Living for the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 4)

by Hayley Faiman

  “Nyet. I need my gun, though, pchelka,” he says, lifting his chin toward his nightstand.

  I don’t know why I never realized he carried a gun daily, but he does. Usually, he keeps it in the back of his waistband. I walk over to the drawer and hand him the gun. He makes the wheelchair look small as his frame fills the seat. I watch as he sets the gun at his side, not in his pants, but just at the side of his thigh.

  “Have you heard from Leonid?” I ask as I wheel him out of the room and toward the elevator.

  Dominik is waiting for us downstairs. Though, being Yakov’s driver is beneath his duty, station, and paygrade, he’s doing it until the man who did this to him has been caught, and until Leonid has been found and questioned.

  “No. No leads on him or his family. I trusted him. I should know better than to trust anybody at all,” he grunts.

  “What about Radimir? You trust him. He’s family,” I say as the elevator car slowly lowers toward the lobby. “What about me?”

  “I trust Radimir as a member of my family, but this is business, Ashley. I should have known not to trust Leonid when it comes to business, or anybody else for that matter.”

  I don’t push him or ask more questions. He’s feeling angry and betrayed. Though he doesn’t exactly know what’s happened yet, suspicions are high. I can’t blame him for that. He could have been killed, and it’s just too coincidental that Leonid disappeared at almost the exact second Yakov was shot.

  “Boss,” Dominik grins as I push Yakov toward the car.

  “Shut up or I’ll shoot you,” he grumbles.

  “Yakov!” I scold.

  “Hush, pchelka,” he rumbles.

  Slowly, Yakov climbs into the back seat of the SUV and groans as he sits down. Dominik takes the wheelchair out of my hands and folds it before opening up the back of the car and stowing it away. I walk over to the other side and climb in next to Yakov, with Dominik on my heels to climb into the front driver’s seat.

  “You’ve only given me a list of four homes to look at, Ashley,” Dominik announces as we drive toward Sands Point, New York.

  “Yes, that’s correct,” I confirm.

  “If we’re driving over an hour, don’t you want to see more places?” he asks, his voice laced in confusion.

  “These are the ones Ashley wishes to see, Dominik. Don’t question her,” Yakov mumbles as he lies his head back against the headrest.

  “Are you feeling all right?” I ask, placing my hand against his hard abs, careful not to touch any part of him that could be in pain.

  “I’m good, pchelka, just tired,” he sighs before he picks up my hand and kisses the inside of my wrist.

  “Poor baby. I’ll take care of you tonight so you can rest,” I mutter.

  “You’ll suck my cock, hmm?” he asks as he leans over and buries his face in my neck.

  “Jacob,” I hiss.

  “You’ll do it because you want to make me happy, yeah? Your lips around my cock makes me so fucking happy,” he grunts as his tongue snakes out and licks my neck.

  I shiver, not bothering to verbalize my answer. I’ll do it because he wants me to, and because it makes him happy. I’ll also do it because I like it. I’ll do it to put a smile on his face, and I’ll do it because—most importantly—I love him.

  “You need to rest. It’s going to be a long day,” I say, trying to be stern.

  Yakov presses his lips to my neck before he lays back and grins.

  “What house is first?” he asks a few minutes later.

  “The one we both love the most,” I say.

  “The colonial on two acres?” he asks arching his brow.

  “Yes,” I confirm with a nod.

  We don’t say anything else for the rest of the car ride to the house. When we pull into the drive, I almost gasp. The house is a lovely shade of dove gray, the front door entrance framed by four large pillars that look as though they support a small balcony. The front yard is large, with beautiful bright green grass, and a circular pebbled driveway.

  “When you decide to get married and have children, you don’t fuck around,” Dominik mutters as he opens the door and steps out.

  I’m too in awe of the beautiful house to respond to his remark. I only tear my eyes away when Yakov’s door opens and I see that Dominik is there with his wheelchair, waiting.

  I step out of the car as Dominik helps Yakov. Hurrying around as fast as my heels will take me, and then I see a black sedan pulling up the drive. Dominik and Yakov both take out their guns. Only when the door opens and they see who the driver is do they stow their weapons.

