Page 1 of The Bratva's Virgin Bride

Chapter 1 - Viktor

I need to get out of my head. I don't know how I let Anton convince me that going clubbing was the answer, but here I am, driving through the streets of Las Vegas in my Audi, music blaring. The streets are wet and I'm a bit reckless as I weave through the various cars in my way. The lights along the boulevard are bright and it gives me a slight headache. I prefer dim and muted. Las Vegas is such a tourist attraction, and it's busy. But this is where Kervyn set up shop, so this is where we have to work.

I'm not far from the club now and soon, I pull into the parking next to Anton's MG and get out. The club is two stories, with people queuing up outside to get in. I walk straight to the front of the line and the bouncer opens for me, much to the protest of people waiting.

The hazy view from where I'm standing does little to fix my mood, which is bad at the best of times. So much has happened. So much is happening, and I feel like I'm out of sorts. Something isn't sitting right with me. It doesn't matter that I'm a cousin to the biggest Bratva leader in Las Vegas. It doesn't matter that my brother has opened up this and other clubs in our names to see our family succeed. Nothing matters, not really. It hasn't for a while now.

We're sitting in the VIP section of our newest club. I walk over there and pass the bouncer. It has a wooden bar spanning one side of the room, mahogany wood varnished to a glossy finish, which glistens under the lights behind and in front of the bar. There's a dance floor in the middle with poles for the ladies to get creative on. Two are taken. The girls are twirling around them like idiots who have no clue how to dance. How did they even get into the VIP section? I don't know.

I walk over to Anton, who is standing by the bar.

“Viktor. I was wondering if you were going to make it,” he says with a Cheshire grin.

He turns to the bartender and orders a refill for himself and a whiskey for me. I lean against the bar next to him. “To be honest, I didn't really feel like coming out,” I admit.

“Tough day?” Anton asks as he looks at me. My twin. Different in only a few ways, such as our eye color. I'm reckless whereas he thinks things through. I'm harsh, whereas he is calm. Doesn't make either of us any less deadly. We are Bratva, after all—we're in the business of being deadly.

I shake my head. “No tougher than usual. I just didn't feel like coming out.”

“Why? Has Rigor done something to piss you off?” he asks, handing me my whiskey. I sip it slowly.

“No, he hasn't done anything. I'm just… distracted.”

“Who or what has you distracted?” he asks.

I wish I knew and I tell him as much. Anton sips his whiskey slowly and looks around. “It's a beautiful night to be out. Let's see if we can find something else to distract you with. Maybe some pretty girls from the dance floor.”

I don't really care. I shrug and move to one of the chairs, slouching down in it and setting my whiskey in front of me on the table. Anton joins me and we both simply watch the happenings of the club for a moment before a group of three women enter the VIP section. Women? No, they're more like girls. Too young to be drinking in our club, but who are we to judge?

“Now we're talking,” Anton says. He motions for the bartender to come to him. “Tell the girls to join us and bring a bottle of your finest red wine for them.”

“Yes, Sir,” the bartender says, hurrying off.

I watch as he speaks to the girls. They look over and start giggling. Definitely too young to be drinking in our bar, but who am I to stop Anton from having fun? The girls come over to the table and the tall blonde one smiles at Anton. “Hi, thanks for the wine.”

“You are most welcome,” Anton says. “I hope you three will join my brother and I.”

“I'm Mickey, this is Jody and Sarah.” She motions to her two friends, who look like they can be sisters.

“Sit, sit,” Anton says, not introducing us. We never introduce ourselves, it keeps the mystery going. “What are a lovely trio of girls like you doing in a dump we own?”

“You own this club?” Jody says, mesmerized. She sits beside Anton while Sarah sits beside me. Mickey sits between them and we form a circle around the table. The bartender brings the wine and three glasses.

“We do,” Anton says with an enormous smile. “Our family does, at least. We're all co-owners.”

“That's amazing,” Jody says, sipping her wine. I don't miss the slight face she pulls. She's not used to drinking. They must be about nineteen or twenty years old at most.

Mickey sips her wine a bit better than Jody does. She must be the party animal of the group. “Well, we're just so lucky to have met you.”

I scoff quietly, and Sarah looks at me curiously. I look at her. “You're not lucky to meet people like us.”

“What my brother is trying to say,” Anton says loudly, “is that we're the lucky ones to have bumped into you tonight.”

Sarah smiles up at me and bats her eyelids. I don't pay her any mind, focusing instead on my whiskey. I take a deep sip. Anton continues to flirt with the girls, asking them about their lives. They're in college, apparently, and Sarah is studying to be a doctor. Mickey is studying to be a lawyer and Jody is studying to be an accountant. All high-class pursuits, but they are just little girls spending their daddy's money without a care in the world. They don't belong in my world. I get up suddenly and Anton looks at me, surprised.

“I need the men's room,” I say, downing my whiskey and leaving without looking back. I hear the girls laughing even over the music, and I know they're trying too hard. Anton had best not get himself into trouble.

I go upstairs to the office, where there's a private bathroom I can use. Afterward, I walk out to the balcony and look down at the club. Nothing is interesting to me right now, and it's a listlessness that unsettles me. Normally, I'm all bravado and confidence, but lately, I feel deflated. I'm more reckless and ruthless than Anton is, that's for sure, but I feel no inclination to do anything. Am I depressed?

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