Jaded Jewels (Born Bratva Book 7)

by Suzanne Steele

  He would never let her go, he knew that now. Even if it meant caging her down in the basement without any clothes just so he could look his fill and use her body to slake the lust that consumed him whenever he thought of her. Tatiana was different, not like any of the faceless, nameless one night stands of his past. He had never wanted anything to do with after he was finished with them. But she was different. He was different.

  “Never fucking letting you go.”

  “Oh, God,” she gasped. “Your cock, I fucking love it, it’s so good.”

  “I’ll always make it good for you,” he swore as he moved inside her. “So good, you’ll cream just thinking about me. So good, you’ll never want to leave me.”

  “I don’t want to ever leave you, but I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

  “You’re no burden, baby. My only burden is the thought of being without you.”

  She was tormented, ripped apart by her emotions because she’d never felt like she was connected to a man who shared the darkness in her soul. They were one in the same, sharing the same skeletons and demons they’d fought to keep buried in their closets of ambiguity and now those secrets would be the same things that kept them united in love. The only love two damaged souls could ever know in their distress of fractured pasts. Together they were one—apart they were a broken abyss of agonized pain.

  When she climaxed, she knew she had met her match. Bazarnik satisfied needs she never even knew she had. His body shuddered as he came long and hard. He rested his forehead on hers, their sweat mingling as he waited for his heart to slow down.

  He walked her over to the bed. That hadn’t been just a hard fuck against the wall; they had made love in their own raw, unapologetic way. Now they needed to talk.

  He pulled her close against his side and chose his words carefully. “I love you…but you know I’m fucked up, right?”

  “I love you, too,” she said and felt his arms tighten around her. “And because you are exactly the way you are, I don’t think I could ever feel this way about anyone else. We’re all fucked up, Baz.”

  “Hmm. Baz. I like it,” he said with a grin. “I mean, I’m a full-blown pyromaniac. I’ve got a fire fetish that won’t quit. I’ve tried everything, but the dark forces build up and rage inside me if I don’t release it.”

  “But being here is helping you contain it, right?”

  “Yeah, I think it’s probably why Glazov brought me here. It’s definitely a skill I can use on the job, so to speak,” he said with a grin. “So, you don’t think I’m fucked up?”

  “Of course, you are,” she laughed lightly. “Like I said, we all are. If you’re asking me if I’m going to leave you because of it, I can honestly say no, I’m not. I’ve been doing fucked-up all my life, why stop now?’

  She was just what he needed: a woman who would stand by his side with no judgment. Yeah. They could do ‘fucked-up’ together and they were going to be fine. It was just what they both needed.

  “He’s giving you tricked out SUVs? Very nice. What about me, do I get one? Or is this more of a ‘what’s yours is mine’ situation?”

  Glazov rolled onto his side and turned his wife’s face toward him. Too much of his time was spent working. He relished these private moments with her. Through the years they’d learned how to arrange their schedules so their marriage remained a priority. Family was everything; it had always been that way for them.

  “You can have mine, Ptichka, not that you need a bulletproof, armored vehicle meant to carry diplomats. But you know how important your safety is to me. If you like, we can get one like the one Roksana chose, equipped to discreetly transport bodies.”

  He raised his brows as he studied her serene expression. Not much shocked her anymore. Plus, she was familiar with the concept because Natasha already had one. “What color do you want?”

  “I could say fire engine red but, knowing you, you’d say it would draw unnecessary attention. I guess I’ll just go with the usual black—the color of my man’s heart.”

  He rolled on top of her, bracing himself on his forearms as he decided what to do to her. She was every bit as beautiful now as the day he married her. He hadn’t been with another woman since his first glimpse of her. He had known, even then, that all other women would pale in comparison. His dick was ruled by one woman and he knew it. He grinned as he thought to himself that he and his dick had never been happier.

  “What are you grinning at?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Nothing. Just thinking.” He leaned down and ran his tongue around her nipple before sucking it into his mouth. Her body arched up to meet him. She opened her legs in invitation and he took it—needed it. Their bodies came together, pushing and pulling against each other in a familiar rhythm that never got old.

  “I love you, woman. You’re all I know, all I see, all I want.”

  Her fingers raked over the sculpted muscles of his back, pulling him ever closer. She could feel the tension in her body building to a crescendo that promised to be, as always, beyond intoxicating. Sensing she was already close, Glazov adjusted his hips to rub the base of his shaft against her clit. They had always been a perfect fit that way. A couple of thrusts was all it took to send her crashing into a quivering release. He was right there with her as the flames tingled at the base of his spine seconds before he filled her with everything he had.

  With her tucked in close against his side, his fingertips trailing up and down her arm, he spoke, his voice almost reverent. “Two grandbabies at once, Ptichka. Only our firstborn could pull that off.”

  “Oh, so Natasha had nothing to do with it?” Kathleen scoffed playfully.

  “She had everything to do with it. She is good for our Nikita.”

  “Well, they’re going to need our help more than they realize. Two babies! We need to get ready. People put entirely too much stock in due dates. I have a feeling these Bratva babies already have minds of their own.”

