Page 2 of Virgin Bratva Prisoner

“Please, will you make me one of those extra sweet, extra frothy coffees you are so good at,” I sigh, rubbing my temples as I stand next to my desk.

“Oh, of course I can. I’ll be quick as lightening.” She replies with relief in her voice. She’s a sweet girl. A little timid, a little meek over all. I have to be careful with the tone I use when I speak to her because she seems to shrink into herself when I speak too loudly. But she’s good at what she does. She keeps my schedule, and my work life running smoothly. What she lacks in people skills, she makes up for with her brilliance in keeping my office and filing system organized.

She hurries off to make my coffee.

I look around my office, wondering if I should tell my brothers about last night’s issues, or first try and find a solution.They are also getting impatient and a few days ago they were talking about paying this new family a visit. I know that means.

It means someone dies.

Dubrovs don’t appreciate being tested or having their authority challenged.

I think I will try and find a solution to this mess before I update them.

The Kuznetsov family isn’t going anywhere. So, I have to come up with a plan to put them in their place and show them who really runs this city.

If I don’t, my brothers will, and that will involve guns, shooting, war and death.

Hopefully, I can come up with a more amicable way forward.

I should also go and check on the shipments leaving today. I don’t want any more shit.

After a coffee, I’ll head down to the docks.

I can smell the coffee before she walks into my office.

“You are a lifesaver. One day when I meet my wife, I hope she makes coffee as well as you do, “I chuckle to myself and notice how Lianna’s cheeks flush bright pink. Shit. I know she has a little crush on me. I shouldn’t say things like that.

I smile tightly, feeling the awkward tension in the air between us.

“Thanks,” I say, lifting the coffee. She nods, still blushing.

“Just call me if you want another one,” she smiles, then quickly turns away to leave.

Sitting in the office chair, I sip my coffee and strum my fingers across the top of the desk.

One day when I meet my wife—what a stupid thing to say.

But the thought ignites something.

I am the only one of my brothers who is not yet married.

My mind is suddenly racing with ideas and I hate all of them—but the unfortunate reality of this entire fuck up is—it’sthisorwar.

Marriage has long been used in the mafia as a technique for forced alliance.

As far as I know the Kuznetsov family has unmarried sisters.

Fuck.

I clench my jaw. Feeling the idea solidifying in my mind.

I’ve been trying to figure out a solution for weeks. This one makes the most sense.

I wish it didn’t but it’s better than a killing spree, that’s for certain. A kinder option to force the Kuznetsovs into submission.

Later that afternoon, sitting in my car outside a coffee shop in town I am secretly watching the two Kuznetsov sisters having lunch together.

From a distance, they look quite similar to each other. Close in age, both with curly blonde hair and delicate features. They are laughing and enjoying their meal. One of them appears more confident than the other. Perhaps she is older. She pulls my eye towards her more and more as I watch.

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