Page 4 of The Bratva King's Claimed Bride

“I have her,” my little brother says. “It was easy, just as you thought it would be. Even with the Milovs around.”

“Don’t hurt her. Don’t be too violent; it’ll just cause attention. We don’t want to draw attention to us just yet. They’re the most powerful Bratva in the US. We need to play our cards right.” I hang up.

I remember growing up with Kervyn and his brothers in Russia. My mind flashes back to us as teenage boys, on opposite sides because our families were already enemies.

When I woke up and got ready to go to school, it was a cold winter day. My mother had prepared kasha for us—a hot Russian porridge—and we sat at the table and ate together in silence as my father read the paper.

My mother served him some meat and eggs, and I remember longing for them. They looked delicious. My mother's cooking was always delicious.

My younger siblings weren’t in school yet. They would stay with the nanny and my mother at the house. My mother gave me my school bag and kissed me goodbye, making me promise to be a good boy.

She always did that. She asked me to be a good boy when she knew very well the path that was laid out before me was anything but good.

It had snowed lightly, and I shivered despite wearing my winter clothes. I was eight years old at the time, and walking to school was a precarious thing that my father insisted I do. He wanted me to toughen up even though I had to cross Milov territory to get to the building.

This particular day was not my day.

As I crossed the park, two older boys stepped in front of me, and I paused.

Kervyn and Danil Milov stood before me, only somewhat older than me, but I could see Kervyn had in his hand a switchblade. They had warned me before about cutting through the park to get to school, but if I didn’t, I had to go a longer route and would be late. If my mother walked with me, they would just hurl insults at me. My mother would remain silent as per my father's instructions.

That day, though, I stood alone, shivering in the cold wind.

I gripped my bag tightly and stepped back. “I’m not looking for trouble.”

“Too bad you found a lot of it,” Kervyn said, flicking his switchblade. “Do you like the gift I got from my father?”

“I will just go around,” I mumbled, taking another step back.

Danil stepped forward. “I don’t think so.”

I turned and started running, hearing their footsteps landing hard behind me. I was on the track team, though, and for the moment, I was out-pacing them. I ran out of the park and up the road, people shouting as I passed them.

I made the mistake of glancing back and saw they were still chasing me. I panicked. I climbed under a fence and ran into the local railway yard, dodging between the train carts that were standing still like silent soldiers long defeated with no hope to offer.

“Get back here,” Danil shouted; he was nearby. If I could make it to the other chain link fence on the other side, I could get out and maybe sprint all the way to school. They would make me pay for this, though.

I saw the fence ahead, and I smiled. I was going to make it.

That was when I was suddenly tackled to the ground. The wind was knocked right out of me.

“Get off me,” I demanded, trying to wiggle away. Danil got me to turn over under him and sat on me, holding me down.

“Why did you run? Are you a coward?” he breathed.

Kervyn came strolling up. “Good job, Danil.”

“Leave me alone. I didn’t do anything.” I tried to pull away, but Danil was much stronger than I was.

Kervyn bent down near my head and looked at me. “You breathed, Sidorov. Your existence is an insult to my family.”

I tried my best to fight back, but without warning, Danil punched me in the face, and I was dazed. “Sit still.” The demand was simple enough.

“How are we going to remind you who’s in charge?” Kervyn asked as he knelt over me.

“Please,” I groaned. “Just leave me alone.”

“Maybe we should just kill him,” Danil threatened. “No one would miss him.”

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