Jaded Jewels (Born Bratva Book 7)

by Suzanne Steele

  “They say the Bratva gods will bring soulmates together, no matter where they are on this earth. Everybody in the Glazov family has experienced it and found their happiness because of it. Hell, even the Pakhan abducted his wife and forced her into marrying him. No, no, it’s true,” he assured her with a laugh when she reared back and scowled at his words. “The men here aren’t your garden variety males.” He rolled off her and pulled her close, nibbling her lower lip, tugging on it with his teeth. “They take what they want and make no apologies for it.”

  “Well, I can tell you this, I’ve never fucked a stranger before.”

  He growled at the thought of her fucking anyone. She wouldn’t be fucking anyone but him from here on out. He leaned in and kissed her forehead, telling her, “I know you haven’t. But I’m not a stranger anymore. And I can tell you what you are: mine. Your life and your home are here with me now. With Bratva. There are only two ways out of Bratva: death and prison, and even if you get locked up you’ll still be Bratva. I guess that leaves you only one way to escape your fate. Your life is in my hands now, Tatiana, and I will protect it with my own. Yes, your life is in my hands now, just like the rest of you…mine.”

  “What are you, then?”

  “That’s easy. I’m yours.”

  Chapter Thirty Three

  That stupid son of a bitch had to go and get caught and fuck everything up.

  As Volya sat in his car, staring at Glazov’s new storefront, he scowled at the memory of Joseph’s carelessness, the weakness that had brought their lucrative operation crashing down. Joseph’s demise left him alone to exact retribution on the Pakhan for Maverick’s death.

  Volya had been the mastermind behind the plan to avenge Maverick Vetrov. Maverick had believed himself to be Glazov’s brother, and it got him killed by Glazov and his goons. Volya had recruited Joseph to help him with his plan but greed had gotten Joseph killed. The Pakhan may not have dealt the death blow, but Maverick’s blood, and now Joseph’s, was, nonetheless, on his hands.

  What Volya chose to ignore was that Maverick had been stalking the wife of Alexander Glazov. He had used a high-powered camera to take photographs of Mrs. Glazov fucking her husband and in various states of undress. If Glazov hadn’t dealt with the offense brutally by executing Maverick, he would have appeared to be weak. If Volya had had any idea the kind of man the Pakhan was, he would have known that Glazov’s wife wasn’t just his spouse, she was his obsession. The thought of another man seeing her naked in her most intimate moments had sent Alexander Glazov into a rage that demanded lifeblood be spilled.

  But none of that mattered to Volya now. He felt Glazov had devoted his life to crushing his opponents and enriching his coffers at the expense of his fellow Russians; he deserved whatever he got. It was time for Glazov to pay the piper.

  He could relate to Maverick’s hatred of Glazov. The bastard had everything he didn’t: a beautiful wife, children to continue the Bratva legacy, and more money than he could spend in a hundred lifetimes. Attacking the man at the top of the food chain through his sister would devastate him and make the whole family pay.

  He was going to hit the Pakhan where it hurt: his family and his finances. No one knew Volya had been in on the diamond scam, so anonymity was still on his side. He knew how to get past just about any security system and he knew where to discreetly fence those diamonds, too. Sure, Alexander Glazov would bounce back, he always did, but Volya would be rich by then and beyond caring. He would retire and drink vodka on the beach, peaceful in the knowledge that he had avenged Maverick and Joseph.

  And he’d laugh as he sipped that ice-cold vodka, recalling how he’d gotten rich because he had sucked some diamonds into a Dirt Devil and worked the perfect scam.

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Bazarnik brought Tatiana back to his room for a shower and a fresh set of clothes, which he’d gotten from Roksana. She clutched a blanket around her as she looked around the room. Impressive.

  If this setup was anything to go by, the living quarters in the Glazov house were more like small apartments or suites you would see at a high-end hotel. Bazarnik’s bedroom had a large walk-in closet and a separate, smaller room that appeared to be an office. The room was furnished with an elegant, antique desk facing two elegant wingchairs. The computer and other office equipment were cutting edge, top of the line. It seemed that everything the Pakhan touched had an air of eccentric beauty and class.