  “It’s the realtor,” I mumble as I push Yakov toward the tiny round woman who Yakov, himself, hired to find us a new family home.

  “I’m Amelia,” she boasts as she steps toward me and shakes my hand. She then looks down at Yakov and gives him a smile.

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Ashley, and this Yakov,” I say when Yakov doesn’t speak.

  “Shall we see the house? Now, I want to warn you that it’s not wheelchair accessible, but with some minor changes, I believe that it very well could be,” she prattles.

  Yakov’s body straightens in front of me and I’m afraid he’s going to scream and yell.

  “Oh, Yakov was in an accident. This is temporary,” I say quickly, trying to avoid confrontation.

  “I apologize, sir,” she says. She does look sorry for her mistake.

  We spend the next twenty minutes going through the house. It’s very beautiful. The hardwood floors have a herringbone pattern, and it’s so unique. There are bedrooms upstairs that are already painted, one in blue, and one in pink.

  Everything inside has crisp, clean lines; it’s almost modern styling, but without being contemporary. That is, until I walk into the library, which has gorgeous, dark wood bookshelves and molding around the doors, and the entire ceiling. It is by far my favorite room in the house.

  “This is nice,” Yakov murmurs as I wheel him into the space.

  “It’s beautiful,” I say in awe.

  “It’s the only room in the house I actually like,” Yakov announces.

  “You don’t care for the rest of the home?” I ask in surprise.

  “If you want it, then I’ll buy it for you, pchelka, but it isn’t what I would pick out. The pictures look better than the actual house,” he shrugs.

  I decide to move onto the next house. Yakov doesn’t like that one either. Then the next, he hates, and the fourth and final home he says is a waste of space.

  It has full-size indoor basketball court, and he doesn’t care for them. That’s just one of the many complaints he lists. We leave Sands Point no closer to finding a home than when we arrived. I leave feeling frustrated, not only with home shopping, but also with Yakov.

  “What about Scarsdale?” Dominik asks as he maneuvers the car in a different direction.

  “Scarsdale?” Yakov asks with a furrowed brow.

  “It’s still an hour from Staten Island, but I know a couple of the men live there with their families,” he announces.

  I press the Safari app on my phone and start to search for listings when a house catches my eyes.

  “This is it,” I whisper.

  Yakov takes the phone from my grasp and starts to scroll through the pictures. I hear him grunt, then hum, and I know that he’s seeing things he likes as well.

  “It isn’t very big,” he says.

  “All the others you said were too big,” I remind him.

  “I’ll call this listing agent,” he murmurs, ignoring my comment.

  A few minutes later, we’re sitting in front of an all rock, Tudor home that sits on a little over an acre of land. Dominik hurries to help Yakov out of the car. I slowly slide out of the SUV and just stare at the pretty peaks of the roof.

  This is it.

  This is my new home.

  This is where I will raise my children.

  Seconds later, a red corvette convertible pulls up and a leggy brunette exits.
She introduces herself as the realtor for the property. She’s extremely professional, until her eyes land on Dominik, then they glaze over and her face relaxes a bit before it turns red with a blush. She takes a breath and refocuses her attention back on me.

  The next hour is spent with Inessa, the agent, as she explains every detail of the house. She points out all of the original features from the 1928 home, and shows how they’ve been impeccably kept or restored to their original glory. I love every piece of the home, from the dark hardwood floors, to the arched, dark hardwood doors.

  It’s so different and absolutely lovely.

  Inessa leaves us outside to discuss the home amongst ourselves. Suspiciously enough, Dominik leaves us too.

  “I like this one, Ashley. It looks like a home; it looks like it would be easy to live in. I could see children running around and playing here. It isn’t too fancy, too sterile, too mansion-like. I lived in a house like that my entire life. I can afford those other mansions, but I want a home.

  “I want somewhere that I can call out, and no matter where you are in the house, you’ll hear me. I want to hear our children’s laughter echo throughout the rooms. Yes, I like this one,” he announces.

