Page 3 of Caught By the Bratva Beast

“Perhaps.”

He leaves a generous tip for the waiters and leads me out of the restaurant to the waiting car, his fingers laced with mine as he waves the chauffeur off and opens the back door. I slide across the leather seats, silently wondering how much the Jaguar cost him.

The drive back to my apartment is short and sweet, and it’s as I pass the doorman that my phone dings with a notification.

Noah Hearst has sent you $5,000.

Be free and black-tie ready on Friday night.

Chapter 1 - Maxim

“It was a mistake.” Boris lies between Yegor and Akim, his right leg at an unnatural angle to the rest of his body. “I swear to you, I’ll never make the same mistake again.”

Swirling the amber liquid in my glass, I lean back in the burnt-umber leather chair. “You fucking coward! After you betrayed me and our brotherhood, you believe that I should let you live?”

Boris whimpers as he’s shoved to his knees, his broken leg jutting to the side. “It was an error in judgment on my part.”

“No. It was not a fucking error.” I down the whiskey, the smooth amber liquid creating warmth as it slides down my throat. “You made a decision, and it is one that you’ll have to pay the price for.”

Yegor stands behind Boris, his hands clasped behind his back, waiting for his order.

I stand, rounding the edge of the massive maple desk. “You have been loyal to me for five years! I should give that some consideration. But you spilled important intel to the fucking Italians, you should have known better, fucking idiot.”

Hope floods his gaze as he struggles to kneel a little taller, his head dipping low in deference. “Please, boss. If you show me mercy today, I’ll be careful from now on. I didn’t know the guy was working for them.”

“Why would I owe you mercy when you are too stupid to show me some loyalty?” I glance over his shoulder at Yegor. “Zaberi yego i ubey yego [take him and kill him].”

Yegor nods at the order to take Boris away and kill him.

Another man enters the room with a snap of Yegor’s fingers. Akim and the man grab Boris by the arms, hauling him to his feet.

I raise my hand, signaling to pause, and Boris hangs suspended between them. His breath hitches as I draw closer to him, nostrils flaring and the color draining from his face. “Please, boss. Don’t do this.”

“You’ve just used up my last ounce of goodwill.” With a jerk of my chin, he’s dragged from the room.

Yegor follows the men to the door, shutting it behind them with a dull thud. He turns to face me, his hands deep in the pockets of his navy slacks. “Do you think that was the right decision?”

I snatch my tumbler from the desk and head to the bar in front of the wall of windows, pouring myself another glass of whiskey from the crystal decanter. “Are you questioning me?”

“Rarely.” Yegor smirks and takes a seat on one of the plush leather armchairs, the fabric the same as my desk chair. “But I’m afraid this will have to be one of those times.”

“Even if it means risking your life?” I swirl the whiskey in the glass, allowing the light to catch it and send colorful rays dancing around the room.

“May be worth it.”

“Unlikely.” I cross the room to the cream-colored couch beside the bar, glancing at the television across from me. Right now, there’s nothing but the news on, waiting for any sign of the Mancinis cropping up over the city. “Go ahead.”

Yegor crosses one leg over the other, his leather boat shoe dangling. “Boris has worked for you for five years. Are you sure it’s wise to kill him when he’s been a faithful soldier in every other aspect?”

“You would rather I keep a traitor around?” I ask, my tone low and dangerous, waiting for Yegor to say something wrong. “You have worked for me for nearly fifteen years, and I would have you killed for shaking hands with those fucking Italians.”

“What he has done is despicable, but there must be another way to make an example of him.”

“He betrayed the Bratva.” I drink the alcohol in two gulps, putting the glass onto the matte black side table. “If you had done the same, I would have your head. If I’m unwilling to make an exception for you, then why should I be willing to make one for that blithering idiot? He deserves the consequences of his actions.”

“He has been beneficial to the Bratva.”

“Not enough to ignore his colluding with the Italians. Or ignoring the fact that he turned his back on his family. And for what? A few extra bucks?”

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