Page 4 of The Bratva Queens' Kings

Perez. Lana’s main rival, the thorn in our side. His syndicate, a mirror image of darkness to ours, holds the other half of Los Angeles in a tight grip. Ever since Lana's old man was taken out, Perez has been like a shadow at our backs, waiting, watching. He thought he'd take over, thought the kingdom would fall into his lap. But Lana, she's made of tougher stuff. Perez has been biding his time, nursing his grudge.

Lana sits back, her lips curling into a wry smile. "What's your plan then?" she asks, eyes glinting with that challenge I crave.

A wicked grin spreads across my face. "Well, sweetheart," I purr, savouring the way she visibly shivers at the predator lurking in my tone. "I say we give him an overdose of 'justice'."

Luca chokes out a laugh despite himself. It's a fucked up idea but then again, we're fucked up people.

"But that's for later," I decide, standing up abruptly, the lingering adrenaline making me restless. Lana raises an eyebrow provocatively and instantly my mind is filled with images of her pinned underneath me - tangled hair spread out like a halo, body bare and begging for punishment.

Fuck.

"You okay?" Lana's voice cuts through my dark thoughts, her cool hand resting on my arm snapping me back to reality.

Tearing my eyes away from her teasing gaze, I manage a curt nod. The moment Lana's touch falls away, it's like the warmth of the sun being snatched away by clouds. Not that I'd ever admit it out loud. "Got a debt collection that needs a personal touch," I mutter, already plotting my next moves.

Her eyes narrow, slicing through the bullshit. "Just don't do anything too rash. We can't afford more heat right now."

I almost laugh. Rash is my middle name. "Since when do you worry about heat? Thought you liked playing with fire."

The corner of her mouth twitches, almost a smile. "Only when I'm the one controlling the flames."

Our banter is cut short as Grigori looms into view, his presence like a cold shadow. "We moving out?" His voice is like gravel, rough and unyielding.

"Give us a minute," Lana says, her gaze lingering on me a moment longer before she turns to Grigori, slipping back into business mode. I watch her go, every step she takes a twist in my gut. This thing between us, it's like dancing on a wire. Thrilling, yes, but one wrong step and it's a long fall down.

We had a one-night stand for fun, or maybe it was because she was sad, or maybe because, for a fleeting moment, she felt like she could trust me completely. I'm her protector, after all.

If things were different, if we weren't entangled in the deadly embrace of the mob, would we have even been a thing? It's a question that haunts me, a what-if in a sea of certainties. Lana, with her strength, her fire, and her unyielding determination, shines like a beacon in the darkness of our world. But she's also a product of that darkness, shaped by loss and betrayal, hardened by the cruelties she's had to endure.

She's never had a relationship in her entire twenty-six years. Not surprising, really. Maybe she's afraid of men turning out to be like her father. The bastard who not only betrayed her trust but shattered her world by murdering her mother. Lana loved her mother fiercely, and how her father treated them both left deep, festering wounds. At twenty-one, she staged a coup, a bold move that spoke volumes of her courage and her desperation for change. She took over the syndicate, stepping into a role that demanded ruthlessness and a cold heart, qualities she wears like armor.

Yet, for all her moral flexibility when it comes to the business, Lana believes in the sanctity of family, in treating those you consider family with loyalty and respect. It's a belief that's kept us bound together, a motley crew of broken souls seeking redemption in each other's company. She might not have moral qualms about the paths we've chosen, the lives we lead, but at her core, Lana is driven by a desire to protect what she considers hers.

And there lies the rub. Because as much as I want her, as much as I yearn to explore the 'what could be' between us, I know that going down that path could destroy the fragile balance we've maintained. Not just between us, but within the very foundations of our syndicate. Love, or whatever semblance of it we can afford, is a luxury that comes with too high a price.

So, I push these thoughts aside, lock them away in the same place I keep my doubts and fears. There's no room for weakness in our world, no space for what-ifs and might-have-beens. We are who we are, and while the night we spent together will always linger in the back of my mind, a sweet poison that tempts and torments in equal measure, I know that some lines are better left uncrossed.

For now, I'll keep playing my role, the loyal enforcer, the protector.

Turning to leave, I feel Luca's eyes on me, the weight of his gaze heavy with unspoken warnings. He's been like a brother, sure, but in our world, blood ties are just as likely to strangle you as keep you warm. And he knows, just as well as I do, that what Lana and I have been doing could unravel threads we can't afford to lose.

As I head out, the echo of my steps a steady beat in the silence, I can't shake the feeling that we're all teetering on the edge of something. Maybe it's change, maybe it's disaster. Only time will tell.

But for now, there's work to be done. Debts don't collect themselves, and fear is a currency just as valuable as cash in our line of work.

Chapter 3

Lana

Staggering into my suite, the first thing I do is kick off those damn heels that have been torturing me all night. Freedom for my feet at last. Julia, my PA, practically skitters over to me, her hands full of papers and her eyes wide with the sort of news that's either going to make my day or ruin it.

"Welcome back, Lana," she chirps, that jittery, nervous energy of hers making her seem like she's about to jump out of her skin. "I've handled the schedule changes you requested, confirmed your meeting with the mayor next Thursday, and oh, the new security protocols are in place. Also, an unknown number called—"

I hold up a hand, cutting her off. "Please tell me you didn't answer."

She blinks, then shakes her head so fast I'm worried she'll get whiplash. "No, no, of course not. I just saw the missed call."

"Good." Stripping off my jacket, I toss it onto a chair, not caring where it lands. My head's buzzing with too many thoughts, and Julia's rundown is only adding to the cacophony.

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