Expose' (Born Bratva Book 3)

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Expose' (Born Bratva Book 3) Page 4

by Steele, Suzanne


  Logan

  The knock on the door is insistent and loud enough to cut through the music blasting in my headphones while I’m studying. I toss the headphones on my bed and reach for my baggy sweatshirt to throw on over my old, threadbare camisole and boy shorts, then decide against it and head to the door. It’s probably just Gilbert anyway, coming by to study or to try to convince me to take that job at the gambling house – and, really, the boy couldn’t care less about my boobs so modesty’s wasted on him.

  I open the door with my hand on my hip and a sassy comment on my lips, only to freeze in place as I look into the gleaming black eyes that have haunted me since last night. And from the way those eyes are looking me up and down, stopping to shamelessly linger on my breasts, I probably should have put on that sweatshirt. Or at least a bra. Shit.

  I gulp and try to find my voice but all that comes out is a croaked, “Kodiak, what -- what are you doing here?”

  With a smirk, he reluctantly looks away from my now peaked nipples. He stares at me dispassionately, tilting his head to the side to speak to his bodyguard. “Give us a minute, Lukyan.” The hulking brute of a man who is Kodiak’s shadow steps back a few paces and assumes his post outside my door. Just great, that won’t be completely impossible to explain to anyone…

  Kodiak steps inside and closes the door. He prowls toward me, his jaw ticking slightly as he takes in my barely there attire. The closer he gets, I’m forced to back up until the back of my knees hit the bed and I have to sit down. I lean back awkwardly as he bends at the waist and places his hands on either side of me on the bed, caging me in. His unblinking gaze has my heart is pounding so hard that I wonder if he can hear it from where he’s looming over me. His nostrils flare and his lips are set in a grim line as he stares down at me. He looks pissed. I hope to God he hasn’t figured out the real reason behind my visit to that house last night.

  “Let’s keep it real, Logan.”

  Oh shit. I close my eyes, dreading what’s surely coming next.

  “We both know you know who my family is,” he whispers silkily. “You must be an A-student in that Investigative Journalism class if you were able to find out about my father’s gambling house. That information is strictly on a need-to-know basis. And you don’t need to know.” He cocks his head to the side and a sadistic smile crosses his face as he strokes the knuckles of one hand down my cheek. “Mmm… soft,” he murmurs absently, almost as if he doesn’t realize he said it out loud.

  “Now, you’re going to be a good girl and tell me how you got that information.” He abruptly fists a handful of my hair at the nape of my neck, tugging on it just hard enough to let me know that he is well aware of what he’s saying. “If I was a betting man, I’d say it was that little hacker friend of yours.”

  My eyes widen in shock and he slowly nods his head, purring, “Baby, you really need to work on your poker face. You’re gonna have to do better than that in the Black Jack pit – ah, ah, now, now…” he says, interrupting me when I try to argue. He tightens his grip on my hair to the point of pain and presses the index finger of his other hand over my lips. His words are slow and deliberate, as if he’s speaking to a small child, “You see, now I have to babysit both of you. And it’s not that I won’t enjoy keeping a very, very close eye on you, Logan, because I was already considering doing just that,” he says softly, his eyes straying once again to my stubbornly hard nipples as he removes his finger from my lips to slide his knuckles up and down along the side of my breast, “but this does move my original timeline up rather…drastically.”

  I twist my head away and start talking, even though my suddenly shallow breathing makes it difficult. “Look, I don’t know anything about you or your family. Let’s just forget about last night and move on. And I can’t believe you’re spying on me! I’m nobody! I was looking for a job, that’s all. I have no intention of working there anyway so you never have to see me again. See? Problem solved.” I summon what little bravado I can muster to arch an eyebrow sarcastically. Fake it ‘til you make it, right?