  Tatiana snuck a look over her shoulder, making sure Bazarnik wasn’t around. She changed into the clothes he had left for her, just a fresh set of t-shirt and yoga pants, much like what she would have picked out herself at home. After folding the blanket and placing it at the end of the bed, she padded over to his dresser. She nearly stumbled when she saw the nesting doll she’d brought with her from Russia resting atop it, like it belonged there.

  She frowned as she ran her fingertip along the doll’s delicately painted face. Any other man who had intentions of holding a prisoner captive would have left it behind or carelessly thrown it away. What did it mean that he would not just salvage this precious possession of hers, but display it so prominently in his personal space?

  Above his bed hung a painting of a man, arms raised, flames shooting out of his body. All around him were countless faces, the flesh melting away from their bones. The only person who wasn’t yielding to the flames was the man who was the source of the inferno.

  She’d seen firsthand the destruction Bazarnik was capable of inflicting on his enemies. How strange that what would scare anyone else made her feel safe. She had one crazy motherfucker protecting her. The only person she needed to worry about not pissing off was the man who had captured her and was now holding her captive.

  She might be, for the moment, free from that cell in the basement, but she instinctively knew she would never be free of Bazarnik. Fucking him had only intensified his hold on her. He would take that physical act as a sign of possession and Bratva men were notoriously territorial when it came to their woman and children. Family was everything in Russian culture, but especially for Bratva.

  She continued looking around the room, opening drawers and closing them silently. She was curious to know more about him, and would use whatever means necessary to do it. He was a guarded man so persuading him to show his true colors would take time as she earned his trust – assuming she had that kind of time to work with.

  “Looking for something?”

  She wasn’t scared as she turned slowly to meet his gaze, her eyes drawn irresistibly down to his tatted, muscular chest. He was wearing nothing but jeans. “Yes, actually. I’m looking for you—just like you were looking for me when you went through my things and kept my doll.”

  He walked toward her, his steps deliberate, as if she were a skittish colt that might try to run from the room if he got too close too fast. He had no way of knowing that she didn’t run from danger; she ran toward it.

  Maybe that was why she was so drawn to him—he was danger personified. Everything about him screamed ‘trouble’ and everything in her wanted more of it. Sleeping with him had given her a taste of danger and she liked it.

  “What’s the story? Where did you get it? Was it a gift from a man?” A flash of anger lit his eyes so quickly that anyone else might have missed it.

  “There is no other man. In fact, there’s only been one in the past and that was nothing more than an awkward, clumsy fuck in the backseat of a car when I was a teenager. When I learned that sex wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, I decided I wasn’t fucking anybody again. I bought that nesting doll for my sister to remind her that we were family and we’d always be together. I never got to give it to her, though, because she overdosed on Hector’s dope. That’s why I went there to kill him, but you got there first.”

  He turned around to pull a shirt from the dresser drawer, smiling to himself at the obvious signs of her rifling through his belongings. “You would have never gotten out alive,” he said in an almost offhand way
.

  “That’s why I left when I did. I hadn’t thought it through but when I did, I knew I’d have to try something else.”

  As he raised his arms to position the shirt over his head, her attention was riveted on his back tattoo. The same image that hung over his bed covered his back, but this version seemed to come alive, moving as the muscles beneath it rippled.

  “I answered your question, now answer mine. What’s the deal with you and fire?”

  He chuckled, glancing at her over his shoulder. He turned around as he pulled the black t-shirt over his chest and tucked it into his jeans.

  “Ah, yes, fire and I go way back. I’m a full-blown pyromaniac. Bratva uses me to blow shit up and clean up crime scenes so no evidence can be gathered. The Pakhan is a great believer in putting one’s ‘gifts’ to use for the greater good. Glazov brought me here when his cleaner, who’s also his daughter, got pregnant.”