  Chapter Forty Two

  One Month Later

  Roksana looked up from where she was helping set up the ballroom, beaming as she took off across the room to greet her brother’s wife. She had spent the morning helping to get the ballroom ready for the gala being held the following night. After a brief grand opening reception at the flagship store downtown, they would gather in this room to celebrate the launch of the diamond business. Glazov was already mulling over plans for expanding the business, but the first store would always be special.

  With a wide smile, she opened her arms and hugged Natasha. “Look at you, I can’t even get my arms around you!”

  “Hello, sweetheart, how are you feeling?” Kathleen cooed as she kissed Natasha’s cheek and took a step back, running concerned hands up and down Natasha’s arms.

  “Seriously, do you think you’ll be able to hold off having those babies until after the ribbon cutting ceremony?” Roksana asked, biting her lip.

  “I hope so,” Natasha replied. “Two weeks to go, officially, but I don’t think it’ll take that long.” She lowered her voice. “Nikita won’t leave me alone. I swear, the man stays hard--”

  “Just stop,” Roksana said, grimacing as she held up her hand.

  “Well, it’s true! I mean, he’s really liking the whole pregnant thing. He swears he can fuck me into labor.”

  Kathleen’s eyes widened and she suddenly became very interested in the place settings at the head table, waving distractedly over her shoulder as she scurried away. Natasha observed her abrupt departure with a bemused frown.

  “Hmm. So anyway, we’ll see. We’re all meeting at the store with Katrina for her to do a story for the paper about the ribbon cutting ceremony and then we’ll come back here for the party. I’ll be fine,” she said, grimacing a little as she rubbed her lower back, “but these babies have been really busy today.”

  “Tell them Auntie Roksana said to wait.”

  “You tell them,” Natasha laughed as she patted her stomach.

  Roksana leaned down a
nd put a hand on Natasha’s stomach, whispering, “Okay, now. You two must wait until after the ceremony tomorrow night to make your grand entrance.” Roksana felt a hard kick against her hand, as if one of the babies was weighing in on the matter. “Ha! Little sucker just kicked me!”

  “He’s letting you know he heard you loud and clear.”

  “Yeah, that or telling me he’s going to do things his own way, in true Glazov fashion. Sit down, little mama. Talk to me while I work.”

  Natasha sunk down into a chair, welcoming the chance to be off her feet. “It looks great in here. The firebird china is spectacular. I just love it.”

  “Well, you know how Father feels about that Russian fable.”

  “It’s so romantic, the sweet name he has for your mother. His ‘Ptichka’. His little bird…”

  “That’s because she tried really hard to fly away in the beginning,” Roksana said, her voice tinged with sadness. “We’re all so lucky she changed her mind. I worry when I think about the man my father would have been without her. He told me once that he didn’t exist before she came to him – and he absolutely believes that she came to him.”

  “The Bratva gods, working their magic,” Natasha said with a smile as she absently rubbed her belly.

  “Our macho, lethal men really are romantics at heart. But, shhhh, don’t let them know. I wonder, do you think Nikita will change when he becomes a father?”

  Natasha replied with a faraway look in her eyes, “I suppose all men do. But I can promise you, he already considers himself a father. He has ever since these babies were conceived, and he will tell you that he felt it the instant it happened. But even so, out of all the Glazov children, I think Nikita is the most level-headed – no offense, of course.”

  “Being level-headed is overrated.”

  “Yes, well, I think having children is going to make Nikita even more stable than he already is, but he’s bound to become even more territorial. I think it’s a good thing the family is going straight now—the timing is perfect, for all of us.”

  Epilogue

  Glazov, Kathleen, and Vladimira stood together, smiling for the cameras. Well, Kathleen and Vladimira smiled; at his wife’s insistence, Glazov relaxed his taciturn expression enough to offer a slight upturn of one corner of his lips.

  Moments later, he was smiling far more naturally at his wife, who frowned suspiciously and asked, “What are you smiling about now?”

  “Just thinking about what you bartered in exchange for that smile.” If possible, his sly smile became even broader. “It’s been a while.”

  “Um…”

  “You enjoy your evening, Mrs. Glazov,” he said slowly. “Because when we’re done here, I’ll sure as hell be enjoying mine.”

  When Glazov nodded in her direction, Vladimira strode to the store’s elegantly appointed double doors and opened them with a flourish, her skirt swirling around her feet as she turned and raised her arms in dramatic welcome to the assembled crowd of well-heeled and, hopefully, well-funded guests.

  When all the photos had been taken and the speeches given, Glazov suffered through the obligatory mingling and small talk with his wife tucked in close to his side. It was a successful event as beaming women strolled through the store on their husbands’ arms, their own arms and necks glittering with their new Glazov diamonds.

  Anyone who was anyone attended the ribbon cutting ceremony and in-store reception that night, before moving on to the grand event: a gala being held in the ballroom at Glazov’s palatial estate. This was the family’s opportunity to get as close to legit as possible, to achieve the stability the Pakhan was seeking for the future. So they were going all out.