  He slowly shakes his head while biting his bottom lip. “No, baby. You see, first of all, I don’t like that. Not seeing you doesn’t work for me at all. And second…You’re. Lying. To. Me. And even if you weren’t – and we both know you are -- it’s not that simple.” I gasp when he tweaks my nipple hard enough to make my eyes water, and his eyes light up at the sound. Just as quickly, he stands and pulls a rickety chair out from my tiny desk, spins it around and straddles it, resting his forearms along the back. I indignantly press my palm over my nipple, which still stings. He stares at my hand as he continues, “Unfortunately for you, my father has become aware of your interest and wants me to keep an eye on you. You crossed a line when you came to the gambling house last night—an underground gambling house, I might add.”

  He glares at me coldly, as if daring me to argue with him. When he’s satisfied that I’m at a loss for words, he continues with a smug smile. “Let’s start our time together with a little fun, shall we? You’ll even get to play dress up again like you did last night.” He stands and strolls over to where I sit on the edge of the bed. “Ease up on the makeup, though. You don’t need that shit.” Again his knuckles stroke up and down my cheek. “A driver will be here at eight to pick you and your little hacker friend up. Don’t keep me waiting,” he says as he walks to the door. He looks over his shoulder at me as he opens the door, his tone harsh, “And don’t even think about not showing up because I will hunt your delectable little ass down. Trust me, you’ll wish I hadn’t. You sealed your fate when you walked into my gambling house, little one.”

  With one last heated glance my way, he exhales harshly then closes the door behind him. I hear two sets of footsteps move down the hall. Oh, this is not good. Shit, shit, shit! What the hell was I thinking?

  It never crossed my mind that Kodiak would look into my background. He knows I’m studying journalism, but he didn’t say anything about the expose’ so maybe I’m worrying too much about that. But I sorely underestimated my opponent; an opponent I don’t have the resources to protect myself from. Looks like my plan of not going back isn’t an option. It’s too late to undo what I’ve done.

  Chapter Seven

  Kodiak

  The familiar blue and gold teacup and saucer on my father’s desk aren’t the only things that rattle as he slams his fist down in anger—my insides do, too.

  “A fucking journalist?! Sniffing around, trying to get Intel on my family? And you’re planning to bring her tonight. A journalist. In. My. Fucking. House.” His voice is deceptively calm as he pins me with those icy blue eyes. In moments of anger, his eyes become an almost molten silver, as they are now. So I tread carefully as I explain what I know about Logan. I don’t trust her either, but I need his backing to handle this the way I want to.

  “Dad, her father’s a gambler and a real piece of shit, but he taught her to count cards. Apparently, she’s the real deal. It’s the only thing she knows how to do. She’s studying the journalism thing; I’m not sure how serious she is about it. That’s another reason I agree we should watch her carefully. It’s not like she’s a real reporter though -- not yet, anyway.”

  My father leans forward slowly, his lips curled in a snarl. “I don’t like it. My gut tells me there’s more to that girl than what she’s telling you and my instincts are never wrong. But, frankly, I find that I am more than a little troubled by yours.”

  He knows he has struck a blow with those words. He leans back in his chair, obviously still seething but nonetheless holding himself in absolute control as he contemplates his next remarks. “But,” he says smoothly, “since you think I’m overreacting to the fact that a card counting journalist came into my fucking establishment last night, I will expect more than the usual surveillance from you. You can damn well babysit her. So bring her tonight, Kodiak, but let me remind you of what you already know…If I find that she intends to undermine Bratva in any way, I will not hesitate to kill
her.” The glacial stare that has always filled me with dread is directed right at me. “You will, of course, exercise great caution with this outsider. Do we have an understanding, boy?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Get the fuck out of here and start stalking.”

  As I head to the door, grateful to be out from under his cold gaze, his voice stops me in my tracks. “One more thing, Kodiak…”

  Oh, shit.

  “As you know, Novak and Katrina are coming in tonight. It’s an important event for many reasons. Go get the girl and take her shopping. I won’t have a street urchin wandering around my house.”

