Page 20 of Bratva Daddies for the Single Mom

“We can cancel,” Viktor agreed with a tilt of his head toward me.

Fyodor fixed his tie. “It’s an important meeting.” Regret tinged his tone. He tapped my knees with both palms. “While I would much rather stay here and finish this, it is in your best interests to join the meeting. Councilman Jones is the last one you need in your corner.”

Viktor grunted at that. “Fine. We will proceed with the meeting.” He faced me. “There is a breakroom on the fifth floor. You are welcome to stay there until we’re finished. We’ll come back for you after our meeting.” The warmth in his eyes drained away, leaving them cold and emotionless.

I slid off the table and pulled my skirt back down so it covered my thighs. My panties were a lost cause, the scraps of material lying on opposite sides of the room.

Ilya grumbled under his breath, the words foreign and harsh to my ears. He hugged me to his chest, almost crushing me with the force of his embrace. “It is good I found you. Wait for us.” He released me, tipped my chin up with one finger, and kissed the corner of my mouth. “We have much to discuss.”

My nipples tightened at the look of adoration he gave me. I’d never seen a more brutal man in my life than the one who broke a man’s wrist hours ago. But this Ilya? This one skated a feather-light touch over my cheek and down my arm, almost as though he feared hurting me so he held back all his strength. How did I tell him that I wanted to feel all of that devastation?

What would it be like to bear the brunt of that power, the full force of his strength, with his cock buried inside me and his violence driving his thrusts? I barely repressed the shiver of fear mingled with curiosity and kissed his cheek. “Have a good meeting.” I kissed each of them before Viktor opened the door and led the way down the hallway.

Ilya and Fyodor marched along beside me, with Viktor leading the way. When Ilya made a comment in Kent’s building about Viktor being in charge, I didn’t quite grasp the full severity of it. Now, I did. I saw the way both men deferred to him, though Fyodor had reasoned with Viktor when he wanted to cancel the meeting. They were a unit, but Viktor held power over Ilya and Fyodor. The four of us filled the elevator. Once again, they surrounded me. I had a moment of apprehension. Was I a prisoner to be kept between them? I brushed that thought aside. They were protective, and by putting me in the center, they made me the object that grounded them. I grinned and made sure my skirt and shirt were in place. The doors opened and Ilya stepped aside. “Break room is right there, straight across the hallway.”

“Thank you.” I’d barely stepped through to the hallway when the doors closed and I was left alone in a strange place with no friends. Well. I was used to that. I slipped into the breakroom and made my way straight to the coffee counter in the corner. They called it a break room, but the luxury of the entire building extended here as well. Instead of the usual plastic chairs and folding tables, they had leather recliners, rolling chairs, and solid wood tables. Hardwood floors ran the length of the room, and one entire wall boasted a series of vending machines and a refrigerator. The coffee corner where I stood offered three different kinds of coffee in carafes, along with a single-serve coffee maker with flavored pods in a spinning rack and an assortment of flavored creamers, sugar packets, and milk alternatives. I’d never seen a company take such care and consideration for their employees. It warmed me to Viktor even more.

I poured a cup of decaf coffee and added my favorite French vanilla creamer. Keeping my back to the room, I glanced over my shoulder for a place to sit where I’d be out of the way.

A group of women sat behind me, all of them looking comfortable in rolling chairs that they’d pulled up close to the table. Intensity rolled off them, their conversation hushed.

Since I loved a little intrigue and dirty gossip, I inched my way closer, making sure to stick close to the wall.

“I’m telling you, I heard it for myself.” A woman in a sleek, red dress pressed a cup to her lips and sipped.

The other four women edged closer. “Heard what?”

Knowing she had them eating out of the palm of her hand, she continued to sip her coffee and watch them over the rim. “The whole thing is a front.”

My mouth twisted to the side. A front? What was a front? And for what?

“Does Viktor know?” A blonde woman with hair to her waist and a cute button nose scrunched her lips together in a pout.

The woman in red laughed, the sound bitter and caustic. “Viktor owns the company. Of course he knows. Ilya and Fyodor are his henchmen.”

I froze at that. I’d known Viktor was the man with power and that Ilya and Fyodor were close but not at the top of the corporate ladder. The henchmen comment threw me.

“Spit it out, Elise.” The blonde woman crossed her arms and glared at the woman in red, Elise.

Elise rolled her eyes, obviously upset at having her power yanked away. “You all can’t be this naive. Viktor launders money, and he uses this business to make it look legit.” She leaned halfway across the table, her voice dropping so quiet I almost missed her next words. “They’re actually in charge of the Chicago Bratva.” At the placid expressions on her companions' faces, Elise groaned. “You’re fucking with me? You don’t know that’s what they call the Russian Mafia?” She snapped her fingers in their faces. “Come on, girls. Wake up and smell the money scheme.”

My stomach dropped. Bitter nausea churned and threatened to rise when I remembered another woman’s words on another night. The night of the auction. One of the women in line with me mentioned the Bratva. She’d said they were responsible for the auction. I palmed my throat, hoping to push the nausea down. The man who’d bid on me. When Viktor outbid him, he’d turned and looked, then turned silent when he saw Viktor. Was it true? Had I gotten wrapped up in the Mafia?

Ilya’s actions at Kent’s office made more sense with this new information swirling through me. He’d been cold, calculating, and relentless, all things I’d grown up associating with what I knew of the Mafia. Violence. Threats. Demands. The domineering way Viktor lorded over everyone, even his friends. Even when he wasn’t trying.

“You’re a lying bitch,” a third woman hissed at Elise. She tucked her cup close to her chest and snarled wider than a rabid dog. “You’re jealous because they ignore you.”

“Do you have proof?” the blonde asked.

Elise turned up her nose and stared down at all of them with the haughty expression of a goddess discovering her worth. “I don’t need proof. I heard it from a reliable party.”

“Oh, right.” Another blonde scoffed and waved a dainty hand. “Let me guess. You slept with someone who knows someone who once had dealings with Viktor and they said that he’s in league with the Mafia.”

“Not in league.” Elise had them captivated. She finished her coffee and set her cup down, pushing away from the table. “In charge.”

What the actual fuck? I longed to dig my fingers into my ears to block out the hateful words I’d heard. It was impossible to remove them, and the truth of it threatened to strangle me. I’d let them fuck me. I’d been ready to do anything they asked not an hour ago. They’d eaten me out and given me orgasms unlike anything I’d thought possible.

None of that was worth the risk to my girls.

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