Page 5 of Used By the Bratva

My heart leaps when I pull my cell phone out of my back pocket and hand it to him. I like it when a man takes charge, and it’s been a while since I’ve had a date or a relationship. Painting and studying were more important to me, and after a brief fling with an art student in my second year at uni who was only interested in getting into my pants, I focused more on achieving my goals.

It might be time for me to explore the dating world again.

Tyler’s thumbs fly over the screen before he hands my phone back to me. “I’ll text you later, and I’ll see you Friday night, gorgeous.”

He leans in, lips pressing to my cheek before he takes off down the stairs, getting in the black convertible. A few minutes later, my cell phone pings with a text message.

Tyler: Friday at seven. I will send you the name of the restaurant. Enjoy the surprise, gorgeous.

I can’t help but smile as I put my phone back in my pocket before descending the last few steps and walking down the street.

I’m going on my first date in New York.

Chapter 3 - Leon

The chandelier above the table glows warmly, and the dark-paneled walls give the restaurant a luxury touch. A wall of windows offers a view of the city, the lights shining in the dusk sky.

Ivan looks around the long table with his arms folded. A cigar box stands in front of him on the polished mahogany table. As our Pakhan [boss], he sits at the head of the table, surrounded by my cousins and other influential men of the Orlov Bratva, who all look up to him to begin our meeting.

I don't know why he wanted to gather in this private room of the restaurant, but sitting with my family, the most important men in my life, over a meal is always welcome.

These days, we are remarkably busy. Our enemies are growing, but so is the empire my family has built over generations. I don’t have much time these days, but I do what is necessary. That kind of life ensures my family has a long and powerful posterity.

The most important thing now is to get rid of the damned Mancini clan.

I slide back and forth in my seat as Ivan passes the box of cigars around. Most men take one, cut off the tip, and light it. The cigar smoke is already choking the air as I put my own to my lips, inhale the heady smoke deeply, and hold it for a moment before exhaling a cloud again.

Maxim turns in his seat. “I heard your commander killed some of Mancini's men the other day.”

I nod, the cigar pinched between my thumb and forefinger as I pull it from my mouth. “Boris took out several of the Don’s men, but one of them was a relative to the Don.”

Maxim’s hazel eyes show no flicker of emotion and stare straight through me. It is an unsettling look. Over the years, I’ve gotten used to my cousin’s expression, but others still cringe when he looks at them with that stare.

Sergey clears his throat, and the legs of his chair creak against the floor as he stands up. “The fucking Italians are becoming more of a nuisance to us every day.”

The men around the table nod, mumbling their agreement. Sergey looks at Ivan and abandons the plates of food in front of them.

Ivan gives the nod, signaling for Sergey to continue.

Sergey takes time to look at each man holding their attention. “They have attacked us again in our territory. They thought they could gain access to us unannounced and sabotage our supplies.”

The men murmur to themselves and whisper about our recent issues with the Italians. They have always been a problem but have become even bolder in the last few months. They steal our drugs and weapons. Prostitutes have been found dead after allegedly spending a night with one of their men.

Now they’re coming after the Orlov men, trying to take us out one by one.

“Killing them is no longer enough.” Ivan’s voice cuts through the low rumble as he pulls his cigar from his lips and places it in the ashtray beside him. “It's the easy way out, and fucking cowards like them deserve to suffer for their crimes.”

“What is the plan?” Denis, Sergey’s commander, asks, his voice cutting through the threats people are muttering.

Sergey looks at me. Over the last two weeks, I’ve been talking to him, Ivan, and Maxim about the best plan of attack. It took several arguments to work out the final details, but I finally got them to see the situation as I did.

I grin and take another long puff on the cigar. “We will weaken them. We'll steal their customers and their allies. We'll take them out at their most vulnerable points and bring down everything they’ve built up. Then, when they lie in the rubble of what once was, we kill them all.”

“That bastard Carlo Mancini won’t know what hit him.” Denis grins as he leans back smugly in his seat.

Sergey smirks. “The Don is going to lose his empire.”

“Carlo hasn't been in New York for a long time, and in that time, he's forgotten who the Bratva are and what we’re capable of.” Ivan reaches for his whiskey and takes a sip. “We will create the biggest shithouse and burn this bastard to the ground.”

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