Roksana gives the slightest nod and Oleg sits the man in a chair and walks behind him. Before the guy even knows what’s happening, Oleg grabs the top of his head with one hand and his chin with the other and, with masterful precision, snaps the man’s neck. Though he isn’t bulked up like the rest of the men who work for Glazov, he more than makes up for it with his…expertise and efficiency.
Oleg’s eyes stay fixed on the lifeless form for a moment until he slowly looks up at Roksana. His eyes go soft and I swear I hear her purr. These two are clearly in the business of killing together and they feed off of each other’s darkness.
Roksana abruptly focuses her attention on a darkened corner of the room where a massive shadow looms next to a door I hadn’t noticed until now. Her eyes narrow and she seems to be waiting for something. A sign from above, maybe? In the next instant she must get the signal she’s waiting for because a small smile touches her lips and she nods almost imperceptibly, then returns her attention to the matter at hand.
“Back to you.” With no warning Roksana pushes the gun in Becky’s mouth before she has the opportunity to clench her teeth, and pulls the trigger. Brain matter explodes from the back of her head. How in the hell did the chamber fall in line with that one bullet? She points the gun at the man who was caught cheating and shoots him between the eyes. “I lied. There was more than one bullet in the chamber.”
She directs her attention toward Natasha and smiles at her friend. Natasha, who entered the room unnoticed, now waits for instructions, much like a maid who would like to know if you want the bed linens turned down. “You know what to do, Tasha. We’ll see you back at the house.”
Natasha looks more like a sexy soccer mom than a cleaner. Her demeanor is nonchalant as she nods at Roksana and gets to work. To think she went through years of forensic training to master the ability to clean up Glazov’s messes is just another small detail that intrigues me about this family. They work together like a well-oiled machine, with a rhythm all their own. A dance of danger choreographed by the Pakhan and orchestrated perfectly by those who work for him. The streets will know—their enemies will know—even local law enforcement may know, but Natasha will ensure that there will be no proof linking Bratva to the deaths of three people inside these walls. There will only be whispers in darkened alleys, warnings to never cross Alexander Glazov.
The ride home is spent in silence. I saw things tonight I never would have imagined I’d ever be part of. The first hints of sunrise suggest the promise of a new day, with new secrets to keep. I hope Kodiak isn’t awake when I get home or I’m going to be the one answering a lot of questions.
Chapter Thirty Five
Logan
“I cannot believe that man.” I look in Roksana’s direction while she folds a t-shirt, placing it in the drawer designated for casual tops. Even though I only took a quarter of the closet, I will never fill the huge space Kodiak allotted to me. “What did he do, have someone go to the dorm and pick up all my things?”
“That’s exactly what he did,” she says with a grin, then gets serious. “You understand now that it’s for your safety. You’ve seen a lot in your short time here. In our world, if you witness us at work, you become part of the crime. As far as authorities are concerned you’re as guilty as I am, even though I pulled the trigger.”
I study her face. Is she threatening me? She’s unreadable. I truly can’t tell. It’s hard to believe a woman who is so stunningly beautiful can be so dangerous, so ruthless. I decide to press the issue.
I take a moment to stop what I’m doing and look at her until she gives me her undivided attention. “I hope you know I have no intention of talking to anyone about the things I’ve seen. I’m not the kind of person who betrays trust.”
The look on her face is one void of emotion when she speaks. “I trust my brother, and I trust in his ability to keep this family safe. He sees something in you or you wouldn’t be here. It isn’t you I’m concerned about; it’s the outsiders and your inexperience interacting with them. You’re new to this game, Logan. We’re not watching you because we don’t trust you. If we didn’t trust you, you’d be dead by now. We’re watching you because we do trust you. But until you learn how the authorities operate, we’ll keep a close eye on you, as much for you as for us. Even after you become a seasoned part of Bratva, we’ll be looking out for you.”
“Yes, we will.”
We both look up to see Kodiak standing in the closet doorway. “Would you stop that stalking thing you do?” I tease him.
“Never going to happen. It’s in my genes.”
“You can say that again. Nobody believes in a good stalk like Daddy does, and he trained all of us in the art of it.” Judging by the look on Roksana’s face as she goes into the description of why stalking is a necessity, she enjoys that part of her job. She talks about violence and death like other people talk about little warm puppies. “There’s nothing like seeing the terror in an enemy’s eyes when they look up and see the person about to snuff their life out. It’s exhilarating, to say the least.”
I tease her, bringing up Oleg, the man who seems to be smitten with her. “Kodiak, it seems your sister has a penchant for danger. She mercilessly taunts her bodyguard, Oleg.”
“They’ve had a thing for each other for years. One of these days that crazy mother fucker is going to call her out on her relentless flirting. Maybe he’ll make an honest woman of her. Or they’ll finally give in and fuck each other to death.”
