Page 6 of Captivated By the Bratva

The short building that I pulled up to didn’t raise any concerns. Gregory did his business at the nondescript convenience store mart, and it was a common cover for laundering money.

Like any other convenience mart all over the country—hell, all over the world—it looked like what I expected it to. At least from the outside, it did. The one-story structure didn’t stand out. All the windows were covered with posters of advertisements. Neon signs described the cost of ice and cold beer.

When I entered and went inside to seek Gregory, though, I quickly realized this place wasn’t like any other ordinary convenience store.

This one had been vandalized. Recently.

Shelves lay on their sides. Containers and bags of drinks and food had been ripped open and flung all over the floor. Puddles preceded smashed bottles. Windows to refrigerator walk-in units were splintered and cobwebbed with cracks.

In the corner, near the register, was a man.

“Mr. Petrov.” I called it out firmly at the same time I reached for my gun. If anyone was still here and lingering, I’d be prepared. The Petrovs were under Valkov protection. If this was a gang incident or an issue with territories, I’d be expected to help defend the man and his place while I was here. The Petrovs weren’t close to the main Bratva organization, but we had to stand with the remote alliance expected between us.

“Huh?” Gregory lifted his face from where he’d buried it in his hands. Red, swollen welts showed on his face, neck, and arms. Many more injuries likely hid behind his clothes. Limping out from the corner where he’d been picking through a first-aid kit, he narrowed his eyes at me. Or he tried to, around the swelling. “Who are you?”

I raised my brows. He had no grounds to use that tone with me, likeIwas the bad guy here. Then again, it looked like he’d justgotten his ass beat, so I couldn’t blame him for being a little prickly.

I replied by tugging down my collar. All of us brothers had tattoos to indicate our standing in the Bratva. Only us five brothers had this specific marking, identifying us as the top leaders directly beneath Alek, who’d update his ink to show that he was thePakhan.

“Oh.” Gregory furrowed his brow and limped closer. He pressed a towel to a deep cut on his forearm as he approached. “About mother fucking time I get some representation from above.”

“What did you just say?” I kept my voice low and level, but he caught every note of lethal seriousness in my question. He noticed how thin the ice was that he stood on with asking that question.

“They just came through here.” He shook his head a bit, not looking at me but at the damage all over his business. “Theyjustfucking came through here. Tore the place up.” He lifted a hand to uselessly gesture at the damage, as if I were blind. “Beat the shit outta me.” He pointed at himself. Blood dribbled from his brow, and he wiped it away too quickly, wincing at the pain that came with raising his arm that fast.

“Not my problem.”

He sneered. “No?”

I shoved my hands in my pockets. “No. How the fuck would it be my fault?”

“I asked thePakhanfor help. Months ago.”

“Help to what? Findyourdaughter?” I huffed, losing my patience fast. Everyone assumed I was an easygoing guy.Normally, I could be. But this bullshit? I had zero patience for someone whining about their mistakes and stupid decisions.

“Yes!” He growled and dabbed at the blood leaking from his cuts. As he limped closer, still scowling at the damage, he kicked a can of coffee aside. Beans spilled out further, and the aroma of them rose as his shoe crunched over them. “I told thePakhanthat she wasn’t listening.”

I held my hand up to silence him. “She’syourdaughter. Not anyone else’s. This is your fuckup to deal with. No one else’s. I’m here, courtesy of the Pakhan, to salvage the situation.”

“Yeah, well you’re too fucking late?—”

I reached closer to grab the front of his bloodied shirt. Hauling him up, I slitted my eyes. “Do not imply that you expect me to babysit you, too.”

He shut up, glowering, and I released him with a shove.

“I came here for information. Give it to me.”

He rolled his eyes. “You? I’m supposed to think someone likeyouis gonna get Nadia to come home and do as I say?”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I crossed my arms, daring him to talk shit.

Gregory mumbled under his breath, slowly making his way toward a stool that had been overturned. He struggled to keep the rag on his bleeding wound while he set the chair upright, but he managed at last. Slumping onto the seat, he closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.

“If you want me to find your daughter, I need information.” I didn’t have all day to play games. It sucked for him thathe’d gotten his ass whooped by Avilov’s men. But it wasn’t my concern. It was Gregory’s fault for getting into this to begin with.

“She’s in London, studying,” he said dryly. “As soon as she graduated high school, she took off there on a scholarship. She seems to think that hiding at a fancy university will keep her safe. It won’t. She can’t hide for good.”

But is she actually at the university?If she really wanted to get away from the arrangement, it could be a cover she used.

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