The Ghost: A Bratva Blood Novella

by SR Jones

  There’s one guy within the five who you want to watch out for. Total badass, Albanian, has the eagle tattoo on his upper back, and a star on his neck. He’s dangerous as fuck from what I can gather. Wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t end up running the show permanently. He was the other second in command, and I can’t figure out why he’s not running shit and Jan is.

  Fought in Kosovo. Doesn’t do drugs or drink. Not my place to say, but if you take out the cunt at the top now, this guy might be someone at some point to have a sit down with. Think he has a good head on his shoulders from all I’ve read. Yeah, he’s part of this fucked up crew, but from his actions and what intelligence we have on him, he’s someone marked as wanting more, and not being swayed by easy pleasures like pussy and coke. His name is Gezim Muka.

  They won’t be hard to miss as they are showy fuckers, this gang, and they love their bling and high-end designer casual wear. Gezim is the only one who doesn’t follow the dress code; tends to wear a suit. He also has a lady, if the intel is correct. She’s living in Dubrovnik, and he goes to see her a few times a year.

  Finally, in Berlin is an accountant. He works for them, and he lives at an address I’m sending you by email as well. He’s a sick fuck, and from what I’ve found out, he enjoys breaking in the women these fuckers are trafficking. You might want to visit him first, as he cleans their money, it will disable their whole organization as well as send a message.

  Hit me up if you need any further intel, and I’ll see what I can do.

  D

  Showy fuckers, indeed. From what I had seen when we hit Elio, the previous leader when he was in the club, they love gold jewelry, running shoes that cost more than a month’s rent, big, flashy cars, and flashier women.

  I finger the gold cross at my neck, the only jewelry other than my wedding band and watches that I wear. Holding onto the cross, I send a prayer to God to be on our side. After all, I may not have been a perfect person, and I might have done a lot of things wrong in this life, but these fuckers? They’re downright evil, and taking them out can only be a good thing.

  Heading downstairs, I grin when I hear a familiar voice from the living room. Reece.

  Something inside me relaxes. He’ll look after Violet; I know he will. Kate is nice too, and I’m hoping she can be another friend to my wife. She’s a big deal author and can work from anywhere, and she loves adventure as much as Reece does, so the chance to come and start a new life was too good to be true, or so Reece told me.

  I walk into the living space and pause. Reece has shaved his hair into a close buzz cut.

  “What the fuck?” I go and roughly mess his hair, what’s left of it. He ducks out of my touch.

  “Had enough of it. Shaved it all off.”

  “You look ugly as sin without it,” I say with a laugh.

  “No, he does not,” Kate replies with a faux annoyed huff.

  She stands and comes to give me a hug, then pulls back and looks at me. “You look younger,” she says. “By a lot. I swear, I’d say you were not even thirty. Must be the ocean air and the sun.”

  “The Greeks swear it’s their olive oil that keeps them young, so maybe it’s that.” I shrug. I don’t feel younger. I feel like an old man with the threat facing us from all sides.

  Reece must pick up something from my expression because he comes to stand by me and pulls me in for a backslapping, manly hug. “It’ll be okay,” he says into my ear. “I’ll keep them safe. On my life.”

  I nod as we break apart. “I know you will.”

  He and I went through hell many years ago when we were caught up in a dire situation together. We might not have always seemed on the same side of the legal divide, or on the same side of the moral one at times, but we’ve always had one another’s back.

  “You and K are two people I trust with my family, and you being here while I’m gone means everything.”

  “When do you leave?” he asks.

  I take a seat opposite Kate and wait until Reece also sits before carrying on speaking. “Day after tomorrow. Alexei arrives tomorrow to stay with Zoey. We want to give everyone a day to bed in and then myself, Vasily, and Priest head for Berlin.”

  “Priest?”

  “Yeah, a friend of Cole’s. Navy Seal like Cole, and shit hot so far as I can ascertain from Damen and Cole.”

  “A Seal and a couple of Spetsnaz working together; who’d have thought it?” Reece chuckles.