  “The chemicals.” It was a statement, not a question.

  He nodded, “Right.”

  She gestured toward the painting. “It’s amazing,” she remarked, watching his face carefully.

  His eyes warmed with unmistakable pride. “Thank you. I painted that. It’s my design, an image that had haunted my dreams for many years. When I finished the painting, seeing it there on canvas wasn’t enough, so I had it tatted on my back. I may not be able to see it myself without a mirror but I feel it there, all day.”

  “You’re talented; it’s really good.” The painting perfectly depicted the man’s anguish.

  “It’s all I’ve ever had: Bratva, books, and my art—that and fire. Fire was my favorite plaything,” he grinned at his use of the past tense. “Fire has always been my friend.”

  “Seriously, you should exhibit your art, maybe do demonstrations of what you can do with fire itself.”

  “Funny you say that. Glazov and Novak are tossing around the idea of opening a kink club.”

  “As a front?”

  “Yes and no. His business interests are legit now, but he’s not naïve. There will always be some element of crime because he’s Born Bratva. That’s how it will always be for us,” he said quietly.

  She knew without him saying so that she belonged to him now and, like it or not, that made her Bratva now, too. And to her surprise, she did like it. Her life had been in turmoil for a long time, ever since her sister’s wedding day, which had really been more like a funeral. But in a single day, her life had been jolted back on track by this man and his twisted fascination with fire…and her. Tatiana’s allegiance would be to Bazarnik and Bratva from this day forward.

  Glazov settled his speculative gaze on his cousin, whose lanky frame was draped over his usual chair next to Glazov’s desk. The epitome of arrogant self-assurance, Novak crossed his long legs at the ankle and laced his fingers behind his neck. There was no disrespect in his posture, he was simply settling in for what promised to be a long conversation.

  “What’s the word on our Russian prisoner downstairs?”

  “Prisoner, my ass,” Novak muttered. “Those two are fucking like rabbits and he’s taking her with him on a stakeout today.”

  “Good. If he’s claimed her as his she’ll be less likely to be disloyal. The fact that she’s Russian is a point in our favor as well; there will be a natural allegiance to Bratva. She’s brave; she went there to kill Hector herself. That says a lot about her. But I still want Bazarnik keeping a close eye on her. She needs to stay here with him. Does she have any family?”

  “Just a father but they’re not exactly close. She had a sister but her father sold her off to an American in a forced marriage.”

  With the marriage reference, Novak arched a sarcastic brow at Glazov, who returned the look coolly and murmured, “Pot, meet kettle.”

  “Touché, cuz. However, the marriage was a disaster. It was doomed from the start. She was abused. The guy was a real asshole. She ran away but crossed paths with that gangbanger, Hector. He took her in and used her up, got her hooked on drugs. After she overdosed, Tatiana wanted revenge, so she went to the warehouse to kill Hector. As it turns out, we beat her to it.”

  Novak smirked and blew on the tips of his fingers. He stopped playing with the Russian coin long enough to smugly rub his fingertips over the front of his silk shirt.

  “You’re so egotistical.”

  “Seriously?” Novak scoffed with a shake of his head. “What Bratva man isn’t?”

  “Whatever,” Glazov retorted dismissively. “Moving on. The diamond business…what’s the latest?”

  “Your sister is telling Yafon about the letter today. He will be livid, and we all know that a livid Yafon is the equivalent of a powder keg just waiting to go off. But he needs to be aware that someone has it out for his woman. Dmitriy has upgraded the security system with enhancements that could be used at Fort Knox. She has the proof she needs to know someone on the inside is coming for her.”

  “Strange how the hits keep coming from the inside. Ever since we decided to go legit our problems are with our own people. You know, that says something about the times we live in. Back in the old days, Bratva was all about loyalty. It was unheard of to turn on one of your own.”

  “You sound like an old man,” Novak taunted his cousin. “We’ve got years yet to wreak havoc. Stop talking like you’re out of the game. You’re making me nervous talking like that. We need you around here to run things. Plus, I’m not done having fun taking down enemies.”

