“You’ll stay inside with Zoe and the rest of your guards. Do not answer the doors, do not open your windows. Do not answer your phone. I will be in contact with your Byki if there is an issue. If something doesn’t sound right, listen to your gut, sladkaya.”
Kiska reaches over and wraps her hand around my wrist, giving it a squeeze, only then do I turn my head to face her.
“It will be okay, Konny.” I shake my head. “It will be okay, and I’ll tell you why,” she states her voice strong and firm. “It will be fine because I choose you, Konstantin and you choose me. No matter what happens we will always find a way back to each other.”
“You’re talking as though you’re doomed, and you’re being dramatic,” I chuckle.
She smiles and leans forward, pressing her lips to the corner of my mouth. “You’re dramatic too. It will be okay,” she whispers.
I grunt as my response, then I shake out of her grasp and open my door. I don’t want to be a sitting duck in this car for a second longer. Kiska slips out of her seat as well and is standing next to the car waiting for me by the time I walk around to the other side. Together, we walk toward the staircase and climb up toward our floor.
Once we arrive in front of her door, I unlock it and hold it open for her to enter. Zoe and Bronislav are sitting on her sofa, Lazar at the kitchen bar and the other Byki is leaning against the wall, his eyes zeroed in on us, assessing us before he relaxes. Locking the door behind me, I place my hand on her back and gently push her toward the sofa.
Lifting my chin to Lazar, and then the other man, before doing the same to Bron I walk into the kitchen.
“There will be more Byki outside of this door, but the two of you are in charge of Zoe and Kiska. That fuck knows I’m with her. He talked to me outside of the ballet tonight. He’s a sick piece of shit, and he’s stupid, which means he’s more dangerous than just some sick piece of shit.”
“Why’s that?” Lazar asks.
Bronislav speaks before I do. “Because that means he’s reckless. He’s a sick fuck, and he’s willing to take risks that smarter men wouldn’t take. A smart man would have a plan, like we’re going to. A stupid fuck will just do some crazy ass shit and get everybody killed.”
I couldn’t say it better myself, so all I do is nod my head in agreement. Akim is both a sick fuck and a stupid fuck. I’m worried for Kiska, for her safety and for her sanity. If he gets ahold of her, I have no doubt that my strong woman would indeed break.
“I will call you with updates. Trust no one else but me and Bron,” I state to the two men.
They both lift their chins in acknowledgment. Turning to Kiska, I make my way over to her. I can’t make a big scene in front of these men, but I will kiss my woman. Bending down, I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and brush my mouth against hers before I slip my tongue between her lips.
“Be good, sladkaya,” I murmur against her mouth.
“Always, baby,” she sighs back, low enough for just my ears. Releasing her with a grin, I give her a wink before Bron, and I leave them.
“I don’t want to leave them,” Bronislav rumbles as we make our way to my car.
I shake my head once. “They’ll be okay,” I lie. I don’t know why but I have a foreboding feeling myself, and it keeps getting worse with each mile I drive away from my Kiska.
I watch him go. I’m worried, completely and totally nervous. I’ve been on lockdown before, many times actually. But this feels different. There is something wrong. Like Konstantin is walking into a trap.
“It’s going to be okay. I mean I don’t know what’s going on, but I know it’ll be all right,” Zoe nods as she wraps her hand around mine and gives it a squeeze.
I look over to her, feeling envious of her, of her life. I speak without thinking. “They’re Russian mafia, Zoe. It may not all be okay.”
Her lips turn up in a curve and then she laughs. “Don’t try and scare me,” she says.
I stare at her, just watching her and waiting, waiting for it to really process in her head. When it does, her breath hitches and I see something akin to fear cross her features.
“Not my Bron?” she gasps. I nod, and her eyes bug out even more than they already are. She places her hand against her chest. “Kiska, it can’t be,” she says through trembling lips. “We live together, I think I would know.”
I snort. “It can, and it is. And all of this, this bullshit, it’s all my fault,” I moan.