  “Well, we worked together a few times, and you’re Brit Special Forces, so…”

  “Yeah, but still, it will be interesting.”

  I shrug. “If he’s a good man, and accurate with a gun, I don’t care who he worked for. Anyway, he’s going to be coming in on our venture.”

  Reece raises an eyebrow. “Another training instructor?”

  “Yep. We had a chat. He wants in.”

  “Was he a numbers or color guy?” Reece asks.

  Kate’s brow furrows, and she turns to him. “What?”

  “Numbers are the regular SEAL teams, colors are those in SEAL team six,” Reece explains.

  “Color.”

  “Okay.” He nods. “Highly trained then?”

  “Highly, and live experience of hostage recovery, which I do not have. K either. That is going to be important for VIP protection.”

  “Got experience in that myself,” Reece rumbled.

  “I know,” I say, not wanting him to think for a moment I don’t know how highly qualified he is. “Doesn’t hurt to have more than one of you, though.”

  “What about Cole?” Reece asks.

  “Not sure. He’s in for now, during this part of things, but longer term, I don’t know. He wants to find Pamela. He hasn't given up on her yet.”

  I personally think Cole’s chances of finding Pamela alive now are minimal at best. I haven't told him as much. Sometimes a man needs to believe, or they lose all hope.

  “There’s another man they work with, who might be interested. A Force Recon Marine.”

  “Nice. What an inclusive group we’ll be.” Then he bursts out laughing.

  I don’t get the joke, but I laugh too because I’m too tired to ask him to explain. I’m sleeping terribly and worried sick about leaving Violet. I know she’s in good hands, but it isn’t the same as me being here. If I thought I could, I would send Vasily, Priest, and Bohdan to do this and stay home and guard my family, but I need to be there. I need to reignite the fear my name used to carry.

  People in parts of Russia and the Ukraine fucking crossed themselves when they heard my name, and I want these Albanian fucks in Europe to do the same.

  I’ll make them fear me so much, my family will become untouchable.

  Chapter Four

  Violet

  The next day, I find Andrius in front of the mirror in our bedroom dressed in his suit, his hair gelled in a way it hasn’t been for ages, fastening his cuff links. My heart trips over itself. He’s so handsome, but he’s also the old Andrius. The one who killed people and put himself in danger, and so I hate to see him like this.

  He views me in the mirror and smiles.

  “I thought you weren’t going until tomorrow,” I tell him.

  “We aren’t, but it hit me that I ought to try a couple of suits on because I’ve gained a bit of weight.”

  I laugh. He has bulked up slightly, but it’s muscle he’s put on. He’s been eating more but working out more too, and doing more weights than running. I think because he’s been sticking close to me these past few months ever since the stuff that happened in England with Konstantin it has meant his work out routine has changed. Instead of going for long runs, he does interval training in the gym in the basement. “The only weight you’ve put on is even more muscle. You’ll be as big as Damen soon,” I tease.

  He shoots me a narrowed eyed glance. “Like that, would you?”

  I laugh again. So possessive. “No, I love you as you are. Your body is perfection.”

  It is too. He has the big buil
d and strength he needs to intimidate anyone he’s up against, but with the height and grace of a top athlete. Andrius has a six pack whereas Damen is built like a massive line backer. I prefer Andrius by a mile.

  “If I told you how much better looking you were, you’d get a big head,” I say with a smile.

  “Come here.” He crooks his finger at me, and I do.

  Then it hits me. His scent. He’s wearing the same aftershave he used to when I first met him, and he hasn't worn it in ages.

  Now he wears something lighter, not citrus-fresh but almost oceanic. This old scent of his is musky, peppery, and wickedly sexy.

  “It’s as if you’re an actor slipping into character,” I murmur into his shoulder.

  “In many ways I am,” he says. “It’s a uniform, you know? More, it’s a shield. The clothes, the hair, the watch—they’re all who I used to be, and I need to become him again.”

  “I fell in love with you when you were him, but I hate that he’s back because it means you’re heading into danger,” I say.