  “A man starts thinking about his mortality as the years go by. If I don’t look ahead to the future with purpose, this next generation will never be ready to take over when the time comes. It’s the natural progression of things.” Glazov leaned back in his chair, crossing his ankle over his other knee. “Speaking of that, you and Katrina need to have some kids. A man needs sons, Novak. What’s the deal with that, anyway, you not having any kids? You don’t want to wait until you’re so old you can’t keep up with them. Then again, that would make it more fun to watch.”

  “We’ve been waiting until things got settled. It just ended up being something we put off. She’s a career woman. Not all women want kids. Lately she’s been talking about it so maybe there’s something to that whole biological clock thing. I kind of like the idea of a little Novak running around making trouble for everybody.”

  “Like I said, it will be enormously entertaining to watch, especially if he is anything like you.”

  “Okay, fucker, you’ve had your fun. Now back to the matter at hand. It’s just like Kodiak said when that asshole came after you and stalked Kathleen: employees might start thinking they’ll be left behind when you go straight, that you won’t be concerned with them like you were in the past.”

  “Bullshit! I have spent my life making sure they have no reason to doubt me. I’ve always been more than fair with my people. Joseph thought he could steal those diamonds and get away with it because he thought I wouldn’t be paying attention from so far away. He didn’t count on Vladimira getting involved.”

  “Vladimira is such a badass.”

  “Exactly. That was his second mistake. He made the mistake of underestimating my sister because she’s a woman—that would piss her off even more. It isn’t Yafon this guy will have to worry about, it’s my sister. She won’t tolerate being treated like she isn’t equal simply because she doesn’t have a dick.”

  “Oh, she’s got a dick now,” Novak drawled.

  Glazov closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose before glaring at Novak. “I have given my blessing to that union but I don’t need to imagine the particulars, so shut the fuck up about it. As I was saying, she has a thick skin, but that is the one thing that offends her. Because of the way she looks, so classy and put together, some men are stupid enough to believe she is a pushover. Anybody with balls enough to walk around with poison in a ring looking for her next mark is beyond dangerous. Can you believe she walked right through customs with that ring on?! The woman has balls of steel.”

&nb
sp; “You don’t have to convince me,” Novak said archly. “That woman is crazy, and the fact that you never see her coming makes her fucking lethal. It will be interesting to see how she deals with the man who had the audacity to threaten her. I can hear her now when she tells him she’s offended he didn’t have the balls to look her in the eye when he threatened to kill her. I could almost feel sorry for the dumb son of a bitch. Anyway, there’s one more item of business we need to go over: the kids are going to stake out Sinaloan territory, make sure nobody else is thinking about rising up to take Hector’s place.”

  Glazov gave a definitive nod, saying, “Good. I don’t want anyone but Escondido taking over now. The peace treaty depends on him running things. The last thing we need right now is a war.”

  Chapter Thirty Five

  The group talked quietly while Tatiana continued exploring Bazarnik’s room. She found him intriguing and looking around his room at his belongings was fascinating to her, so she didn’t feel left out of the conversation.

  “Hey, B., you okay with that?”

  Tatiana’s ears perked up at the quiet question directed to Bazarnik by the tall, blonde man who had been watching her closely as she moved about the room.

  “What? Oh, her?” Bazarnik replied with a grin. “Yeah, man, it’s fine. We’re just getting acquainted. Now, back to my plan…”

  “I don’t like it,” Oleg said, crossing his arms over his chest. “If you insist on doing this, Roksana and I are going with you. You’re talking about going straight into enemy territory. I don’t like it.”

  Bazarnik could tell that arguing with Oleg would be futile so he changed the subject. “Where are Dmitriy and Anastasia?”

  “She’s working in the surveillance room and Dmitriy’s at the jewelry store updating the security system. So, it will just be Roksana and me going with you.” He watched her pensively, saying, “It will give the girls a chance to get acquainted.”