Collared by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 11)

by Hayley Faiman

  “Yes, sir,” he grunts. “Fuck, I hope he doesn’t have this girl. I will call you back in a few hours.” The line goes dead and I hang the phone up before I start to do my own research.

  I’m going into this meeting fully prepared. If this piece of shit is going to take Bratva women, I want to have everything I can on him. If he doesn’t play my game, I don’t care how rich he is, he’s dead. I’m not fucking around when it comes to the people under the umbrella of my protection. Not now. Not ever.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SERGEI

  I expect the club to be buzzing when I walk through the door, but it isn’t. There is only a low hum as people walk around. I take in the space before I make my way toward my table, my private section of the building. I know he’s here, I can practically smell him. Zakhar is in my area, waiting for me.

  He can wait.

  “You’re playing with fire,” Katrina’s soft voice floats from behind me.

  I grunt without turning around, my gaze is focused on Zakhar. He’s sitting with only one man at his side, but I know he has more surrounding the building, and some flittering around the club as well. He would never travel so lightly when it comes to securing his own ass.

  “He played with a fucking volcano when he took your girl,” I mutter.

  Katrina’s throaty laugh fills my ears and she wraps her fingers around my wrist. “Not just my girl, Sergei. You’ve had your taste, you’ve had your fill. She’s yours as well. Reserved more than once for your pleasure,” she reminds me.

  I don’t respond to her words. It’s true, I’ve had Lusha more than a handful of times and I enjoyed her greatly. But to admit it, to think about those moments with her feels wrong when Raisa is at home, waiting for me.

  Lifting my chin toward Nikolai who walked in through one of the side entrances we make our way toward Zakhar and his man. “I was wondering when you’d stop staring and actually get the balls to come over here,” he states as soon as I’m within earshot.

  I don’t respond to his obvious goading. He and his opinions don’t mean much to me, they actually mean very little. What I care about is why he’s suddenly decided he has the right to take women, women that do not belong to him.

  “Why did you take Lusha?” I ask, sitting down across from him.

  Zakhar’s spine straightens and his man places his hand on his forearm in an attempt to rein him in. Nikolai snorts from his place standing behind me. Leaning back in my chair, I cross my ankle over my knee and rest my hands on the armrest, a picture of complete relaxation—at least, on the outside.

  Zakhar shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. She’s mine now. You tell Katrina I want my property back, or I’ll keep hers,” he coolly announces.

  I make a noise in the back of my throat at his mention of Raisa being his property. She’s not his to have.

  She’s mine.

  All mine.

  My woman.

  My slave.

  Mine.

  Zakhar lifts a brow, waiting for me to speak. I inhale deeply through my nose before I let it out. I want nothing more than to pull my gun out and finish him right here, right now. I know that it wouldn’t do me any good. His man would kill me next, then his other men would take over the club and take Katrina and her staff. Thinking before acting is important in my job. I pride myself on my patience and my ability to have complete control over myself and my emotions.

  “Katrina does not have your property,” I state, keeping my gaze level with his own. It’s a truth because I have her.

  Zakhar tilts his head to the side, his eyes searching my own. “So she’s sold her off?” he asks.

  I wonder how he knows what he does. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, thinking. My eyes shift over to his man. He’s staring to my left, and I adjust myself in my seat, turning my head slightly as I let out a fake cough to see what he’s looking at.

  Cursing to myself, I growl. Shifting back to Zakhar, I realize how he got in here, how he figured out who had Raisa, and now, how he sits smugly knowing that I have her in my care. Katrina didn’t vet her employees well enough. I thought I’d taught her well, apparently, she’s slacking on her goddamn job.

  He has an informant.

  A spy.

  I shrug. “Maybe she did. I don’t know Katrina’s business,” I lie.

  He dips his chin. “I want my property back, or I’ll sell Lusha once I’m finished using her.”

  Leaning back in my chair even more, I lift my hands and press my fingertips together in front of my mouth. I’m not really contemplating his words, but I want him to think that I am. I already know he won’t get Raisa back, and he won’t have Lusha long enough to use or sell her.