“Yeah, Daddy would love nothing more than to have all of his children married off so we can start on the next generation of Bratva. On another note, Kodiak, has anyone asked about Becky at the gambling house?”
“No. You of all people should know nobody asks questions. To put your mind at ease, I just told everyone she couldn’t stand the heartbreak of seeing Logan and me together day in and day out. It was just too much for her.”
“Leave it to you to be so humble about it, brother, dear.”
“Hey, it’s got nothing to do with my ego. It just made sense with all the female drama going on.”
Roksana gets up off the floor, “And that’s my cue to leave. Okay, you two, dinner’s in an hour. Daddy wants everyone at the dinner table tonight.” She turns, looking at me. “You really should feel like part of the family now. Sitting at the dinner table around here is a huge deal.” She smiles as she shuts the door behind her, and I hear her footsteps as she returns to her suite of rooms down the hall.
Kodiak slides his arms around me from behind and rests his chin on my shoulder. He knows me so well, can tell that I’ve got something on my mind. “What is it?” he asks softly. “Is it all too much?”
I lean into him and sigh, turning my face to the side to nuzzle his neck. “No, it’s not too much, I just feel like there’s so much I don’t understand. You remember more about the fire than you let on with Roksana, don’t you?”
He stiffens and I know I’ve gone too far, pushed too hard. “It’s not something I talk about. What you heard before is as much as I’ve ever told anyone, Logan.”
I take his hand and lead him over to the bed and gesture for him to sit. I curl up in his lap and wait. He takes a deep breath, then silence. “It’s okay, Kodiak. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. Forget I said anything. We’ve got a lifetime to get to know each other’s secrets.”
He just rubs my back, caressing and kneading my muscles. I feel my bones melt away and am starting to doze off when his voice breaks the silence and his words jolt me awake. I shift slightly in his arms, just enough to look up at him.
“I was five. It was always just my father and me. His name was Leonardo Bianchi.” He smiles a sad smile when he speaks his father’s name, but I don’t move a muscle, not wanting to distract him from telling his story. His eyes become glassy and unfocused as he revisits the events that set him on the path he travels now. “He was Glazov’s tailor. Did you know I come from a long line of Italian tailors?”
“No. That
’s something to be very proud of.”
He smiles at me briefly before continuing, “Yes, that is what Glazov has told me many times. Glazov -- he would only have the best tailor, of course. Only the best of everything. In time they became friends, good friends -- or as close a friend as the Pakhan is capable of having.
“We lived in an apartment above the shop. When my father started getting harassed by a local gang who wanted protection money, he asked his friend for help. He knew there was no one more powerful than Glazov, no force more deadly than Bratva. Glazov arranged for one of his personal guards, Yafon, to watch the place at night until the situation could be dealt with and the threat removed. The next night Glazov came along because Bianchi had invited him to join us for dinner. They had planned to discuss the situation in detail later after I was in bed.
“It’s funny what you remember – I remember him cooking at the stove that night and telling me that Glazov would always protect me. But when they arrived that night, the house was already nearly engulfed in flames. A Molotov cocktail had been thrown through a downstairs window. The flames had us trapped upstairs.
“Glazov ran into the house when other men would have run away. My father was already dead.” I gasp and cover my mouth as tears roll in a steady stream down my cheeks, but he just keeps talking in a flat voice.
“Glazov found his tailor, my father, in an upstairs bedroom. The flames were everywhere, it seemed, and he nearly ran back out. But he remembered the boy. He found me hiding in the closet where my father had put me when he heard the window shatter. I knew my father had to be dead because nothing but death would have kept him from me.
“I was terrified, of course, and the smoke was making it hard to breathe. There I was, huddled in a corner of the closet, weeping for my dead father as I prayed the Rosary, certain that death was coming for me as well. But the closet door opened, and…” he stops, his facial muscles clenching in his effort to maintain his composure. I shift slightly to wrap my arms tight around his waist, and he presses a kiss to the top of my head.
After a deep breath, he murmurs softly, “Glazov stood there like an archangel as the fires of hell raged behind him. He carried me out, making sure to cover me with his coat, as much for the smoke and flames as to shield me from the sight of my father’s body. The house folded in on itself as we crossed the threshold. He threw me into Yafon’s arms and collapsed in the front yard.” He pauses and shakes his head before looking over at me. His eyes soften when he sees my tears.
“What happened to you then?” I ask as I try to stifle the sobs that threaten to overtake me. “Where did you go?”
A small smile crosses his face as he remembers. “Glazov took me home that night and presented me to his family as his son. He told his wife that he would honor his friend by raising me as his own. It was never questioned by anyone, not once. There we stood in the entryway of this very house, covered in soot, our clothes ripped and torn. A father and his son.”
And in that moment, I know the reason for the fear and panic I would see in his eyes when he couldn’t find me or when he thought I was going to run. I wrap my arms around him and weep.
