Page 68 of Bratva Queen

He swirled around in red-hot rage. “I’ll decide what’s enough!”

I bit my tongue and gave him a long hard look before stepping into the corridor and closing the door. I stood with my hands folded in front of me, watching as the blood of the example seeped out from under the door.

I could hear his grunts as he had his way with her. I heard small sounds of protest from her, muffled and contained, as though she didn’t want anyone to hear. I found it weird, surely any woman would be devastated right now. Why would she worry about what her neighbors heard?

“Alek!”

I opened the door and stepped over the man’s body. Stepan was buckling his belt, staring down at her body hunched over, sobbing quietly.

“She wasn’t much fun,” he said in disappointment. “Give me your knife.” I stood motionless for a moment, not wanting to assist in taking her life. “I said—” Stepan started again, but I cut him off.

“I fucking heard you.”

I pulled the blade out of my jacket, something I always carried in case of close combat, and handed it to him. He grabbed it, leaned over, and picked her up from behind, holding her by the chin to expose her neck. I watched her, still wondering why she was silent, then followed her tearful eyes.

Right as Stepan sliced her throat and blood splattered across the room, I noticed the little boy peering through the bedroom door. His eyes were on his mother, his own tears streaming silently down his face. As Stepan retrieved his gun and walked out, I lifted my finger to my mouth.

“Shhh. Close the door. Stay there,” I whispered. The boy’s chin wobbled, but he nodded.

Outside, Stepan fell into the backseat, his energy drained after having his way and accomplishing his task. I closed his door, then went to the driver’s window.

“Take him home, I’ve got to clean up here.”

“He’s an example, Alek!” Stepan groaned from the backseat. “Don’t cover this up!”

“Shewasn’t, boss. I’m going to make sure you don’t lose any more respect in this community.”

“What was that?” Stepan asked angrily, but I spoke to the driver.

“Send Lev to fetch me.”

The driver nodded and drove off quickly. Of course, Stepan was his boss, but often when Stepan was this out of his mind the men preferred to listen to my cool-headed decision to just get him to his bed.

I walked back into the apartment and approached the bedroom door. I knocked gently, slowly opening the door. “Don’t be afraid.”

I saw him huddled behind the bed, crying into his arms. He must have been around eight-years-old. “My… My mama!” He cried.

“I know, son, I know.” I approached him and gently touched his shoulder. “I’m going to take you to a safe place, okay? But you must promise to close your eyes.”

He looked up at me through his tears, deciding whether or not to trust me. I guess he felt he had no other choice, and stood up. I picked him up and set his head against my shoulder, then walked outside to the dismal patch of lawn. I set him on his feet and crouched down in front of him, holding his shoulders to look into his eyes. “Tell me, do you have a grandmama? An aunty? Someone who will look after you?”

Slowly, he shook his head, not meeting my gaze.

“Yebat’,” I said under my breath, and turned to see Lev pull up. I wasn’t going to clean up the boy’s mother’s body, that was a ruse. I only wanted to get this poor kid out of there. It seemed we’d have to leave him at the fire station, since he said he had no other family. Maybe they would find his family for him.

I picked him up again and walked to the car. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Elijah.”

* * *

A few dayslater Stepan called me into his office. He sat with a vodka in hand, wiping his brows to soothe a headache. I’d always known it, but after seeing the heartbreak in that kid’s eyes and knowing the trauma he’d be living with for the rest of his life, I was ready to kill Stepan myself with a swift shot to the head.

I was never supposed to be a bratva man, but I knew it meant more than this. Stepan’s father told me it was about loyalty and honor, about protecting communities that the law could not protect and providing them with jobs even if it meant drug distribution. It was all for the greater good.

Stepan didn’t share that philosophy. He was a selfish, greedy man, and he needed to be eliminated.

“Boss,” I said, closing the door. “You wanted to see me?”

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