Without sparing her any details at all, I tell her everything. I tell her about my father, about the contract with Akim, and I tell her just how dangerous it is that I’ve been sleeping with Konstantin.
“I’m so confused,” she sighs. She’s not confused, she’s shocked. I can tell the difference.
I deliver my final blow, though I don’t know why I’m feeling the need to tell her all of this. Maybe misery loves company, and maybe fear needs a friend. I don’t know. “It’s why I mentioned marriage. Bron wanted to tell you who he was, but you wouldn’t be allowed to live if you knew and you weren’t his wife.”
“Ohmygod. Ohmygod. What-what happens now?” she breathes.
I shrug. “Guess you’ll be bound in holy matrimony. Welcome to the club,” I sigh, laying back against the couch.
“Why did you tell me all of this?” she moans, lying back against the couch as well.
I turn my head to face her. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why,” I whisper as tears fill my eyes. I feel like a bitch. Like a selfish fucking bitch.
Zoe wraps her hand around my wrist and she gives it a squeeze. “You needed a friend. You can’t keep all that shit in,” she mutters. “Good thing I love Bron and you,” she sighs.
“Fuck.”
“That’s about the long and short of it,” she quips.
There’s a knock on the door and both of us jump. I watch as Lazar walks over to us and stands right in front of where we are while the other Byki walks over to the door. He swings it open, and I peek around Lazar with a gasp.
“Pack a bag,” the voice announces from the doorway.
“Hold up, who in the fuck are you?” Lazar shouts.
Standing, I shake off Zoe’s grip when she tries to hold me back. “It’s okay, Lazar. I know him,” I whisper.
“Konstantin said…”
He throws back his head laughing. “I outrank Skumin any day of the week, kid.” He slices his eyes to the other Byki who must know who he is because he hasn’t moved, except to shift to the side to allow him into the apartment. “Get your shit, Kiska girl,” he demands.
Lifting my chin, I do as he asks. I grab my bag and throw a few things in. I knew my ballet career, my dreams, were too much to hope for. I knew when I came out here that it was all just a pipe dream, that it would be yanked away from me before I had completed my three years. I had hoped though—stupidly I had hoped.
“Kiska, don’t go,” Zoe pleads as I walk past her with a small bag in my hand. There isn’t much inside, a few changes of clothes and nothing else really.
I ignore her pleading. If I speak, I’ll cry. I walk right over to the man and fall into line at his side. After all, he’s my father.
THE OLEANDR’S PARKING LOT is empty, save for a few black cars that I know must belong to the men we’re going to meet. Bronislav doesn’t speak, and I’m glad for the silence. This meeting will have enough talking going on, I’m sure. We exit the car and walk inside, thankful that the backdoor guardsman recognizes me and allows us entry without a hassle.
We make our way to the back room where collection usually takes place. The atmosphere is heavy, almost suffocating. When we arrive to the conference room, it only gets worse, causing me to physically choke. Yakov, Dominik, and Timofei are sitting at a round table. Bronislav and I join them, sitting down before a word is spoken.
“We’re sending the women, and children, away to a safe house upstate. Zoe and Kiska are more than welcome to join them,” Yakov murmurs as his greeting.
“Their performa
nce…” Bronislav mutters.
I hold my hand up and cut my eyes to him. “Won’t matter if this crazy bastard gets ahold of them.”
He presses his lips together and nods, his face turning an angry color of red. “We know where he’s staying. Why don’t we use our snipers to off him?” Dominik asks with a shrug.
“We don’t want his lover sending some kind of text if that shit is even true. I personally don’t want to find out,” Timofei mutters.
All of the men grunt and stare at the table, unsure of what to do. “We can’t technically hire a hit on him. But what if a couple of us went in there while they were asleep and ended them all?” Bronislav asks.
Yakov and Dominik grunt, but Timofei turns his head to look directly at me. He knows about Viveka, that she and I have been friends since we were children. “I think it’s time you tell us exactly who Viveka is to you, Konny,” Timofei states.
