Page 71 of Bratva Queen

I grabbed his arm and twisted him around speedily, just the way Aleksei had taught me long ago, then shoved him up against the wall. With his cheek to the bricks, he retaliated. “Whoa, whoa, lady! What are you, the fucking police?”

“No.” I pulled out my dagger and held it against his throat. “Tell me who you work for.”

He chuckled, “Hell no.”

I slid the dagger across his skin, drawing blood, then held the tip against his throat, ready to push it straight in.

“Okay, okay! Fuck! I’m a Koslov bratva man!”

“Who is your main supplier? Where do you get your parcels?”

“I don’t know his name! We pick up shipments from a warehouse! That’s it!”

“Where is the warehouse?”

“I’m not fucking telling you that! You’re that lady, the one running the secret bratva ring! I could be killed for telling you—”

“Oh yeah?” I quickly plunged my dagger into his shoulder, just inside of the collar bone. “Don’t bet on me sparing your life either.”

He screamed, writhing, but I had him in an armlock, stabbing my heel into his foot for good measure. “Fine! Fine! Shit!”

“Tell me.” I pulled the dagger from his shoulder.

He gave me the address and I let go of his arm. He turned around with his back against the wall, looking at me in bewilderment as I put my sunglasses back on and wiped my blade across his jacket.

“You’d better run,priyatel’, your Koslov brethren will soon find out who spilled the intel.” One anonymous text message would see to that.

His eyes grew and he looked at me, looked at the busy street, then, holding his injured shoulder, he rushed behind the buildings instead, into the shadows. I hoped, for his sake, that he knew how to run and stay hidden. It wasn’t in my nature to kill men, but I would let the bratva manage their own men the way they saw fit, if it helped me.

I made my way to my office, AKA, a jewelry store on a bustling city street. It sparkled with real diamond jewelry lit up by warm lights and had constant security. It was a real store, with real customers. I hid in plain sight, with business owners around the block only ever seeing me arrive or leave with a large hat or head scarf on.

On my way there, I moved in circles and zigzags in case the fucker followed me. He didn’t. Once I was at my desk in my large and comfortable office on the floor above the store, I called Igor in, hoping to discuss a stake-out of this warehouse when the time was right. My men had been keeping tabs on the Koslov dealers so they knew when the shipments were handed out each month. We just needed to wait for that day, then attack the warehouse and find the supplier. Then, finally, I might draw Stepan out here to slice his throat myself.

“Bella,” he walked in, looking out of breath and excited, using my fake name. “You won’t believe it.”

“I’m sure I will,” I said, lighting up a new cigarette. I still had Aleksei on my mind, feeling the loss deeply because I’d never love anyone again. Other than my sons, he still held my heart and I left it with him. I needed to, in order to become the cold boss I was today.

“Stepan is dead.”

“What?” I stood up from my desk. “How? Who did it?”

“No one knows.” He shrugged. “All that the guys in Moscow know is that Stepan flew to New York with his sons, and only his sons came back.”

My mouth hung slightly open, and a smile slowly grew. “Igor, go tell the men to stop following the Koslovs. We have no more reason to.”

He frowned, “There will be a new boss, we should still find their supplier—”

“Just go!” I said loudly, leaning forward onto my desk. When I was alone, I scoffed in disbelief. “I don’t believe it… They got him… My strong boys did it!”

They were still so young, only teenagers. I was worried they’d been brainwashed by him already and conditioned to live their lives the way he did. But it sounded to me like they rose up against him. I wondered how they did it. Did they make him suffer? I shook my head at myself. “They’re teenagers, Isa…” I whispered. “They must be traumatized by something like this.”

I had to get home and prepare. I called Lev on the way. “Lev, I heard the news!”

“Can you believe it?” He asked, hushed but excited. “The story is that he was meeting with a new client, trying to spread business to America, and the deal went skew.”

“And what’s therealstory?”

“Well, the boys won’t talk about it… But by the looks Misha and Ivan keep giving Dmitry, I’m guessing it was him. He got it the worst of all the boys. It wouldn’t surprise me.”

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