  He tips my chin up with his thumb. “Baby, I promise you I’m going to do all in my power to take those fuckers out and come home to you.”

  “I know,” I say, trying not to let the tears come. I won’t cry in front if him. I won’t.

  I don’t want him leaving and worrying about me and how I will cope because I need his head in the game. I force a smile on my face.

  For some reason the memory of him putting me over his knee and spanking me all those months ago in England comes to me, and I feel myself flush.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asks.

  “Nothing.”

  “Zaika.” His tone is warning.

  “It’s nothing, just… I don’t know why, but I thought of when we were in England, when we first met and you … you erm, punished me.” My cheeks must be apple red by now. God, why do I find this stuff so hard to talk about? I’ve had a kid damn it. “Do you think I’m a prude?” I blurt out.

  His eyes widen. “What? With the things we do? No. You’re a little shy, and it’s gorgeous.”

  “Gorgeous?”

  “Charming.”

  I laugh then. “I’ll take gorgeous and charming.”

  His hand sweeps up my back to my hair. “I ought to take a lock of your hair and keep it on me at all times for good luck.”

  “You could,” I say as a really filthy idea comes to me. I’m so nervous, but I do it anyway. I’m wearing a long skirt, and so I reach up under it and pull my thong down. Blinking, I hand it to him. “Or you could erm, maybe … erm, take these?”

  He stares at me and then grins, hungry and wolfish. He snatches my thong and pockets it. Then he turns me around so I’m in front of him and facing the wardrobe.

  “Sometimes, Violet, you surprise the ever-loving hell out of me, and I love it,” he whispers in my ear. “You’re a naughty girl who tries so hard to be good, aren’t you?”

  I nod, my mouth dry.

  It’s more like truthfully I’m a good girl with a depraved side she only lets out for her dark lover. Andrius awakened this in me, truth be told, and I can’t say I mind. Under his touch something deeply sensual comes awake in me. He can still melt me with just a look, or a low-spoken word or two.

  His scent wraps around me as he envelopes me in big arms. Like this, suited and booted, with his hair styled, he’s handsome in a predatory, intense way, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t hot.

  His hands reach for my skirt, and he begins to pull the material up. My breath catches as it rises higher and higher. First my knees are revealed, then my thighs, and finally, my most intimate area.

  “Look at yourself,” he purrs. “So fucking beautiful.”

  He brushes his hands over my thighs, and then he cups my mound, and I whimper into his touch.

  Clever fingers part my folds, and I look away as I’m exposed completely.

  “Don’t hide from it, zaika. Look,” he commands. “See how perfect you are. So wet and pink. All ripe and swollen for me.”

  I look back, shy and unsure, but it is hot to see his massive hand playing with me. Slowly, he inserts a finger inside me, and I grab onto the arm still around me, holding onto him for support.

  He finger fucks me, his eyes trained on the spot where his flesh disappears into mine in the mirror. His thumb plays with my clit as he slowly pushes in and out, making me so needy it hurts.

  Letting go of my waist for a moment with his other arm, he takes my thong out of his pocket, and pulling his fingers out of me, he uses the material to wipe between my legs.

  I stare at him confused, as he folds it up and carefully places it back in his pocket.

  “So I can smell you whenever I need to,” he says.

  I gasp. “Andrius.” Sometimes he genuinely shocks me.

  He laughs and bites my ear as he slowly pushes in me again with two thick fingers. “Oh, so you didn’t give me them for that exact reason?”

  “No, I, erm… It was a silly idea. I didn’t think of that.”

  He laughs harder. “Ah, baby, so easy to shock.”

  Letting go of me and withdrawing his fingers, he sits on the bed, still fully dressed, and opens his zip. Taking out his massive erect cock, he smiles as I turn to him. “No, face the mirror still. I want you to see us together.”

  He pulls me down onto him, taking care of me as he eases his way in. My eyes drift shut at first at the delicious moment of our joining, but he slaps my ass firmly with his open palm. “Watch, Violet.”