  “Yes, sir.” I breathe a sigh of relief for a couple of reasons. Now babysitting Logan is a command performance, so I can proceed without worrying about warring with any internal shit. And this gives me a valid reason to take my ass right back over to that university and get her. This might not be so bad after all. One thing I did fail to tell my father is that I’ll be babysitting hacker boy too. A man with my father’s temperament isn’t someone you want to piss off. I’ll let him know tonight, right after I threaten Gilbert with certain death if he ever breathes a word about the Bratva to anyone.

  Lukyan joins me as I stride briskly out to the waiting car. “You okay, boss?”

  I roll my eyes but don’t remind him of his usual faux pas. That’s my dad... “I’m fine. We’re heading back over to the university.”

  “Why, boss?”

  “Lukyan, we’re going shopping.”

  Chapter Eight

  Logan

  “Well, isn’t this just fucking cozy?”

  I close my eyes when I hear Kodiak’s sarcastic question from the doorway of my dorm room. Gilbert, on the other hand, jumps up off the bed like he’s been shot out of a cannon – Kodiak doesn’t sound at all friendly and Gilbert’s old habits are hard to break. He stands by my desk, gulping huge breaths and nervously pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. I reach out to touch his arm reassuringly and make a mental note to start locking my door, whether I’m here or not. Kodiak is leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest and smirking like he owns the place. Hell, he’s a Glazov, so maybe he does. He glares at Gilbert and me like he just caught us in bed together. Didn’t you just leave an hour ago?

  “What are you doing here, Kodiak?” I ask impatiently. Gilbert looks at me inquisitively and I know I’ll have some explaining to do later. But for now, I need to find out what Kodiak wants and how to make him go away. The less contact with him, the better. But Kodiak has other plans.

  “So I’m curious, Logan. Are you fucking this guy?”

  Gilbert makes a guttural choking noise, then begins to cough violently, holding on to the back of my chair for support. I pat his back lightly while he catches his breath, then turn my attention back to the intruder in our midst. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. Gilbert is my dearest friend,” I snap.

  “Not my business? Oh, I beg to differ.” He saunters over to me and toys with a strand of my hair. “You see, my dad wants me to keep an eye on you, so that makes it – and you -- very much my business.”

  The cocky smile he’s giving me right now isn’t reassuring me.

  “My dad is wondering how in the world you just happened to show up at his place of business.” He directs his attention to Gilbert, who is standing behind me with his back stick straight and his eyes wide with terror. “You and I both know hacker boy here gave you the low down on the gambling house, but I haven’t mentioned that to my father. We’re still getting acquainted, so I don’t think it’s the right time. Not just yet. Now, we have no secrets, he and I, but I think it would be in your best interests that I tell him in my own time. That depends on how cooperative you are, of course. He’s already pretty pissed that a card counting journalist has been sniffing around. This really does pose a bit of a problem, though, because now I have to babysit Dorkoff here, too.”

  I hear the unmistakable sound of a whimper from behind me. I really need to catch Gilbert up on what’s going on but there’s no time. Now that I’m on the Bratva’s radar, I need to go along with whatever this asshole has planned for us. Kodiak straightens and crosses the room to stand in front of me. “We have a party to go to tonight, so chop, chop, boys and girls. It’s time to go shopping. It’s a formal affair and if I had to guess, neither of you has the wardrobe to fit in with all the crazy sons of bitches who will be there tonight.”

  “You are such an ass, Kodiak,” I say indignantly. “I can’t tell you how it puts my mind at ease knowing that I’ll be attending a formal party with people who would just as soon kill me as look at me!”

  “You have no idea.”

  I yank my jacket off the back of my chair and jerk Gilbert up by his arm and hiss in his ear, “Still think I should take that job?”

  “Glad to know I have your vote of confidence, Gilbert,” Kodiak says smugly. The irritation I’m feeling turns to anger when Gilbert smiles that goofy smile he has and answers Kodiak.

  “Oh yeah, you do, Mr. Glazov.”

  “That’s my dad, Gilbert. Call me Kodiak.”

  Gilbert, who seems to be intoxicated by the fact that he’s been accepted by one of the cool kids, is beaming, which only heats my anger to borderline rage.

