Page 19 of Bred To Be Owned

The Bratva take great pride in writing their crimes in tattoos. Originally, it was supposed to scare the opposition, but these days, it was more of an honor than anything else. We weren’t as old world as the Greeks or the Italians, but we preserved our traditions any way we could. I could have denied the ink and proclaimed my innocence to anyone who would listen, but I wasn’t a fool. There wouldn’t be any benefit to lying when Pahkan had the final decision. He already knew the lengths I’d go to, lining his pockets each step of the way. It was easier just to accept my fate. “Where do you want me?” I asked.

“The table’s fine. We’re almost the same height, so I should be able to sit in the other chair. Since the design is pretty intricate, it’ll take most of the night.” Sergio laid his briefcase on the table and prepped the equipment.

Panic set in as I realized my brother had been right. He’d been telling me to be careful the entire time, but I’d rushed in, making uncharacteristic snap decisions. I had gained a reputation for being a meticulous planner, and I was sure there were soldiers watching the situation. They wanted to see me fall from grace, so that they could step into my shoes. I wouldn’t give them that opportunity, but it was a little late now. “When did you come up with the design?” I asked, needing to know how far I’d placed Toula into the line of fire.

“Pahkan ordered it right after I gave you the one on your knuckles. Will you hear an old man out?” he asked, laying a towel on the table to set the inks on.

I laughed, taking a drink from my bourbon. “You’re not an old man.” Sergio’s best years might have been behind him, but he was far from retirement.

“A man knows when he’s past his prime. It’s a little harder to get up every morning when your joints ache.” He snapped the edge of his rubber glove. “I wouldn’t normally offer advice while tattooing. You must know no one’s buying this wedding. Your bride isn’t your intended target. If I had to guess, a certain brunette likely asked for her sister to be protected. I’m not the only who thinks like this, but they won’t openly challenge you. It would be disastrous if they were wrong, so they turn a blind eye. For now.”

“My brother doesn’t,” I said, not sure why I had offered that piece of information.

“Your brother has his own issues, and if he doesn’t silence those demons, they will eat him alive.” Sergio loaded the first ink into the tattoo gun. “Shirt off and sit up. This is going right above your heart.”

Sergio didn’t bother to look at me as I followed his instructions. He sat the gun on the towel, turning towards his briefcase to shuffle through some papers. Laying them out on the table, he looked up atme. “It’s tradition for me to explain the design to you. It’s just us, if you would like me to skip this.”

“No, I wouldn’t want it to get out that you weren’t doing your job.” I smirked at him, and his lips curled up at the corners.

Sergio slid the chair closer to me before he sat down, crossing his leg at the knee. “Your father was the first person I tattooed. He was supposed to burn a rival drug supply. The mission was a success, but as he was leaving the area, someone saw him. It wouldn’t have been a big deal, but he snitched on the other men when they questioned him.”

I finished my drink, waiting for the rest of the story as Sergio appeared lost in the past. His eyes had the glaze of a man who’d seen too much and not by choice.

“Ironically, it was at your mother’s kitchen table. I remember it was late in the evening when I knocked on the door, and when she saw me, she never stopped screeching. Your father didn’t bother saying anything to her. He just sat at the table waiting for me while you ran around in a diaper. Adrik was trying to corral you for bed.”

I didn’t doubt that it had happened, but I had no recollection of the event. My mother had often screeched at the top of her lungs, not being able to cope with anything. Adrik had protected me, and that was probably why I didn’t pull rank when I should have. “My father was a frequent flyer. I can remember him coming home, and he’d always remove his dress shirt, preferring a wife beater underneath. It was a game to figure out if there was anything new.”

“I’ve always wondered if that’s why you and Adrik don’t have that many. Fucked up childhoods will do that to you.” He made a point of scanning my chest, completely bare of ink.

“You and I both know my father was a loyal soldier, but he wasn’t bright.” I didn’t want to analyze the past, but my father had died in themiddle of a job. He had blindly followed orders, and in the end, it had cost him his life. When Adrik and I had joined, I swore I wouldn’t live my life the same way. We’d always been on the same team, but when we received orders, we made sure that it was always an easy in, easy out. No one wanted the tattoos as a reminder of their failure. I’d kept that attitude for most of my career. This was the first time I was flying blindly, which was why my brother was throwing a hissy fit.

Sergio shook his head and picked up the stack of papers. “You covet your wife’s sister,” he started, showing me the design. “The Roman numeral six is for lust after the deadly sins. No one actually celebrates them, but I thought it was a nice touch. It’s sitting on a bed of black roses. I don’t think I need to tell you that if this ends badly, you will make the ultimate sacrifice. The barbed wire surrounding the whole thing symbolizes pain and destruction. No matter how you win her, it won’t be without a fight.”

“How large is this going to be?” It was uncanny how accurate the design’s representation was. As long as I didn’t have to look at it all the time, I’d live. I hadn’t failed yet, but I didn’t want to be reminded there was always a possibility.

“Most of the area is above your heart and reaches to your shoulder. Pahkan wants to make sure it’s visible.”

It was more likely he wanted to use me as an example to keep the rest of the men in line. “Let’s just get this over with.” I watched as Sergio drew the first line of the V for the six. Finishing my bourbon, I threw my head back and waited until this was done. I’d earned it, and I wouldn’t make any excuses. This was my crime to bear alone.

Chapter 12

Toula

I wasn’t alright. I didn’t tell anyone that I was still reeling from the wedding. Using school as an excuse, I avoided any family functions unless absolutely necessary. I didn’t attend breakfast, and I made sure never to be in the compound for family dinner. No one questioned why I was burning the candle at both ends, and in reality, I didn’t want them to. The wedding had left scars, ones I hid even from myself. I didn’t have the answers, and it was easier to just avoid the situation entirely.

Every morning, I left early for school, avoiding any interaction. It had worked until my father had stopped me in the foyer one morning. He’d leaned against the arch and stroked his chin, watching me pack my backpack.“I asked Angelo what time you normally leave. You must be working hard. It’s not even six in the morning.”

He hadn’t asked me a direct question, so I gave the answer that I knew would please him. “I just want you to be proud of me, Páteras.” Honestly, that was far from the truth. I couldn’t look my family in theeye, knowing I’d been a part of the Russian’s marriage contract. It all seemed like a fragile lie waiting to implode.

He shook his head and scrunched up his nose. “Are you planning on coming home tonight?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, giving a generic answer. His expression was blank, but I still felt the weight of his expectations. My father constantly waited, watching for me to break. I would never give him the satisfaction of gloating.

“Oh, well.” He straightened his stance, walking towards me. “School’s almost over, and you’ll need another project to occupy your time.” His hand slid into his pocket, and he pulled out a card. Handing it to me, he said, “I figured you would want to stop here on your way home.”

The card was blank on one side, but as I flipped it over, I noticed there was a hand-written address. I said nothing as I raised my head to look back at my father.

“That’s the address I’ve assigned to your new club. Funds shouldn’t be an issue, but you will need to turn a profit, Toula. I can’t have a failing business run by my daughter in my portfolio. I don’t think I need to explain what’s at stake here.”

---