  “You’re not willing to compromise?” I ask.

  He barks out a laugh, looking up at his man. “Compromise?” he says through his chuckling as he turns his gaze back to me. “I am Zakhar Shvernik, I don’t understand the meaning of the word compromise,” he smiles. He looks evil, like the son of Satan that he is.

  “Give me a week, get together an offer that you can’t refuse?” I ask, arching a brow.

  He frowns, leaning forward, his attention completely focused on me. “An offer I can’t refuse?” he asks.

  “Katrina is quite fond of Lusha. I have a feeling that whomever encounters your slave is just the same, which is why they took her?”

  “Raisa was exquisite. You don’t keep a woman for ten years for no good fucking reason. She was trained to perfection. Willing and waiting for anything and everything I gave her or ordered her to do. She was a smashing hit at all of my parties. With her absence, I have a bunch of disappointed business associates.”

  Every word he speaks causes me to become angrier, and angrier. I want to choke him right this very second, every word he says makes me picture myself killing him slower and slower. Jealousy. I’ve never felt this emotion before, I don’t like it, and yet I cannot control the green-eyed monster of it.

  “Give me one week, Zakhar,” I say, lifting a finger.

  He nods. “One week, but only because you are Sergei Orlov,” he mumbles. He doesn’t want to give me any time, but my name has earned enough respect to buy me a week.

  Dipping my chin, I stand and adjust my suit jacket. “Katrina has already procured a private room, and two women for your evening, free of charge,” I offer.

  His eyes widen before his lips turn up into a smile. “It pays to do business with you, Sergei,” he chuckles, reaching out to offer me his hand.

  Gritting my teeth, I watch him walk away from me. Katrina’s eyes narrow as he skirts past her to his private room. I watch as she stomps toward me, but I ignore her and leave the club. She brought all this shit on herself, and now I have to clean up her fucking mess.

  I walk out to the car, sliding into the backseat wordlessly as I wait for Nikolai to slip into the front and drive me home.

  “Boss?” Nikolai asks as he starts the car.

  Taking my phone out of my pocket, I lift my finger up to halt him. I shoot Katrina a text about her shitty employee. Nikolai frowns at me through the rearview mirror. Finding the next contact in my phone, I place it on speaker as I call.

  “Yeah?” the man on the other end asks.

  “I have a job for you, Vladimir,” I announce.

  Nikolai jerks the wheel of the car causing us to swerve. I spend the next five minutes giving Vladimir, one of my Torpedos, the information he needs to perform his next job. I won’t have to come up with a sweeter deal for Zakhar next week, because the fucker will be dead before then.

  “Are you sure you want to do this, he has powerful ties,” Nikolai questions after I’ve ended the call.

  I grunt, lifting my hand and running my fingers through my hair. “I’m not sure. But he needs to die.”

  My words are my truth. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing, or if I’m acting on fear. I’ve never had the strong urge to maim someone as violently as I do Zakhar. I want to watch him bleed, I want to carve him up, and
laugh as I piss on his bloody body.

  Nikolai lets out a breath. “I’m sending my wife away for a few weeks. If you want, you can send Raisa with her,” he offers.

  I shake my head, my mind spinning at the thought of Raisa being out of my sight for longer than the workday. “Nyet,” I say as he pulls into my driveway. “She will be okay. I’ll bring her into the city. My apartment building is secure, and I’ll be closer to her while I’m working,” I say.

  Nikolai shakes his head. “You are in love with her, boss.”

  My entire body freezes at his words. Love. I don’t understand the word or the emotion. I never have. I know what I feel for my daughter, but I would not describe even that as love.

  Stepping out of the car, I lean down, my eyes catching Nikolai’s who is now turned around and looking at me, a smug grin playing on his lips.

  “No, she’s my possession, Nikolai. I do not love her. I do not love. If she left me tomorrow, I would miss her body until I found another who satisfied me as much as she does. I would not mourn the loss of her. I would not be devastated. I would move on, possibly even the next day.”

