THE RUSSIAN THUG: Abducted by the Bratva ~Krasnov Brothers Book 1~

by Warren, Rie

  Bodies piled up, but none of ours.

  None of the Irish brothers’ crew either.

  Only one enemy remained alive.

  Jo’s father.

  Her three brothers surrounded him.

  Robbie was so far unharmed, and I hoped this wasn’t some other devious O’Sullivan plot.

  But then Lucky drew his gun to aim at their dad’s head, and his grim expression showed no mercy at all.

  “Wait,” I ordered.

  I spun back to Jo where she huddled, Boris alert at her side.

  Helping her to her feet, I steadied her.

  So much fury still beat through me, but this wasn’t the time.

  I brought her forward. Inside the ring of six brothers from two different mafias, one woman stood.

  I handed her my Walther.

  She looked from the weapon to her da, and all fear erased from her face.

  Straightening up, Joanna O’Sullivan walked another two steps forward, within reaching distance of her father.

  “What the hell’s this?” He balked, cornered by his progeny. “You boys, my boys, you’re just gonna let your pain in the ass sister—”

  “Shut the fuck up.” Lucky pistol-whipped him.

  “Forever,” Kelly murmured, jaw hard.

  Jo aimed, her chin tilted out, her eyes narrowed. “This was a long time coming, Da.”

  The sound of the shot ricocheted around the room and made her arm recoil.

  Robbie O’Sullivan dropped down like a dead weight, and a crimson stain oozed from the bullet hole in his chest.

  Jo capped him two more times—once in the head and once in the stomach.

  Then she lowered the gun.

  She came to me.

  I took the weapon from her shaking hand, and her whole body began trembling.

  I caught her to keep her upright.

  I wanted to embrace her, needed to make sure she was whole and here and alive.

  But I was ablaze with anger aimed directly at her now that she was out of danger.

  My fingers curled into her shoulders, and I forgot all about her brothers standing right there. My brothers too.

  I shook her, biting out sharp words through clamped teeth. “What the fuck were you thinking? How the hell could you put yourself in a position like this? I goddamn ought to put a leash on you!”

  Lucky moved to intervene.

  I gave him a toxic glare, and he stopped in his tracks.

  “I’m sorry!” More tears broke over the dam of Jo’s lower lids. “I’m so sorry, Kirill. He tricked me! He said he was Lucky, and that you all might be in trouble, and—”

  “I don’t want to hear it.” I was so fucking furious my words came out like bullets.

  She hung her head, all that red hair hiding her face.

  “You . . .” My voice cracked. I swallowed a whole load of venom. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed. You almost fucking did!”

  Drawing my hands off of her because I was too far gone, too close to strangling her for her disobedience, I clenched my fingers into hard, tight balls.

  “I don’t see why you’d care.” Her words came out as ghosts of sound that nearly drifted away.

  Sheer anger and uncontrollable emotion pulsed through every part of my body in that precise moment, and I loomed over her.

  “Because I love you, you fucking pain in the ass!” I shouted it out, in front of everyone.

  Jo’s eyes flicked up, wide with surprise.

  My brothers and hers gawked at us.

  “And now I’m definitely tying you to my bed and locking you up forever.” I slashed a furious kiss over her lips before lifting her into my arms.

  I took no time to consider the consequences of my outburst. I didn’t give a fuck what anyone else thought and much less Jo.

  Muscles bursting with anger I hadn’t unloaded yet, I marched out of that horrible room and took the stairs. Jo kept her mouth shut—a first—and clung to me. My fingers touched bare skin, and her flesh was cold, shivers radiating from her body.

  “Boris, come.” I shouted over my shoulder.

  I heard him pouncing after us, then my brothers too.

  And we left everyone else behind, including the corpses.

  Those fucking brothers of hers could deal with the fallout and the mess.

  I was going to deal with their sister.

