Page 11 of Stolen By the Bratva

My brothers would be stopping over later to speak with me, but I had a few hours to kill before they’d show up. Even though we were supposed to all be on the same team, working for the same family, my brothers and I had always stuck with each other. Without any real leadership from our uncle, and even less from Andrey, it felt like we were all operating loosely within chaos.

Like those Rossinis who thought they could get away with trying to bully a couple of shop owners we protected on our turf. Mr. and Mrs. Markov were one couple among many of the mom-and-pop shops in the Valkov territory, a cover business for us to launder money faster. With that protection in place, it never should have escalated to those Italian thugs coming by and trying to steal and harass from their store. If any of us had been delegated to patrolling and checking in more often, the elderly couple could have put an end to that bullshit months ago.

I was glad Mrs. Markov had the smarts to call Nikolai earlier. Even though I disliked the unfinished way I’d been pulled from that feisty woman at the S.T.L. Shipping office, I was proud to do my duty for the families the bratva represented. Nikolas kept the husband and wife preoccupied in the back while I taught the Rossinis a lesson. One might never father children again with the bat I’d used on his crotch, and I bet his partner was pissing his pants with the pain of my dislocating both arms.

My goal had been to avoid any blood spilled. It wouldn’t do to dirty up the Markovs’ shop and make them clean it up. Still, I bore the signs of a gritty fight. My knuckles were scraped and raw from pummeling those two Italians with my fists, and I nursed them now, dipping them into a bucket of ice water.

Had that call not come in, though, I wondered how far I would have tried to push my luck with that woman. So short, but packing a full package of the sexiest curves, gorgeous tits, and fine ass. She was the kind of woman to pound without mercy, able to take a good, hard fuck. I envisioned it clearly in my mind. How her plump red lips would wrap around my cock, her slender throat would strain as she swallowed me down. Her long, glossy locks of the deepest brown would coil nicely in my hand as I drove into her cunt.

And that sass. That attitude. If she could stand up to me and talk back like that in the office, she promised to be even hotter and daring between the sheets.

Or not.

She looked so damn young, but she had to be of legal age to even be in that office on her own. I couldn’t believe how Sergei or any of his men would let a beautiful, sexy woman like her work unattended. She had seemed knowledgeable, quick to inform us that we shouldn’t have come there. Behind the flicker of attraction I noticed in her crystal-blue eyes, I spotted the alarm. Confusion, even, but she masked her emotions well. It only made me that much more suspicious. She was guarding something to be that confrontational from the get-go. Maybe she didn’t know all the details, but she had me more convinced that something fishy was going on.

The man we were supposed to see, Lev, ended up changing his mind about a meeting. Pavel texted me that information after the fact, and even that bothered me. This Lev couldn’t be a man of his word and see through a simple check-in and chat with us? That didn’t bode well.

As I wiped my knuckles off, I knew deep down that I couldn’t let this happen. This big shipment at the Colver docks. Any alliance with the Kastavas. The wedding. It all seemed off. Over the years, I’d complained about how our power and influence had faded, but this seemed like the big thing that would be our downfall.

“You home?”

I looked toward the door of my apartment at Andrey’s knock and yell. This was the only one of my personal properties that my cousin knew about. Even that was telling, that I hid all of my addresses from Andrey and Pavel. The distrust ran deep in my bones.

Without answering in a verbal reply, I headed to the door and opened it a bit. “What do you want?”

“What’s this bullshit I hear about you telling Anton that you and Ivan killed that spy at the warehouse?” He stormed in, all bluster and cocky arrogance.

Oh. The Italian I took care of, the death that he took credit for. “I didn’t say a fucking thing.” It wasn’t my fault that another bratva brother assumed that Andrey hadn’t actually done anything about that spy. They all knew how worthless he was.

“If my father asks, I handled it. You understand?”

I understood that he wanted to look good. But that didn’t matter anymore. “Whatever. I don’t give a fuck. Take credit for it.”

He squinted at me, skeptical that I'd agreed so quickly.

“As long as you forget about that wedding tomorrow.” I shook my head. “They’re plotting against us. I can tell. You’ve got to convince your father that aligning with the Kastavas will be a mistake.”

He scoffed. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. They’ve been talking about it for a month.”

Which was not a long enough time for true negotiations. Not that he’d know. “They’re not to be trusted.”

He stalked up close, trying to get in my face and look down at me. It might have been easier to pull off if I weren’t slightly taller, stronger, and more ripped. “We’ll decide who can be trusted.” He grimaced, wrinkling his face. As he tipped his head to the side, maybe trying to look macho and bold, his bald head gleamed from the lights overhead. “That’s not your call. We make the decisions. Not you.”

“You’ll regret it.” I didn’t flinch, didn’t budge.

“Are you threatening me?”

“The entire family is threatened with Pavel’s idea to team up with the enemy.”

“Fuck you.” He shoved at me, but his sneering attitude had already pushed me too far. I grabbed his hand when he pushed, then followed up with punching his face.

“The wedding’s tomorrow, you dumbass.” He lunged forward, entering in a quick, hard fight. My fists didn’t need more damage, but I didn’t hesitate to land him on his ass near the door.

“Call off the wedding,” I growled as he stood. “Stop this alliance.”

He shook his head, then spat a mouthful of blood onto my carpet. “Fuck off.” Then he wrenched the door open and left, slamming my door shut.

I stood there, fuming and staring at the splatter of a mess he’d left on my floor. Talking reason with him wouldn’t have ever gone over well. He didn’t listen to anyone but his father. He couldn’t comprehend anything complex even when shown evidence. Spoiled by being sheltered and expected to sit back while others did the dirty work, Andrey was unapproachable for anything against what Pavel told him.

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