Page 14 of Bratva Butcher

“Odnazhdy ya pererezhu tebe gorlo i iskupayus’ v tvoyey krov.” One of these days, I’m going to slit your throat and bathe in your blood,I spat out and before I lost what little control I had left, I turned, choosing to face the wall instead of continuing that ridiculous conversation any longer.

I prided myself on my ability to stay in control. Mastering my emotions was a necessity after the death of my wife. I needed to be strong for our children. Give them the best chance I could to succeed and survive in the harsh, cruel, fucked up world that didn’t give a shit about them.

That meant always being in control. Never losing my shit over small, miniscule things. People who let their emotions rule them and dictate their actions made mistakes. Mistakes that cost lives.

I’d vowed to never let that happen again.

But that woman… She tested my fucking patience more than anyone I’d ever met in my life.

She knew damn well that I wasn’t making a move on her. She was just trying to deter me. Distract me. Confuse me.

What annoyed me the most was that it fucking worked.

Under normal circumstances, a tactic like that would have never worked on me. But the idea of seeing her in a romantic way… Even her just uttering those words was like a punch to the gut.

Never.

In the ten years since my Yekaterina’s murder, I’d never touched another woman. Never evenlookedat another person like that.

The opportunity had presented itself, sure. Several times, in fact. The title I held as leader of the Bratva in America had a certain appeal to it, to those both in the USA and in Russia. The power of my position drew others in. Women and men threw themselves at me all the time.

Well…at first.

They hoped to take my late wife’s place. By the time I’d killed the fourth person to make advances towards me, word caught on and the advances drastically declined. The lingering looks from those hoping to get a seat on the throne never faded, though. Hoping that one day, I’d be ready to marry again.

Never.

Yekaterina was—and always would be—the only one for me.

Autumn’s comments about me showing interest in her were enough to throw me completely off balance.

The tight hold I had over my emotions all but vanished.

Frustration mounted inside me. I clenched my fists to refrain from lashing out. The fact that I’d allowed myself to be manipulated in such a way was making me angrier and angrier with each passing second.

For the next few hours, I kept my back to her, not moving even though the position inevitably grew uncomfortable. I knew that if I looked at her, my control would slip yet again, and I would attempt to take her life.

Not that killing her bothered me in the slightest.

It didn’t.

It was more that I would likely injure myself trying to strangle her to death. And at a time like that, where my future lay in the hands of someone other than myself, it was imperative to be in the best condition possible. That meant not hurting myself just to kill someone who annoyed me. No matter how much killing her would please me.

Surprisingly, Autumn didn’t say a word. Didn’t sing any stupid, incessant songs or quote any ridiculous lines from a television show. She sat in complete silence until the moment my brother returned with the person I least expected.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I hissed under my breath, glaring daggers at the man walking towards me.

Talon Scardo.

Out of all the fucking people Dominik could have called, he called Talon fucking Scardo. The one man on Earth who probably hated me more than he did.

Our history was a long, dark one, going all the way back to when I was just a teenager attending boarding school. It was filled with anger, backstabbing, jealousy and attempted murder.

You know, just the usual, everyday stuff.

“Well, well, well. You were actually telling the truth, Doiminik.”Ugh, his voice is just as irritating as I remember. “The great Dimitri Volkov, chained up like a dog. I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

Talon stepped completely into the light, shadowed by four hulking bodyguards who looked like they could have been linebackers in another life.

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