  At the SUV, Maksim and Arkady took the front seats. Boris leaped in only after I stowed Jo in the back and climbed in beside her.

  I held Jo right up against me during the entire drive.

  Her shaking never ceased but, every so often, she glanced surreptitiously at me.

  Back home, we entered through the club.

  I wanted everyone to see she was safe.

  I thought about threatening Jo some more, telling her I’d have to kill the maid because Jo had taken her keycard.

  But I knew I wouldn’t go quite that far.

  Sasha ran forward, grabbing Jo’s hands when I set her on her wobbly feet.

  “She’s fine,” I said curtly, moving Jo through the room.

  Baba hugged her, whispering in Russian Jo probably couldn’t understand and I didn’t hear close enough.

  My anger vibrated. I still felt like I was about to blow a gasket.

  Not even slashing that motherfucking mafia dude to pieces had taken the edge off my wrath.

  Then Yury approached.

  “She is back.” His grave tone and masked expression made Jo shrink smaller than she ever had.

  “She is.” I bit off the words. “Her father is finished. His loyal soldiers ghosted too. No further problems expected from the O’Sullivans.”

  One corner of his mouth curled up.

  The other dipped down. “We still have the upper hand then. You will keep it that way.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue again to tell him Jo wasn’t leverage but something much more important, but I didn’t need to fight a battle with him today.

  I still had one more to finish with the female in question.

  Upstairs, I took Jo directly to the bathroom. I couldn’t look her in the eye as I took care of her. Bruised again. Mostly her face.

  I gave her some ibuprofen, asked if she was hungry.

  With her face aimed at the floor like a child waiting to be chastised, she shook her head. “I just want to lay down.”

  I grunted, turning my back while she took off my shirt to put something else on.

  It was only midday.

  I still wanted to beat her. I knew I couldn’t touch her, much less fuck her.

  I’d barely found her before that Italian pizda had the chance to rut her on the bare disgusting mattress. At least I hoped so.

  Stepping out of my shoes, I shucked the rest of my clothes down to my briefs.

  Something gnawed viciously at my guts.

  Maybe this was how Jo had felt when I’d been taken by the Yakuza, but I was one hell of a lot more adept at handling a situation like that.

  I cracked my neck. Popped my knuckles.

  Turning, I found her climbing beneath the covers. She wore the least revealing clothes I’d given her—the one pair of sweats that fit low on her hips and a long-sleeved top even though it wasn’t exactly cold.

  Getting in beside her, I didn’t touch her.

  I was afraid I’d beat the holy hell out of her for doing something so rash. For putting her life in danger regardless of the fact I’d strictly forbidden her from stepping foot outside of the apartment.

  It should’ve been fucking obvious she wasn’t to leave without my express permission.

  Silence thickened the air, so heavy with unsaid words and angry accusations.

  I remained on my back, woodenly rigid.

  She made a sound of distress then curled into a tight ball on her side.

  When she started sniffling—stifling the noises—she broke off some piece of my heart.

  “I’m sorry,” she said in a cracked whisper.

  “I am p
issed at you.” Finally relenting, I rolled toward her.

  I still wouldn’t touch her.

  “I know. I understand.” Bleary eyes lifted to mine, and she looked defeated.

  I’d told her I loved her, but I just couldn’t forgive her.

  “I’ll go.” Her hazel irises shone with more tears. “If that’s what you want.”

  I reared up. “I don’t want you to go!”

  What I wanted was to fucking throttle her.

  Then fill her with my cock to remind her she was mine, and no one could take that—take her—away from me.

  “I want you to be careful.” I gripped her upper arm, saw her wince when I mercilessly held her flesh that had been bruised all over again.

  I released her, breathing out a deep growling noise. “Blyad. I need you to be careful.”

  She barely nodded, staring at me with those stricken guilty eyes.

  Our differences. All the obstacles. Overcome.

  Maybe that was what made us stronger together.

  But she was still so fucking obstinate.