I nod. I didn’t want to talk about it, not ever. I’ve never even told Kiska exactly who she was to me. The time has come, and they need to know.
“There was a time, most of my life actually, where Viveka was my best friend. Her father was in the organization as was mine. My father liked his women, and her father enjoyed using his fists to get his point across, especially with his family,” I begin.
“Both of our mothers were neglectful, for different reasons of course. We became friends. Innocent at first because we were only children. Viveka started to change as we grew older. I didn’t understand it. At ten she was running around with boys, drinking, and smoking. I found her passed out drunk in her yard once. I demanded that she tell me what was wrong. Her father had been selling her to his friends to use. Ten years old.” I shake my head in disgust.
The other men in the room lower their gazes to the tables. Not wishing to, but needing to, I continue, “I told my father, but he didn’t care, told me it wasn’t our business. My mother said the same. I was twelve at the time.
“I killed her father in his sleep. Sliced his neck with my own father’s knife. Viveka was sent away after that. I was also sent away for training. After all, I’d had my first kill already. When I could, when I was Bratva, I found her.
“She was already a call girl, and by then I had certain appetites, of my own. She allowed me to fulfill them using her body, a thank you for being her friend, and killing her father. I didn’t end her nightmare, though. She never talked about where she’d been sent but her haunted eyes, I knew it had been nowhere good.”
Timofei wraps his hand around my shoulder and gives me a squeeze. “You cannot carry the guilt of what was done to her. Also, she is old enough to make the right decisions. Siding with Akim against you, against us, is not that.”
“She wanted me to choose her, to marry her and give her children. I refused,” I mutter.
“Viveka knows how you feel about Kiska. Jealousy is fueling her fire now, and she’s making stupid decisions, stupid decisions that could result in killing innocent people,” Yakov states.
I lift my chin. “She knows exactly what she’s doing. She is not the girl I once knew, she’s a woman, and you’re right, she’s making stupid decisions. If that costs her, her life, then that’s what it costs.” I shrug attempting to look indifferent. I’m not though. I will mourn the girl I once knew when she dies, because she will die.
“Viveka is safe in the knowledge that you love her, as a friend, if not more. They will not expect us to go after them,” Dominik murmurs.
I lift my chin in agreement, and that’s when we make a plan for the next evening, early morning, to kill Akim, Viveka, and Josef in their sleep. We discuss different options, if we want to poison their water or if we want to just sneak in and handle it. Then we also talk about the fact that Entin could have put hits out on the women, and if he did, how do we protect them?
“If he’s got a hit out there, it isn’t with the Bratva. I get messages from the organization every time there is a job posted,” Bronislav announces. “That doesn’t mean that there aren’t other men in the area or other networks to contact them through,” he states.
“The networks are too large to try and find out in the little window of time that we have,” Yakov states as he rubs his temple.
I scrub my hand over my face. “He could have brought them with him,” I mutter, thinking aloud.
Yakov chuckles. “The scared fuck probably did bring them with him.”
“He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed,” I smirk. “I wonder…”
“If he brought his fucking father’s men with him?” Dominik asks.
All of the men around the table nod their heads in agreement. This is something a coward like Akim would definitely do. The stupid shit.
“Do we chance calling his father?” I ask.
Yakov and Timofei both shake their heads in unison. “If he did, and his father told us, he’d call Akim and ask him what the fuck is going on. We can’t chance him giving Akim a heads up. In fact, I don’t want anybody else in on this mission tomorrow night,” Yakov states.
“Let’s plan this shit,” I grumble.
I want everything done and over with. I want the pain from murdering Viveka to come and go quickly. I know that it will hurt, that it will cause my heart to ache, but my heart would cease to exist if something happened to my Kiska. She is what is most important here. I’m doing this for her, and for us.
I know that the other men are doing it for her too, but they’re doing it more importantly for the Bratva. This fucker thinks that he can change the contract with his fiancée, and kill a good Pakhan because of greed?