  Even Anfisa attended, hovering in a quiet corner as she discreetly tugged at the low neckline of the gown Vladimira had insisted on buying for her. Despite Vladimira’s repeated assurances that, no, no, the dress didn’t show too much cleavage, Anfisa wasn’t convinced it was the kind of dress that would attract a ‘nice boy’. She also wasn’t accustomed to wearing her hair down, but Madam had insisted and had even styled it into loose waves herself.

  From across the room, Vladimira was pleased with her creation. A quick glance around the room was all she needed to confirm that the beautiful young woman was attracting some promising masculine attention without even trying.

  “What are you up to now?” Yafon asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked from his love to her maid and back again.

  “Hmm?” she asked, brows rising innocently.

  “Let her find her own way, printsessa.”

  “Well, of course, darling,” she said as she deftly lifted a champagne flute and a small plate of canapes from a passing server. “Oh, Isaak,” she said, turning to the young man standing just behind her shoulder. “Would you be a dear and take our Anfisa this champagne and a bite to eat?”

  “Of course.”

  As the young man navigated the bustling crowd, Yafon shook his head. “You’re incorrigible.”

  Isaak reached his target and, with a small bow, offered the refreshments to a blushing Anfisa. As she took the flute and plate from him, their fingers brushed and his neck turned an interesting shade of red.

  “Bingo,” she purred with a smug smile. “What?” she asked indignantly when she looked up to find Yafon glaring down at her. She attempted an innocent expression once again, only to give up and huff, “Well, she needed something to do with her hands. That’s a waste of spectacular cleavage, the way she kept yanking at that neckline. And look over there, see? Now the dress can do its job.”

  “Woman…”

  “Trust me, darling, a dress can only accomplish so much. I have a feeling that when the time comes, they’ll know what to do.”

  Novak watched as his wife Katrina participated in a Facebook Live interview being conducted by a local television station. He was proud that she was as comfortable in front of a camera as she was anywhere else. It would be Novak taking the pictures tonight for the local newspaper she worked for, something he did for her from time to time to be supportive of her work as a journalist. The two of them had even written a novel together -- after she stole part of it from him, of course.

  Looking back now, Novak was grateful for her error in judgment, because it led him to her and he wouldn’t trade anything for his beautiful little thief. Oh, sure, he had been plenty pissed off at the time. The memories brought a slow smile to his lips, which earned him a curious look from his wife.

  He arched a sardonic brow and grinned as her cheeks heated. Yes, she would be getting fucked hard as soon as he could get her alone. Perhaps he’d punish her just one more time for stealing from him…

  Even the elusive Escondido made an appearance as a show of respect and goodwill. Among the city’s elite who attended were Governor Anthony Johnson. Although he was cautious about attending events hosted by the city’s mafia contingent, this event was for the Glazov family’s diamond business so he saw no harm. After all, he was all about stimulating the economy.

  As the night wore on, people eventually began gathering their wraps and exchanging goodbyes in preparation for the journey home. Drivers were provided for those who had overindulged in the festivities. Glazov made closing remarks and thanked everyone again for coming. Then he gathered his family together and they headed home for a more intimate after-party.

  The music was festive and the food and liquor flowed freely. Laughter rang through the air late into the night. There were a few not entirely unexpected jokes about the lack of gunfire today, unlike the fateful wedding day of Glazov’s children.

  The babies did as their auntie Roksana had asked them to, waiting patiently to make their debut until the evening had drawn to a close. Natasha had her heart set on getting home, having just been promised a foot rub by her husband. She had just taken Nikita’s hand so he could help her up from her chair, when she doubled over, crying out in pain.

  “Tasha, baby, what--”

  “I think it’s time…”

  When
Natasha’s water broke, all hell broke loose. Her husband’s protective instincts kicked into overdrive. As the Pakhan placed a hushed but stern phone call to the obstetrician to let him know they were on their way, Nikita barked orders to his security detail as he carried his wife to the waiting SUV.

  During the long, hard labor that followed, Nikita dutifully followed his father’s advice, gritting his teeth and suffering in silence when his hand went numb under Natasha’s white-knuckled grip. His mother had assured him repeatedly that any pain he might go through would be nothing compared to the agony his wife would endure to bring their children into the world. But no one could have prepared him for how he would feel when they were finally born.

  Nikita wept as his firstborn son was placed in his arms. His chest swelled with devotion and pride as he held his little boy. Already a tiny force to be reckoned with, the future Pakhan wailed his displeasure, scowling as he clutched his father’s finger in a fierce grip. But they weren’t done yet. Nikita gave Natasha his other hand for the final, agonizing push that brought their daughter into the world.

  Natasha was understandably eager to meet the babies, and Nikita placed the boy in her arms. While she cooed and counted her son’s tiny fingers, Nikita turned his attention to the pink, swaddled bundle being placed in his arms by the smiling nurse.

  When he found himself caught in the crosshairs of sweetly feminine, deep blue eyes, his old life fell away and his new world jolted into sharp focus. In that moment, he came into his own as a man, as a husband, and as a father. Soft, midnight blue eyes peered inquisitively this way and that until settling decisively on her father’s face.

  “Ahh, so it’s going to be like that, is it…” he murmured softly. “Just look at you, my beautiful girl. Devochka moya…” Nikita Glazov was smitten.