  I’d decided her punishment would be drastic, but she’d already been through so much.

  Too much.

  “Come here.” I opened my arms, and she rushed into them with a close-fitting embrace.

  I could only hold her stiffly, my jaw aching, my shoulders tight with so much strain.

  “I love you too, Kirill,” she whispered fiercely against my neck.

  My lids swooped down.

  All tension loosened from my body like someone had pulled a ripcord from my heart.

  Hands gentler, I cradled her against me, forming a wall of protection around her that would never be destroyed.

  “Did they hurt you. I mean . . . more than I can see? More than I saw?” My voice hoarse, I tipped her face up to mine.

  “They didn’t have time.” She bit her lip then looked away. “I hoped you’d come, but I didn’t think you would.”

  A halt in my breath.

  A large swallow.

  “When you’re in trouble, I will always come for you, malyshka.”

  “I killed my da.” Maybe it was the shock of realization that made her start quaking then.

  “You killed one of the only men in your life who should never hurt you, torture you, or abuse you.” My words were forceful. “If you hadn’t I damn sure would’ve.”

  “Do you really love me?” She sounded so timid and unsure . . . so unlike the Joanna I knew.

  I considered denying it, but with my heart finally slowing and settling now that she was safe, now that she’d apologized and said she loved me and had learned her lesson, I couldn’t.

  “I do.” Bending my lips to hers, I brushed them more softly than I would’ve thought possible.

  When I pulled back only to snuggle her deeper, I murmured against her hair with a dry twist of humor I could finally afford, “Unfortunately.”

  24

  Jo

  THE IMPACT OF THAT devastating day lasted far longer than I would’ve imagined.

  I’d killed my father. I shot him once then two more times.

  Sometimes I wished I’d emptied the entire clip into him or torn him apart like Kirill had done to Bastiano—stabbing the Italian with a violence that left my assailant more blood and guts than flesh and bone.

  I’d been on the verge of just begging to be killed, to end the painful misery of my life under my da’s thumb, when all those men had busted in.

  Three brothers times two, but just one lover.

  Within the blink of an eye, they’d decimated my father’s army.

  Damion had dropped dead in front of my amazed eyes.

  I’d run from Kirill.

  I’d disappointed him so deeply.

  Against all odds, he’d forgiven me.

  And I knew why he’d given me the gun to have my final vengeance on my father. Kirill had given me not just a weapon, but a piece of power back to me.

  Unbelievably, the tough Bratva enforcer loved me.

  Against all odds, I’d fallen in love with him too.

  There was no question of my returning to my brothers now. I didn’t have to run from Kirill either.

  I lived with him, as an equal of sorts.

  I knew there’d always be rules. He’d have the final say. But his brand of domination brought heat to my face and flutters to my belly.

  There was only one problem now. Since that day, Kirill had treated me carefully. Too carefully. Almost like a curious stranger after all we’d been through together.

  I’d called it when I’d been stripped naked in that ugly little room with the grungy mattress on the floor. I disgusted Kirill now. How could I not? I’d been tarnished.

  I hadn’t fought hard enough.

  He might’ve forgiven me, but he didn’t want me anymore, not after he’d witnessed my complete degradation with his own eyes.

  He even brought in a nurse practitioner to run a full battery of tests on me, my body clearly not clean enough for him.

  I kept my distance as did he, and each day it felt like a bigger wedge was being driven between us. The worst part was I knew a man like Kirill wouldn’t go for long without a woman. If he sought out one of those blonde floozies, I knew I’d crumple into a million pieces.

  I might as well have gone back to my brothers after all.

  One night, I stepped out of the shower and was drying off when I heard a muffled groan in the bedroom.

  The bathroom door was cracked, and I nudged it just a little bit wider.

  Kirill sat on the end of the bed, bolt upright, fists clenched and pressed down on his thighs.

  His eyes held smoldering fire as they coursed over my body.