  The color drains from Nikolai’s face and he shakes his head, clearly disappointed in his boss. I should care—I don’t.

  “You are a bastard, you know that?” he asks.

  I laugh, the booming sound loud, hurting my own ears. “I know, Niko. I’ve never claimed to be anything but.” I shrug before straightening my back. Turning, I leave him. Raisa’s body is waiting for me, and after the night I’ve had, I need a piece of it.

  RAISA

  “Raisa,” a voice booms.

  My entire body is jerked as it’s dragged along the soft carpeting. I was curled up on my bed, but Sergei’s fingers are wrapped around my ankle and pulling me out from the safety of my pillow. I don’t fight him. My heart races from being woken suddenly but as soon as my eyes find his, I let out a breath.

  He shakes his head, fire alight in his gaze. He looks on edge. Gone is the cool and collected lover I had earlier. He’s not the man right now that I’ve come to know. Something’s happened to change him, and for the first time since he’s brought me here, I’m frightened.

  I don’t speak, as badly as I want to ask him what’s wrong, I don’t. He picks me up by the waist and throws me face down on the middle of the bed. I hear some rustling and then I feel something soft press against my ass. Cool lube drips down my crack before the object penetrates me.

  Sergei groans, his balls resting against my pussy. His cock has filled my ass without warning, without a word, and I whimper. It doesn’t hurt, there’s a feeling of pressure, but there is no true pain. Closing my eyes, I stay perfectly still, waiting for the next move.

  None of his body touches me except his hands spreading my ass apart, and his cock buried inside of me. He fucks me. Wordlessly, he takes my body. I let out a breath, trying to calm myself, trying to take myself to the place I know, the place where I’ve resided for over ten years. My quiet, safe place.

  This time everything is different though. Every time I find myself close to my place of calm and relaxation, something blocks me from going there. Sergei’s thrusts speed, the force intensifying as well. I bite the inside of my cheek, tasting blood and for the first time since being brought into this room, I pray that he finishes soon and leaves me alone.

  He buries himself inside of me one last time with a groan and I feel his cock twitch. I let out a ragged breath, glad the moment has finally ended. “You’re mine, Raisa. Do not forget that,” he barks as he gently slips from my body.

  I stay quiet, hoping that he leaves me soon. His rough fingers slide up my spine and his fingers tangle in my hair, tugging my head back. He twists me around so that I’m forced to look behind me, forced to look directly into his face. “I own all of you, Raisa. Mind, body, and soul. Do not forget that.”

  Nodding, I stay quiet, unsure of where all of this is coming from. He doesn’t give me any answers, either. Without another word, he releases me, pulling up his pants and I watch as he walks toward the door. He pauses with his hand on the knob and looks back to me.

  “You’ll be moved tomorrow. Do what you need to do to mentally prepare for that. I will come to you when it is time to go. Panya will be joining us, the chef will not,” he announces.

  He doesn’t give me a chance to respond, he opens the door, slamming it behind him, then I hear the lock click into place. Only then do I let my tears fall.

  Whatever I thought we might have. I know the truth now. I’m nothing but a possession, just like I was nothing but one of Master Zakhar’s. Slowly, I make my way to the bathroom to shower and clean myself. I don’t know when I’ll be washing my hair again next so even though my body is sore and tired, I take the time to wash everything.

  By the time I’m clean, I know it’s late. My legs feel like Jell-O, my ass hurts, and I just want to sleep. On shaky legs, I take myself to bed, except I don’t sleep in the cage beneath the bed, on my pillow. This time, I crawl into the big bed. It feels weird, but I’m too exhausted to care. I need a comfortable place to lay my head, my body craves to completely rest. I’m also really sad.

  My eyes burn as tears fall from them. I don’t bother dashing them away with my hands. I let them fall as I stare out at the blank nothingness in front of me. I allow myself this night to cry. The night that what little hope I had left for my future was shattered.

  All I wanted was to be desired, to be kept, to have my forever. I didn’t care how that happened, if I slept beneath his bed, or next to him. None of it mattered. I just wanted to feel safe, and I thought for the first time in years I had finally found that.