  Parting my folds, he stares at the place where he enters my body, and so do I. It’s almost obscene, how big he is and how small I am.

  Once I’m seated on him, he holds my hips and guides me up and down. We get into a rhythm and I know it won’t take me long to come. I’m wound up at him leaving, and turned on at seeing him in his old persona; both of which make a heady, emotional combination.

  His hands reach for my t-shirt, and he pulls it up, my bra too. He doesn’t take either of them off, simply pulls the material up so my breasts fall out into his palms. He weighs them, palming them and squeezing gently. He’s careful because he knows sometimes I’m sore with still feeding.

  “These tits are the best tits in the whole world,” he declares.

  I laugh. “You’re so coarse.”

  “It’s fucking true,” he says. “I love them.”

  “I hope you love more about me than simply my boobs,” I reply, trying hard to sound offended, but ruining it by gasping at the end of my sentence as he hits my g-spot just right.

  “I love every single fucking thing about you,” he growls. “All of it. All of you. You’re mine, baby; for better or worse—mine.”

  “And you’re mine,” I gasp as he hits me again and again in that delicious place. Shit, I’m going to come. I do with a cry as I fall over the edge.

  He pulls me into him and buries his face in my neck as he comes too.

  For a moment we stay still, riding the ebbing waves, and then I pull off him and turn around, straddling him so I’m facing him. “I mean it, you know? You are mine. I know you’re going to be around a lot of women. I don’t want you touching anyone else.”

  He leans back, giving me his face, and turns serious. “Zaika, I would never touch another woman. Do you know what you mean to me? I swear it to you, on my sister’s soul.”

  Holding his cross up, he kisses it.

  “Andrius,” I say, in shock. “I didn’t mean you had to…”

  “I know. I chose to say that to you because I don’t want that crazy idea in your head. Ever. You know what my sister means to me. What her death did to me. It set me on this whole path to finding you. If you think I take that lightly, then you’re dead wrong. I promise you one thing—

  if ever something goes wrong between us, you’ll be the first to know; not the last. I’d end it with you before I looked at anyone else, but it isn’t going to happen. You’re it for me.”

  “You’re it for me, too,” I say
and hug him tight. “You’re my everything, you bastard,” I say on a sob that I can no longer hold in. “So you better come back.”

  He kisses me, and the next moment we’re entwining our tongues, tasting one another and enjoying the heck out of it.

  The passionate kiss soon turns lazy and languid, and then we simply hold one another, breathing in the scent of each other.

  Andrius kisses my forehead and stands, taking me with him. “Get undressed and come lie with me a while,” he says, dropping me carefully to my feet.

  I smile up at him. “Sounds like a good plan.”

  And we do. We get undressed and lay together, cuddled up for a long time. At some point Eliana starts to fuss on the baby monitor, so I go and fetch our daughter, and the three of us snuggle together. For a few precious hours, the outside world fades away.

  **

  The next morning the outside world comes back with a vengeance. Andrius gets up early, checks the bag he packed the day before, and kisses me on the forehead.

  I should get up and see him leave, but I don’t think I can bear to.

  “You going to eat breakfast with me?” he asks.

  My plan to stay in bed and wallow is thwarted by the hesitation in his voice and the need in his eyes. He wants this time with me. Normal family time.

  “Let me fetch Eliana,” I say. “Then we’ll join you in the kitchen.”

  He nods and heads into the shower.

  By the time I have Eliana up and pad my way into the kitchen, Andrius is dressed in a suit, sitting at the table, sipping at a cup of hot black tea. Steam wisps over the top of the cup as he blows on it before bringing the drink to his mouth.

  It’s one of those gray days where you know the sun is never going to make an appearance, and that seems fitting somehow. The light is on in the kitchen, giving the room a cozy glow that belies what this is. An informal sending off party for three warriors about to deliver vengeance and death.

  Priest is sipping at a glass of juice and eating a bowl of muesli. Andrius munches on his toast, and Cassie is flitting around making drinks, generally being busy.