by Jane Henry
She nods, mulling this over with her chin in her hand for a moment, before she turns to me. “Taara, there’s something you should know.”
“Yes?”
“The women of the Bratva stand together. Always. But we do so in a way that strengthens all of us—our entire extended family. We do not seek to change who they are, what they stand for, or what they do. But we can join in solidarity together as one, for those times when we need to withstand the tempest, as it were.”
I swallow hard and don’t reply. I don’t know where she’s going with this.
“So, this is what I’m going to do. I’m going to tell you how to handle Stefan. I’m going to assure him of your innocence. And I’m going to promise you that you aren’t alone.”
Her phone rings, and we both jump. She glances at the screen, muttering, “I’m sorry, that’s my husband.”
She answers the phone.
“Hello?” She listens for a minute, nodding, then smiles. “Very well. Yes, of course. I would be happy to.” She hangs up the phone and smiles at me.
“In the midst of all this, Tomas asked me to make traditional Russian food to bring to Stefan’s former housekeeper. An interesting request, considering the circumstances, but if there’s anything you should know about Stefan, it’s that he takes care of his own.”
I blink. He remembered. Even after I did what I did, he remembered my mother.
Oh, Stefan. What the hell are you doing to me?
I don’t respond to her, because I can’t bring myself to tell her it’s my mother she’ll be cooking for.
“And that’s something else you should know, Taara. Being tied to a man of the Bratva is not for the faint of heart. These men are ruthless, heavy-handed, domineering. They can be brutal. But if you win his heart, he will devote himself to you with a deep, abiding love unlike anything you could ever imagine.”
If I win his heart? Is she out of her mind?
“Show him your loyalty, Taara. Prove your fidelity to the Bratva, and you will not regret it.”
Chapter 5
Stefan
I let Taara go with reluctance. I want her under my watchful eye, but I also know that if she spends some time with Caroline, it will give me the ability to speak freely to my men, more so than if she were present. So instead, I opt for allowing her to be supervised by my men and Caroline. I am curious what Caroline wishes to say to her, but I trust Tomas. And if Tomas trusts her, so do I.
They go to an adjacent room, and I focus on the men before me. Nicolai stands with his arms crossed on his chest, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep and stress. I give him a discreet nod, confirmation that we are together in this. Rafael stands beside him in a similar position, and Tomas sits beside me, one leg crossed over the other. Nicolai and Tomas are like brothers.
I look around at my men, the inner circle of the Bratva that I command. We’ve risen in stature, together with Tomas, as two of the most powerful brotherhoods in all of America, and for good reason. We’ve upheld the code of Bratva life since day one, every decision and action we take with the one purpose in mind: to solidify our connections and rise as masters of the underworld. We have connections in every political sphere, law enforcement, the military, throughout the country with the most influential leaders of our time.
The Bratva itself was founded as a quasi-military operation after the fall of Stalin, when brothers-at-arms united forces. What began as a grassroots movement developed into one of the most powerful organized crime rings in the world, branches extending from mother Russia to America. As one of the most experienced members of the Bratva, I’ve seen my brothers both rise and fall. There are those committed to advancing their own purposes, bent on gaining power, prestige, and money, that eventually succumb to the temptations that press in on all sides when putting their own selfish needs and desires above others. Then there are others—like Tomas, and Demyan in Moscow, committed to strengthening the brotherhood. Fiercely loyal, they unite with others dedicated to that task. These are the brotherhoods that thrive.
Tomas and Nicolai are two such men. However, this is my son whose safety is at risk, the man whose very life can be destroyed by the woman in the other room. It’s essential I tell my side of the story while bearing this in mind, and also balancing the need for transparency with the authority I wield as pakhan. It’s a double-edge sword.
I’m grateful Tomas is here. He had come just to pay a visit, but his timing works in my favor. I’ve consulted him about what happened last night, and he will help inform my men today. But first, a minor order of business.