  I was wrong.

  So wrong.

  Letting out a sigh, I try to find sleep, but I don’t. It’s futile. Instead, I wait for tomorrow, for the future, for what is to come.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SERGEI

  I am hard on her. I know that I am. She doesn’t know what could happen though. She has no idea. It is my job to protect her, and in doing that, it makes me seem unreasonable and harsh. I couldn’t protect Tatyana, I failed her, and I refuse to fail my Raisa, even if she hates me in the end. It doesn’t matter how she feels about me, as long as she is safe.

  Standing on the other side of the door, a bra and panty set in my hand I squeeze the delicate fabric and stare at the closed door. “Mr. Orlov, would you like me to prepare her?” Panya asks from my side.

  Dipping my chin, I turn to look over at my maid. She’s wringing her fingers together, obviously a bit nervous to ask me this question. I shake my head. “No, wait for us in the car,” I harshly bark. She jumps, then turns around and scurries off.

  Slipping the key into the lock, I slowly twist it, unlocking the door before I turn the handle and step into the room. My body locks up solid at the sight before me.

  Raisa is sleeping, but that isn’t what has me completely baffled. It’s the fact that she’s in the bed, curled beneath the sheets. My heart fucking stops at the sight of her in the bed. She’s absolutely beautiful. If I thought her submission, her complete and total obedience was something awe-worthy, I was fucking mistaken. This, this is something completely gorgeous, and downright confusing.

  She must sense me. She sits up, the sheet falling from her breasts exposing them for me, and somehow, it’s more erotic than her being here naked and waiting for me. “We’re leaving in five minutes,” I grumble.

  I don’t move my eyes away from her. She shifts so that her legs are hanging off of the bed, then slides off of the side and onto her hands and knees. Her move so fucking graceful I wonder how she didn’t become a ballerina.

  My cock hardens as she crawls toward me. She looks sad, and it should not turn me on even more, it does, with every move she makes I want to groan and tug her closer. I want to fuck every part of her before we head out on our short trip.

  “Put these on,” I growl, shoving the fabric to her.

  She reaches for the scraps and gives me a j
erky nod as she begins to put the bra and panties on. They’re see-through, they’re sexy, and they do absolutely nothing but make me even goddamn harder for her.

  Reaching down, I hook her leash to the front of her collar. Tugging her up, I bite the corner of my lip as she rises to her feet. “The car is waiting,” I mutter.

  “Yes, Master,” she breathes. I hate it. I hate the way she says it, the way she sounds, and I hate that it isn’t my name.

  I shake my head. “You, krasotka, you call me Sergei,” I rasp, dipping my chin and brushing my lips across her sweet ones.

  “Okay,” she breathes against my mouth. “Sergei,” she finally whispers faintly.

  Without saying another word, I turn and tug her behind me. I need to get my head together, to figure out what exactly had me so fucked up seeing her in that bed. She’s a woman, just a woman who slept in a bed. It shouldn’t mean anything. However, as everything has been with Raisa, nothing makes sense, not a damn thing.

  My phone rings as soon as we are in the car. Cursing, I look at the caller ID. I send it to voicemail. It’s Katrina and I’m sure it’s about her employee. The one who is selling her information out to Zakhar. I need to get back to the city to deal with this. I need to ensure that Raisa is safe, and then it will be time to end Zakhar.

  “The apartment isn’t as big as the house. You’ll have free reign there, Raisa. There is no playroom, and I won’t lock you inside my bedroom. Will you be okay with those arrangements?” I ask her, keeping my voice low and even.

  She nods her head, keeping her sweet voice from me and I know it is a way to punish me. I deserve it, even if I don’t want to accept it, I truly do deserve her silence. However, I’m too much of a fucking bastard to allow it.

  “I need you to use your voice,” I say, wrapping my fingers around her bare thigh. She jumps, turning to look at me, her eyes are wide and finally, I see an emotion in them. Unfortunately, it’s fear.