  Kodiak pulls me into his side and leans down to whisper in my ear, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

  Kodiak is everything I hate—a sarcastic, alpha asshole. But two can play this game. If he’s going to force me to attend a formal Bratva soiree, he can damn well pay for the wardrobe. I don’t have the means or the resources to obtain the kind of clothes those women were wearing last night and he knows it. I can only hope I haven’t gotten in over my head. If there’s this much drama and he doesn’t even know about the article for the writing competition, I’m going to have to be incredibly discreet.

  I feel nauseated as curiosity killed the cat jumps to the forefront of my mind. What was it Kodiak said last night? You really need to work on your poker face, Logan. I guess it’s time to start doing just that.

  Kodiak

  My breath hitches when she steps out from behind the folding screen in the private dressing room. The simple satin gown flows over her body like melted butter. I get up like a man in a trance and walk slowly over to her, circling her like she’s prey.

  “You. Are. So. Fucking. Beautiful.” My cock is not in the habit of getting hard at the sight of a fully clothed woman, but this right here, this is different…so very different. I pull her back against me with a hand pressed across her abdomen as I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. My lips brush the shell of her ear as I tell her how it’s going to be from now on. “Mmmm, I want you. I’ve decided you’re mine, Logan, and I keep close tabs on what’s mine. I’ll be watching you even when you don’t think I’m around. God help you if you go out with any of the jocks at that school you go to.” I press an open-mouthed kiss along the side of her neck, and grin when I feel her shiver. My fingertips slide along her baby-soft inner arm and up over her shoulder until I clasp my hand around her neck, squeezing just enough to get her attention. “No one touches this silky skin but me, do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  “Not happening, Kodiak,” she replies breathlessly. “I’m not going to be another notch on your bedpost.”

  I chuckle and nuzzle her neck. “This isn’t just about me fucking you, it’s about me protecting you.” My voice loses all playfulness as I straighten, release her neck and turn her around to face me. “You don’t have a choice here, Logan. I’ve been given the job to guard you, to watch over you, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” I pull back to look at the dress she’s wearing. “Hmm, that dress is missing something.”

  “What, it doesn’t look good? But you just said it looks good.”

  “It needs a statement piece,” I say as I trace a fingertip down the plunging neckline just to see how she reacts. Her eyes widen at the unexpected, rather intimate skin-on-skin contact. I grin wh
en she tries and fails to act nonchalant about the whole thing. “Go put on the jeans and the cream muslin top, the one with the gold around the edges -- and the Jimmy Choos. Then we’ll go. We need to check on your little friend--”

  “What the hell do you know about fashion?” she interrupts skeptically.

  “When you live in my world, perception truly is reality. Image is everything.”

  “Oh,” she scoffs, hands on her hips. “The whole organized crime thing?”

  She needs to respect the seriousness of what I’m about to say. I place my hands on her shoulders and lean down to look intently into her eyes. “I have to know I can trust you. Other than showing up at the gambling house the other night like a sexy Little Red Riding Hood in a sea of Russian wolves, you haven’t done anything yet to give me a reason not to. But if you are up to something,” I hiss as her throat muscles convulse in a gulp, “trust me, I’ll know soon enough. Either way, understand this -- you don’t breathe a word about anything you see or hear. Nothing. Even if it seems trivial or harmless. You will respect the Bratva code of silence…or you will die by it,” I murmur as I raise my hand to once again clasp her neck. I savor the hectic thrum of her pulse beneath all that silky skin as I slowly tighten my grip…just so. “And, sadly, so would I.”

  “No! Your father would never allow it,” she gasps. So very naïve is my little one.

  “That is where you are wrong, Logan. Glazov is Bratva. They are one and the same. In matters of justice…or vengeance…the Pakhan has no wife, no child, only Bratva. But if you have nothing to hide, then there is nothing to fear. So, relax,” I drawl, slowly releasing my grip on her neck. “Now, to answer your question…Yeah, the whole organized crime thing—clothes matter.”

 

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