  “I love this one, too,” I say, unable to speak above a whisper.

  “Then it is yours,” he rumbles as his hand reaches out and takes hold of mine.

  We spend the next few minutes just looking out into the grounds of the backyard. There is a rock archway that leads to a garden of some kind, and it’s so calm and serene here—quiet and just peaceful. The back porch will be perfect for outdoor entertaining or just to relax and read a book; a place to enjoy the calm.

  “This is where our children will be raised,” Yakov announces.

  “Yes, it is,” I agree.

  “This is where we build the life for them that we never had. This is where we make our happiness,” he rumbles.

  Tears fill my eyes, but I don’t turn to face him. I nod and I whisper my agreement. This is where we’ll raise our children; where we’ll insure that they’re not only cared for, but healthy and happy as well.

  This is where we will create our own world of happiness, something neither of us has had until we found one another. Even when we did, our road has not been an easy one.

  We turn and silently make our way back inside of the home, me pushing Yakov’s chair. When we walk into the living area, Dominik has Inessa in his arms, and he’s kissing her. He isn’t being gentle, either. He’s being controlling and possessive. I grin as I watch her melt into his hold.

  No woman can resist these Russian men.

  “Are you finished molesting the real estate agent so that I can give her something better than your kiss?” Yakov asks.

  I gasp and Inessa jumps back from Dominik’s hold with wide, scared eyes. Dominik gives us a cocky grin.

  “I didn’t know you liked to play that way, Yakov. I’m down for some fun,” Dominik chuckles.

  If I couldn’t tell he was joking, I would be offended; but the way his eyes are alight with mischief tells me he’s said these words just to get a rise from the beautiful Inessa.

  “I’m so sorry, sir,” she murmurs as her eyes drop.

  “Commission, Inessa. Dominik is an ass. Ignore him,” Yakov grunts.

  Inessa’s head pops up and her eyes widen again.

  “Commission?” she asks.

  “Yeah, we’re buying the house. I want it ASAP. I’m paying cash. This shouldn’t take too long, should it?” he asks. Inessa’s mouth falls open before she snaps it closed and nods.

  “How much would you like to offer them? They’re motivated to sell, but it hasn’t been on the market long—”

  Yakov holds up his hand to stop her from speaking and then speaks himself.

  “Full price. I want it. They’ve done a beautiful job on the restoration, which I’m sure was expensive. My pchelka wants this house, and I’m not playing games and taking any chances with it.”

  I stifle a laugh. He acts as though I’m the only one that loves this house when, in fact, he adores it just as much as I do.

  “I can write that up and get it submitted today. I can email you the documents and you can e-sign if you wish,” she nervously rattles.

  “Yes, please. Dominik, give her my information, yeah?” Yakov says.

  “Yes,” Dominik mutters.

  “Take me back to the car, pchelka,” Yakov murmurs. I watch as he stifles a yawn.

  “Inessa Kozlov. Very Russian,” I overhear Dominik say as I wheel Yakov out of the house.

  “He better not fuck anything up with this deal,” Yakov mutters as I help him into the backseat of the SUV.

  “How could he do that?”

  “By fucking her, then fucking her over before escrow closes,” he grunts, then winces as he sits down.

  “She’s very pretty. Maybe he wants a relationship,” I shrug, leaving his wheelchair where it is so that Dominik can put it away.

  “Naïve, Ashley. You’re naïve, and it’s one of my favorite things about you,” he murmurs before he yawns and closes his eyes.

  I want to tell him that I’m not naïve, but that would be a lie. When it comes to certain aspects of life, I am very much naïve. Relationships are one of the aspects I don’t know much about. I climb into the back seat and curl up next to Yakov, needing to be close to him.

  A few minutes later, Dominik returns and tells us that he’s given her Yakov’s email address and she said that she would be in touch shortly. Then we head for The Mark. I yawn and close my eyes, nestling closer to Yakov, and laying my head on his chest before I fall asleep.

  When we arrive back at the hotel, Dominik helps me get Yakov back up to our room.

  “Call me if you need me,” he mutters before he turns and leaves us alone.

