Page 35 of Bratva Queen

“Like I said, my papa taught me survival skills.”

She scoffed lightly. “A little under exaggeration there, but okay… What did you find behind the door?”

“My brother. Beaten to a pulp.”

She watched me quietly, absorbed by the story.

“The guy watching over him turned to me with this huge gun, and I just walked up to him and took him by the throat before he could even say a word. I disarmed him by ripping the gun from his hand and throwing him to the floor. Just as I kicked him, I heard a whistle behind me. Like, a slow, impressed kind of whistle. I turned to see Mr. Koslov, Stepan’s father.”

Isabel sat up a little straighter.

“I asked him what his plan was for my brother, and he told me that Gregori had not only used up a substantial amount of their dope and owed them a lot of money but that he’d also given bratva intel to some rival dealers looking for more drugs in return.”

“Oh, shit…” Her eyes were locked on mine, her fingers slowly touching her lip.

“Yeah. I already knew it was a death sentence. But Mr. Koslov looked at me and said: ‘You not only found my den, but you walked in here and took out three of my soldiers.’ And so he offered me a deal. Instead of killing my brother, I could pay off his debt as a bratva soldier myself.”

“They just let him go?”

“No. I had to make sure he left the city so he wouldn’t be a threat anymore. I sent him to live in Saint Petersburg with an uncle of ours. Of course he wasn’t happy with it, but it was that or his life.”

“Okay, so… When did Stepan come in?”

“I worked for his father for two years, rising pretty quickly through the ranks. I was a sharpshooter, I was stealthy, and I was quiet. He seemed to trust me.” I shrugged. “Then Stepan turned eighteen, and his father assigned me to be his right-hand man, mentor, bodyguard…”

“Babysitter.”

I chuckled. “Yes. Anyway, to get to the point, I saw Stepan grow into the man he is today. He was reckless, spoiled, and he was given the throne much too soon, only a few years later. It went to his head and he… he liked to use his power in very disturbing ways.”

Isabel frowned. “Disturbing ways?”

I looked at her, taking a moment before answering. “He’d laugh while beating a man to death; he would practice his shooting skills on traitors’ bodies, as in, shoot each limb, see how many shots he could get in before the guy died. He did the same with knives.”

“What the fuck?”

“He enjoyed the power that came with inducing pain. Prostitutes would leave his room black and blue.”

Isabel grew silent, and her eyes grew wide.

“I spoke with his father about it but he shrugged, saying it was just the Koslov in him. Stepan had been seeing a young woman regularly—you could say she was his girlfriend. But once he started his violent ways in the bedroom she tried to run.”

I made sure to narrow my eyes and show Isabel how serious the situation was.

“She made it to a motel three hours out of the city. He ah… he found her. I wasn’t there that night. But… I never saw her again.”

She swallowed, shifting uncomfortably on the couch.

“There was another girlfriend, Isabel, he found her in bed with a bratva soldier. He shot the guy in the head, while she still sat on top of him. She ran into the bathroom, but he was faster and followed her in there. I tried to stop him, but he pointed his gun at me until I backed up and he closed the door. There was this darkness in his eyes… a blackness. Like rage had possessed him.”

Isabel began tearing up but tried to hide it and act unaffected.

“Look, I won’t give you too many details, but he spent a long while with her in that bathroom… until I couldn’t hear any more screams.”

Isabel stood up from the couch and shook her hands, like she was trying to loosen her limbs, trying to shake the shock and rage out of her body. I was silent; I figured I’d said enough for her to grasp the gravity of the situation. When she turned back around, her tears were rolling down her cheeks.

“So… so why didn’t you warn me?”

I sat back with a sigh. “He hasn’t killed every girlfriend he’s had, Isabel. If he got bored, he merely moved along. I hoped he’d do the same with you—no offense, of course—but he’s seemingly hooked on you,” I said glumly.

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