“There’s an older woman under my care in a nursing facility,” I tell Tomas. “She misses traditional Russian food. Do you think Caroline would mind helping us with that?”
“Certainly,” he says. “No one cooks the food from our homeland like my wife,” he says with pride.
“Thank you, I’ll give you the details to pass on to Caroline.”
“Of course,” Tomas says with a nod. Tomas is younger than I am by a good deal, and it was I who helped facilitate his marriage to Caroline. He is like a son to me and gives me the same loyalty and devotion Nicolai does. If I ask a favor, he will always try to honor it.
“Thank you,” I tell him. “I’ve heard recently that she dislikes the food where she is. Though it’s only a trivial complaint, I promised I would ask Caroline to prepare some traditional Russian foods for her.”
Nicolai watches me curiously while Tomas calls Caroline. Nicolai knows the only former housekeeper we had on staff is Taara’s mother. I ignore his look. Just because Taara is now under our surveillance doesn’t negate my end of the bargain. And perhaps this small gesture will make Taara more compliant.
“We aren’t here long, but Caroline would be happy to,” Tomas says. “All set. Sounds like the girls are getting along fine, too.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
I turn to face the room. “Now I’d like to take a moment to address you all. Thank you for coming here despite this early hour. It was imperative for me to relay the events of last night without you hearing them from a secondary party, which is why I called you today.”
My men sit at attention, stern and formidable, their flinty gazes and rigid posture reminiscent of Russian military, and for good reason. The huge majority, with the few exceptions we’ve recruited in America, have served our home country.
“Last night, we were told that one of the men that betrayed Marissa Kosolov was still alive.” A low murmur of disbelief goes up, but none of them speak. They all know Marissa well, and they know her story, how she was sold into slavery by her father, a former friend of mine. How my own son was left for dead and fought his way back to claim Marissa as his own. How he and I systematically sought revenge for every single goddamn man who betrayed us by joining with Myron in Marissa’s abduction.
“As you’ll recall, Myron’s men were the ones that ordered my son killed. Some of them even put their hands on him.” I can’t keep the fury out of my voice even now, many years later.
Nicolai speaks up. “Not to mention, they orchestrated the abduction and abuse of my wife.”
The air crackles with electric energy. In Bratva life, there is no betrayal deeper, no treachery more worthy of swift and certain punishment.
“I thought they’d all been killed,” one of my men in the back asks. “No?”
“We thought the same,” I explain. “But we were wrong. Unfortunately, this man decided to attack Marissa, and he spoke of his loyalty to her father. Fortunately, Nicolai was nearby, and prevented any further injury to his wife.”
To my daughter-in-law. I’m fucking glad the man who attacked her lies in a grave.
“Tell me you killed him,” someone from the back says, and the whole room murmurs its approval of this sentiment.
“We did,” Nicolai says. “Last night, he was executed in the interrogation room. Rafael and I disposed of his body.”
“To which brotherhood did he belong?” My men are righ
tfully angry at this breach, and it pleases me they are as eager to out those who pose a threat against Marissa and Nicolai as I am.
Tomas raises a hand. “I am sorry to say, I’ve looked at footage. He was a member of my group. We had no idea whatsoever that he was still loyal to Myron and posed a threat in any way to Marissa or Nicolai. We thought, as did all of you, that those involved with Marissa’s abduction had already been rid of.”
Nicolai nods. He knows Tomas well, and believes that if Tomas knew of this brother’s betrayal, he would have pulled the trigger himself.
I inhale. And now I need to tell them the other part of the story, why Taara is now in my possession. I’m not looking forward to their response.
“But there’s a complication, and I want full disclosure with all of you,” I say to the group. “A woman who works for me, Taara Khan, witnessed the execution.”
Several around us curse. “And she, too, has paid the ultimate price?” I don’t see who asked the question. Someone at the back.