Fuck that.
Akim will not win. He will not win rule over his father’s territory, and he will not win Kiska. No way in hell. I’ll die insuring that, that shit doesn’t happen.
“You’ll understand when you’re older,” he says as the plane taxies the runway.
I press my lips together, and I refuse to speak to him. It’s childish, I know. Yet, I’m so angry that I know I’ll say something that I cannot take back. So I stay quiet.
He sighs. “I’m doing this to keep you safe, Kiska. You are my number one priority, you, your mother, your sister and brother.”
My father. My fucking father walked right up to my apartment door and demanded I go with him. Kirill Baryshev used his rank to take me from my home, from my new life. I feel like I’m physically choking under his stronghold of me.
“Why did you even allow me to go?” I whisper as the plane ascends into the clouds.
I don’t bother looking at him, still unable to look into his gray eyes.
“I thought I could give you some freedom. I thought that between Timofei and Yakov that they could keep you safe. I thought that you could keep yourself safe and out of trouble. Then your grandfather calls me and tells me otherwise.”
“My grandfather?” I breathe.
He grunts and I wait for his response. It feels like it takes a lifetime. “He’s given your Konstantin his full support. He likes you two together. Even though it goes against what I’ve stated I want for you, and what is in your actual goddamn contract.”
Staying silent I wait, knowing that my father isn’t finished. “I wanted Konstantin for you. I made no secret about it. I all but begged him. When I chose Akim, I did it never imagining that the contract would actually go through. I thought Konstantin would speak up before it was signed. You’re a printsessa, and he’s only a Brigadier. He should have jumped at the chance to have you.”
“Konstantin wanted his future wife to choose him, not be contracted. He wouldn’t have even agreed to a contracted marriage, not with me, or anybody else,” I whisper.
My father doesn’t speak again, and as the minutes tick by, I know that he won’t. Not anytime soon anyway. He’s angry, with me, with Konstantin, and if I’m reading him correctly, with himself.
After about two hours of silence, I decide to speak. “What happens now?” I whisper.
“Now?” I nod waiting for him to continue, an
d thankfully he does. “Now, you go home. We wait to see how this shit plays out. I could demand Konstantin’s death if I desired it, you know?”
Looking out of the window, I brush my fingers beneath my eye to rid myself of the tear that had fallen. “Akim could demand mine as well,” I whisper.
“He could. But I have you with me so it will not happen.”
Sucking in a deep breath. “Konstantin is going to worry sick over my whereabouts,” I admit.
My father nods. “He’ll know exactly where you are. The Byki knew who I was, even if that young punk kid didn’t. He’ll know that I’m keeping you under my umbrella of protection. He can come to me like a man if he wants you, if he truly wants you.”
I press my lips together as the tears begin to fall down my cheeks. “He’ll feel betrayed, Papa. It was his job to protect me.”
My father wraps his hand around my knee and gives me a gentle squeeze. “I know you feel that way, and I’m sure he does as well, Kiska. However, the reality is that until you’re legally bound to another, I am your protector. I am in charge of you, not him. Me and Akim.”
“I hate Akim, Papa. He’s disgusting and the most vile human on this planet,” I hiss.
My father quirks an eyebrow at me and shakes his head once. “I highly doubt that he’s the most vile human on the planet,” he murmurs. “I’ve met some pretty disgusting fuckers.”
Without responding or going into detail about how much I detest the man, I lean my head against the window, and I close my eyes. I force myself to fall asleep, though it isn’t by much because I’m exhausted as all hell.
What feels like seconds later, my father is shaking my shoulder and announcing that we’ve landed. I let out a sigh and stand, following him down the airplane steps and toward the black SUV that is waiting for us. Slipping into the backseat, I watch as he gathers my bag and shakes the pilot’s hand. All I want to do is go back to sleep. I want to sleep until I wake up from this awful nightmare.
Chosen by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 9) Page 17