  I pretended not to see him, turning to the side and bending low as I swept the towel up one leg then the other.

  The mattress suddenly rang out, and he barked harshly, “I’ll be in the other room.”

  The door slammed and his steps stormed off, and I smiled. In the mirror, my eyes danced. And my nipples had already puckered from that little bit of his intensely male attention.

  It became abundantly clear he still wanted me, so what was he playing at?

  I paid more careful attention after that episode. I took it upon myself to tantalize him every chance I got. I flirted subtly. I touched him almost carelessly. I dressed and undressed in front of him, all the while completely aware of the tension zigging through his body and zapping across the air.

  It thrilled me to know I tempted him, yet he still didn’t make a move.

  He watched.

  He was waiting.

  Did he worry I’d be skittish after nearly being raped . . . again?

  He became short-tempered with his brothers.

  His irises sparked jet black and hungry whenever he looked at me.

  His jaw would pulse, his body stiffen.

  Each night we went to bed needing.

  We woke up wanting.

  It finally occurred to me he’d made sure I was safe from any STIs for my own good, not because he thought I was sullied.

  Now, finally, I’d been given a clean bill of health and tonight I aimed to prove to Kirill he shouldn’t wait any longer. He didn’t need to hold off with me. He could take me anywhere and any way he pleased, and I’d relish it.

  He’d already gone down to the club, probably because I was driving him insane.

  I laughed a smoky, thoroughly feminine sound.

  Well, he had me panting for him too. Every simmering moment in his presence made my insides clench and ache with the emptiness only he could fill. Listening to his deep voice sent waves of longing through me. I got wet at the sight of his muscular chest when he took off his shirt, biting back moans when he stripped down to those tight briefs that only accentuated the long girth of his cock.

  It wasn’t like he could hide a dick that big.

  By the time I chose my panties and stepped into the lacey scrap, my body already hummed with pulsing electricity.

 
From the closet, I finally picked out one of those gorgeous dresses Kirill had given me.

  I’d never worn anything like the shimmery, midnight blue dress. The material skimmed sultrily over my body, ending at mid-thigh. The dress was tasteful but possessed a long plunging neckline and a high slit up one leg.

  I slipped into a pair of bone leather stilettoes with bright pink soles.

  I wore my hair loose, the red waves cascading to one side.

  My heart fluttering in my throat, I descended to the nightclub. Music made the walls throb, and dazzling lights spun around the main room.

  I now had my own keycard to the elevator, but I wasn’t to leave the premises without Kirill.

  I sought him out now among the crowd of dancers and drinkers partaking in a night of letting their hair down.

  Spotting Sasha, I swayed over to her.

  When she saw me, she squealed and hugged me. She began complimenting me on the dress, but a dark wicked presence held me captive from several feet away.

  Kirill.

  He snared my full attention. He always would.

  His eyes lit on me, hot as fire licking out to trace shivery fingers over my flesh.

  In a charcoal gray suit with a light blue shirt, his masculine beauty made my fingers itch to touch and discover, to claim him as mine as surely as he had me in the past.

  His devouring gaze robbed me of breath, and he stalked over, his pace measured and prowling.

  My head lifted, and I licked my lips softly.

  He stopped far enough away to allow his gaze to wander thoroughly over me, a wordless sound emitted from his throat.

  Then he asked, “What are you wearing?”

  His husky timbre drew immediate moisture from my sex.

  I slid one of my legs to the side, the revealing slit climbing higher and drawing his eyes right along with it. “It’s one of the dresses you bought me, Kirill.”

  Coming closer, he still didn’t touch me.

  Hooded and heavy-lidded, his gaze burned into me. “I didn’t think it would look like that.”

  “Like what?” I asked with breathless innocence.

  He drew a lone fingertip down the column of my neck, and my pulse hammered. “The dress is beautiful. You, in the dress, are stunning.” His lips descended but only to brush against the corner of my mouth. “And it makes me want to get you naked right now.”