedroom. Bronislav looks to me, his eyebrows practically disappearing into his hairline. Timofei chuckles but doesn’t stop walking toward the bedroom. We all file inside, and I wish to fuck that I could burn my eyes the minute they take in the scene.

  Viveka is bent over in the center of the bed, her face aimed toward us, Akim is behind her, his swarthy body bent over the back of hers, and behind him, some guy is fucking his ass. It’s not anything I could have been prepared for, at all. I think the rest feel the same way because we’re all just standing there, watching the scene in front of us.

  “Do you think she’s going to use that purple dildo in the other guy’s ass later?” Bronislav asks me.

  I can’t stop myself, my eyes shift to said purple dildo in the center of the bed, and I let out a bark of laughter.

  “Oh shit,” the stranger shouts and leaps off of the bed to stand in the corner of the room.

  Akim lifts his eyes and scowls toward us as he slowly eases out of Viveka’s body then stands near the other man, his cock hard and sticking straight out. Viveka looks at me, narrows her eyes and rolls off of the bed as well. They’re all three looking directly at us, naked as the day they were born.

 

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