“She’s been taken prisoner by me for surveillance,” I say. “I am not convinced Taara is a threat to any of us.”
No one responds. The silence in the room is nearly deafening. Even Nicolai doesn’t meet my eyes.
“Sir, she can pose a threat to your son,” Simon, one of my brodyaga says. “Are you sure that’s the best way to handle it?”
“No,” I say. “I’m not sure. I’m keeping an eye on her for now. She’s been loyal to me her entire life.” I don’t tell them that she’s young, and I’ve known her since she was a child. I’m not sure why I feel such a strong need to protect her. My concern should be for my son above all. “And if it comes down to ending her life for the good of the Bratva, I will not hesitate.”
“But what if it’s too late?” Brogdan, one of the most dedicated members of my brotherhood, asks. He’s tall and formidable, one of our strike force.
“I will not allow it to come to that.”
Again, silence. I can feel their judgment, though. They do not believe I’ve made the correct choice, and their judgment rankles.
“I did what I thought best,” I say, my temper rising. “I will not kill an innocent girl who’s been loyal to me for so long so easily.”
Nicolai uncrosses his arm and steps in front of me, glaring at everyone in front of us. “And need I remind you that my father is pakhan. He does not ask for anyone’s permission to make his choices. My father has led us unselfishly, and all of you owe him not only your allegiance but your obedience.” Silence descends on the room at his stern lecture. “And if anyone has the right to question his judgment, it would be me. But I do not. I have nothing but complicit faith in the decisions he makes.”
“As do I,” Rafael says, coming to stand next to Nicolai.
“And I.” Tomas gets to his feet.
“And I.” One by one, my brothers stand before me, the only sounds in the room one man after another getting to his feet. I swallow hard. Though I’m honored by Nicolai’s steadfast defense of me, the weight of responsibility to make the right decision weighs heavily.
“I will not fail you, brothers. You have my word. I will keep Taara under my care and ensure she threatens none of us. And now that we’ve brought you up to date, it’s imperative we discuss the next order of business.” Tomas looks to me, and I nod, giving him permission to tell them what he needs to. He warned me before we began that he had more information that would impact me, and we decided it best he save time and tell me in front of all of us. I have nothing to hide from my brothers.
“As I said earlier, the man who betrayed Stefan and Nicolai belonged to the Boston Bratva. But it’s come to my attention that his betrayal went a lot deeper than his connections with Myron.”
We all listen in silence.
“He has heavy ties in Russia. Not with the sister group some of you know well, the group led by Demyan Federov, but with the rival group.”
The skin on the back of my neck prickles with awareness. Though there are numerous Russian Bratva groups, we deal with the two most prominent often. One is run by Demyan, a good man Nicolai and Rafael know well, as they’ve all worked together at one time or another. I’ve met him a few times when he’s visited America and found him not only to be hard-working, but a man of integrity. Since they are our sister group, we deal with them frequently and trust them.
But the second group, the Thieves, is rival to the Moscow contingent, and responsible for great devastation. Along with other members of American Bratva, the Thieves are responsible for the largest human trafficking ring in America, and some of our members, as well as some of our members’ wives, have had dealings with them. They’re known for being underhanded, vicious, and cruel, and my dislike for the group is far more personal.
The Thieves are responsible for the death of my Amaliya.
I watch Rafael visibly bristle as well. It is because of the Thieves that Rafael and his wife Laina, once known as Olena in another place and time, relocated to our group in America. Amaliya was Olena’s mother.
“The Thieves?” I ask Tomas.
“Fucking Thieves,” Rafael mutters, clenching his fists.
“The very same,” Tomas says to me, before returning to address the group again. “As you know, when Nicolai joined the Boston group with dual enrollment, I made a promise our group would no longer have any dealings with the trafficking rings. I’ve adhered to that promise. But many of you also know that the Thieves have not. Trafficking still comprises the majority of their business. The biggest concern is that this one insidious traitor is only representative of a larger group,” Tomas says. “Before his demise, he promised this group would see an uprising. That we didn’t know how deeply the forces against us ran.”