Logan
We enter the dining room where everyone is standing around the large table. Kodiak studies me as I look at the group of people attending. Novak and his wife are there. Oleg is standing by Roksana. Glazov and Kathleen, Nikita and Natasha, even Lukyan is there. All the people who are considered family, the Glazov inner circle, are standing around this table. I have formed a bond with each and every one of them in one form or another.
Kodiak wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me in close to his side. “You’re family now. I told you, I always get what I want.”
“I hope you don’t get bored with me now that the chase is over.”
“I have it on good authority that this is only the beginning. You have much to learn, and I will teach you.” He exchanges a look with his father before adding, “I will always be watching you, my little kotyonok.”
Kodiak’s father laughs approvingly from where he stands at the head of the table. “Indeed, it is not the Glazov way to become bored with our women.” Though he’s joking, it brings a smile to my face for two reasons: Kodiak won’t become bored and Glazov is actually teasing me. The heated, almost devious, look he gives Kathleen is my proof that he speaks the truth.
Before we take our seats, Glazov lifts his glass and gives a toast. “To family, to health, and to prosperity. Welcome, Logan, you’re part of us now, just as we are part of you.”
“To family,” everyone repeats, raising their glasses high. I look around the table at the people who are the only family I’ve ever known. Everything I’ve ever wanted, I have now. They may not be everyone’s idea of the perfect family, but they are mine and I will treasure them always.
Epilogue
“Are you ready?” Kodiak asks. “I won’t lie to you, it’s gonna hurt.”
“Yeah, I know. Like you didn’t have anything to do with the decision.”
“Of course I did, I’ll be in on every decision you make for the rest of your days,” he replies serenely.
I look at Kodiak as he watches the tattoo artist put the finishing touches on his new ink. He seems unaffected by the pain of the needle that’s marking his body with his new brigadier stars. It makes sense that one of the stars is located above his heart. His heart is Bratva. His heart is mine.
As Glazov has proclaimed so many times, the Bratva legacy will indeed carry on to the next generation. I may not have been born into this life but I know it is my destiny. Kodiak and I…we were chosen. This is my family. This is my life now and though I was not born Bratva, I know I will die Bratva.
I smile mischievously as I hop onto the padded table that was placed next to Kodiak’s chair while his tattoo artist applied a cream and bandages over his new ink. Kodiak has every intention of overseeing my new tattoo, the one that will mark me forever as his - but, just this once, I’m one step ahead of him. I have no idea how he’ll react when he realizes that I snuck out with Roksana yesterday to get the tattoo. It hurt like hell getting that much ink in a single session, but I knew I would only have one opportunity to surprise him. It’s been damn near impossible to hide it from him since then, but I managed to somehow. Fortunately, he’s been amused by my coyness, just biding his time because he thinks I’m playing hard to get. My man still enjoys the chase.
I settle onto my stomach and start to slip my jeans down over my hips as Kodiak closes his eyes and clenches his jaw at the prospect of another man, even one he trusts, seeing and touching such an intimate part of my body -- hell, any part of my body. But when his eyes open, his reaction abruptly changes. As my skin is exposed to his gaze, his eyes flare with a seething mix of primal ownership and more than a little displeasure. He shifts his livid stare over to me as he bites out the accusation, “You. Let. Another. Man. Touch. You? Without me in the fucking room?” Those black eyes bore into me and steal my breath. Oh, shit.
“R-Roksana was with me--” I start to say, but abruptly stop when he raises a brow skeptically.
“Think about that for a minute. Is that really supposed to help?” he asks sarcastically. “Enjoy your freedom, baby, because your next stop is the dungeon for a little play time.” He leans in closer to me to whisper for my ears alone, “And I’ll be the only one having a good time. Hope you’re comfortable like this because when I’m done, you won’t be able to sit for a goddamn week.” I bite my lip and wince at the thought of what awaits me in the dungeon, and accept that this surprise isn’t going to go the way I had planned at all.
His posture as he leans over me gives him a better view of the offending hip and he freezes in place. As his gaze returns to the finished tattoo and lingers there, his eyes gleam with masculine satisfaction and pleasure. I have no doubt there will be delicious consequences for sneaking out with his sister, but it’s so worth it when he finally sees exactly what I’ve done.
“Can I?...” he asks
reverently, his eyes looking suspiciously shiny as he reaches out to trace the letters of his name along my hip, just above the dimple that he always finds so captivating. The tattoo marks me as his woman. It marks me as Bratva. And in this moment, it changes everything.
The tattoo artist’s rendering is exactly what Kodiak had wanted – with one important difference that is my gift to him. Above his name there is a bear. A beautiful beast, fierce and proud as it emerges from the flames.
The end for now.
Expose' (Born Bratva Book 3) Page 17