  “I’m ready to be better,” Yakov grumbles as he slowly walks toward the bedroom. “I’m too young to be this fucking tired after doing practically nothing.”

  “You just got out of the hospital a few days ago,” I frown. “Give yourself a bit of a break.”

  Yakov grunts before he flops down on the bed and then groans.

  “Do you need your pain pills?” I ask, hurrying to his side.

  “Nyet. I need my cock sucked,” he growls.

  “Jacob,” I sigh.

  “Orgasms are the best medicine. Now come.”

  “That is not a saying,” I murmur as I make my way toward his side of the bed.

  “It is now. No more talking.”

  I spend the next thirty minutes giving Yakov what he deems as the best medicine. Once he’s satisfied, he orders me to bring myself pleasure while he watches, as he’s too sore and tired to do it himself. I think that he just wants to watch, because the smug look on his face tells a completely different story.

  With our eyes locked on each other, I strip and then walk over to the chair that’s across from the bed. Boldly, I spread my thighs and I touch myself. It doesn’t take me long to shudder with my release. The combination of bringing Yakov pleasure, plus his eyes being focused on me the entire time, had me dripping with desire before I even had my clothes off.

  “Come to bed and lie down with me, pchelka,” he murmurs huskily.

  I do as he asks and together we fall asleep.

  Wrapped in Yakov’s arms, the vision of our new home planted firmly at the front of my thoughts, I sigh happily and I sleep.

  MY PHONE SCREAMS TO life on the night stand and I grunt as I roll to my side and grab it. I answer it before waking Ashley from her slumber, I hope.

  “Chekov,” I grunt.

  “We have problems,” Dominik’s deep voice says in my ear.

  “What?” I ask, my heartrate beginning to spike. What we don’t need are more problems. We’ve had enough.

  “I found Leonid, his wife, and their children,” he mutters. “Dead.”

  “Where?”

  “Not sure you want to know that,” he grumbles.

  I don’t say anything. I’m
the boss, of course I want to fucking know.

  Christ.

  “Came by your apartment to pick up your extra pieces to bring to The Mark in the morning like you asked…” he tails off.

  “They’re in my apartment?” I shout, causing Ashley to stir next to me. Her eyes are wide and she’s looking at me with a mix of confusion and fear.

  “Been here for some time,” he mutters. “They fuckin’ stink.”

  “Call a cleanup crew. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” I mumble as I sit up completely.

  “Yes, boss,” he says before hanging up the phone.

  “What’s happened?” Ashley asks, her voice husky with sleep.

  “They found Leo and his family,” I announce as I slowly stand.

  My legs hurt like hell, and the stitches pull, but I take a few steps. They feel better than they did yesterday, and I consider this progress. Maybe there is something to the rest that Ashley has been adamant I take.

  “Oh, my gosh, how wonderful,” she sighs.

  I sit back down on the bed and turn slightly to face her, wrapping my hand around the back of her neck. Looking into her eyes, I shake my head once and she gasps.

  “No,” she whispers.

  “They weren’t found breathing, pchelka. And they were found this way inside of our apartment,” I mutter.

  “How?” she exhales.

  “This, I do not know. I’m heading down there now. I was going to leave you here, but the men I trust the most aren’t available to stay with you,” I murmur.

  “I don’t want to see that,” she whispers.

  “What if I leave you at Pasha and Sonia’s? They have fantastic security,” I suggest.

  “I would like that,” she nods.

  “Up and dressed, then, while I make the call.”

  “Should you be walking with your injuries?” she asks, her brows knitting with concern.

  Her care of me the past few days is something I have never experienced before, and I find that I like how it feels. She’s going to make a fantastic mother; whether she sees it or not, it’s there inside of her—the ability to nurture, care, and love.

  “I feel much better,” I murmur as I bend down and brush my lips against hers. “Now, let’s hurry.”

  We’re in the car a few minutes later, on our way to Pasha and Sonia’s place. Luckily, they’d already been awoken by the news of Leonid and were happy to have Ashley stay with them while I deal with the situation.