A low murmur ripples through the group. The respectable members of the Bratva know that we aren’t brother against brother but united in an unbreakable bond, tied to one another by a code of conduct.
“How does this affect us?” one of my men asks. It’s a good question. The men all look to Tomas, but it is Nicolai who speaks next.
“Last night, during the interrogation, it came to light that the Thieves intend on taking over as American Bratva. They want to eliminate our group. This much we can surmise from what our interrogation revealed.”
“Taking over?” Simon asks. “Eliminating? How?”
Nicolai shakes his head. “We aren’t sure, since those who run the group and ultimately make the decisions clearly keep their agenda hidden, but it’s obvious to us that at the very least, they intend on increasing the volume of trafficking they do, and once their trade gains power, of potentially wiping out every rival Bratva group in America.”
We sit in silence for a minute. This type of insidious uprising among fellow Bratva is unheard of, but given the downward spiral of some of the leadership in recent years, it doesn’t surprise me. Myron’s betrayal of his daughter was, sadly, only one of many such despicable actions.
Tomas speaks next. “My sources tell me the Thieves plan on relying heavily on Afghani refugees and immigrants. The women are beautiful, and with few connections, difficult to trace.”
I imagine Taara, my beautiful prisoner, sold to one of the men at auction, and my fists clench by my sides.
“So, what will we do?” someone asks. “We have to stand against them, even if it means we go to war.”
But my mind is already turning over the possibilities. I stroke my chin. As pakhan, I am called to make sacrifices. I have, over and over again, but this time… as they continue to talk, my plan grows, until I finally speak up to get their attention.
“I have an idea,” I say, aware of how Nicolai’s eyes follow me. “You say the plan comes from upper leadership, Tomas?”
Tomas nods. “My sources say that those lower in rank know of no plans, and my investigations confirm this. Most of the Bratva men prefer we remain either neutral or allies.”
“Then if we found a way to out those who are plotting to overtake us, we stop the ro
ot of the problem before it gains traction, yes?”
Tomas nods. Nicolai’s eyes narrow on me. He’s already suspecting something risky, and he isn’t wrong.
“Yes,” Tomas says.
The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced this is the correct choice of action. If my plan goes off without a hitch, Taara will have a chance to prove her loyalty to me, and ultimately redeem herself, and I will be able to put an end to the dangers that threaten my brothers.
“Tomas. Nicolai. You will have lunch with me, and we will discuss what I have in mind. Afterward, we will reconvene to discuss.” I nod to Tomas. “Bring Taara and Caroline to me.”
Chapter 6
Taara
“Stefan wishes to see you.” One of the men watching over us puts his phone away after answering it, addressing both me and Caroline. It almost felt normal there for a little while, the two of us visiting like sisters. I’m surprised to see it’s been several hours, and it’s now nearly early afternoon. I almost forgot I was prisoner to Stefan.
I’ve never had a sister, or a sibling of any kind, and I’ve been turning over what Caroline said to me.
The women of the Bratva stand together.
“Oh?” Caroline asks. She finishes the remainder of the tea in her cup before placing it on a saucer, clearly in no rush. I do the same, then follow her lead when she gets to her feet. “Does he wish to see both of us?”
The guy, clean-shaven and young, nods. He looks like they recruited him straight out of high school. “Both of you.”
Caroline smiles at me. “Very well then. Let’s go.”
I grit my teeth when the guards flank either side of me, though they allow Caroline to walk unencumbered.
“Am I really this much of a threat I need these guys watching me?” I say, not bothering to temper my voice. “Honestly, Caroline, his arm’s as big as my thigh. I couldn’t possibly hurt anyone. I can barely open a jar of pickles without asking Stefan for help.”
Caroline smiles sadly. “It isn’t your physical threat they wish to prevent, Taara.”