So here I was, knowing my life was in the hands of others, knowing I had no choice but to go along and hope for the best.
Because as soon as I said “I do” to Nikolai Petrov, I’d be nothing but a vessel for his sexual depravity, and the babies he’d make me have for him.
Chapter
Two
Nikolai
The lights were obnoxious, the music too loud. And the people grinding and bumping against each other reminded me of cattle. They stunk, were sweaty, and I found myself curling my upper lip in disgust.
I followed my older brother Dmitry through the dance floor, the bodies parting ahead of us, my fingers twitching because all I thought about was pulling out my gun and shooting the next drunken asshole who elbowed me.
We finally made it to the backroom, and once the door was shut behind me, I leaned against it, crossing my arms over my chest, my leather jacket stretching across my chest, my hand close to my gun tucked in the holster at my side.
Dmitry had been silent for the last twenty minutes since we found out we had a motherfucking traitor right under our noses. I could feel the tension and aggression seething from him because of it.
My brother walked over to the scarred wooden desk across from the door, a stack of papers on one side, the rest scattered across the top. The grey, old as fuck chair behind it was pressed to the wall, the large black stain and three holes on the backrest a lasting memory that had me smirking on how it got there.
Because of me. Because I’d shot the bastard who’d been sitting in it just last year. Fucker had been cooking our books and skimming off the top.
I made sure to put that problem to rest real damn fast. And I got a thrill of pleasure every time I stared at that dam near black stain from where I’d put three bullets in his chest.
“Where is he?” Dmitry finally spoke, his voice deep, rough, and filled with a hell of a lot of emotions.
“They’re bringing him in, Pakhan.” Vladislav said, staying to the side, his hands clasped behind his back and taking on the stance of a good and loyal soldier.
And the prick they were bringing to us? Stupid asshole had also been stealing from us. But that wasn’t even the biggest issue. If that had been the only issue that had come up I would have made an example of him by cutting off his hands.
But nah, the bastard was also giving intel to our enemies, making back alley fucking deals to line his pockets and gain connections. Fucker actually thought we wouldn’t find out.
So now there wouldn’t just be sawed off hands, but also a hell of a lot of other painful things I’d do to remedy the situation.
That’s where we differed. Dmitry let his emotions control him. Although I wasn’t a fucking sociopath by the technical term, but I sure as hell knew how to keep my emotions in check and keep that mask in place.
Showing emotions was dangerous, and in our world that was nothing but a weakness.
Dmitry had his back to us, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his dark jeans. He stared at the wall, an out of date calendar tacked to it.
We all stood there in silence as we waited for the soon-to-be-dead piece of shit to make an appearance.
I stared at my brother, who remained like stone, his body tense, the dangerous fucking energy radiating from him.
I was glad he’d taken over as Pakhan for the Bratva in our city of Desolation. Because even despite his lack of keeping his emotions in check and staying cool under pressure, his fucking mind was like a work of art. All critical thinking and twisted plot reasoning.
The bastard was a damn mastermind.
“We expected this,” Dmitry said and turned to face me.
I didn’t respond, knowing he was talking about the traitor and what led up to this. Our father had been so consumed in his own greed and power struggle that he didn’t notice what was right in front of him. But we saw everything, so after he was taken out we saw a shift in ranks.
There were bastards who were trying to go against us in our own organization, and because they were trying to expedite shit, they were getting sloppy. When you didn’t take your time that's when mistakes started to happen… that's when you got caught.
Like what was going to happen to the bastard who would die by our hands tonight.
“With father out of the picture there’s bound to be those in the Bratva that push back with the change in leadership.”
I grunted my agreement.