Chosen by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 9)

by Hayley Faiman

  “Are you ready for this?” Yakov murmurs as we walk up Maxim’s sidewalk. My only response is to grunt.

  The door opens before any of us can knock, and Maxim stands in front of us, his angry gaze pointed directly on me. He moves to the side allowing the men past him but places his hand on my chest to stop me from entering the home.

  “If you don’t want her, turn your fucking ass around right now,” he growls.

  Lifting my chin, I state. “I want her, Maxim.”

  “Enough to fight for her if you need to? I have a feeling her father will not make this easy. You have been gone for weeks. He expected you to come and petition for her contract much sooner.”

  Shoving my hands in my pockets, I ball my fists. “I know he won’t,” I admit through gritted teeth. “She’s mine though. She’s chosen me and I her. Whatever hoops he needs me to jump through, I’ll fucking do it.”

  “Good,” Maxim says, jutting his chin out. “I have a feeling that you’ll need to get your jumping shoes on,” he grins before he steps to the side and lets me walk past him.

  Maxim leads me through the house where I see the rest of the men I arrived with congregated around the dining room table. Kirill is seated in the middle on one side, and there is an empty chair directly across from him. It feels like a fucking movie, like he’s the goddamn godfather and if it weren’t such a serious moment—I might fucking laugh.

  “Sit,” he states.

  I do, never taking my gaze from his. I stay glued to his gray eyes, ones that match my Kiska’s so very much and it makes my heart ache. I miss her. Now that I’m not drowning myself in booze, I realize exactly how much I truly do miss her.

  She was the bright spot in my life, for the short time she was mine. This beautiful creature that was forbidden to me, but she made my body, mind, and soul at ease. I’ve never felt that way before in my life. At ease. It was a new experience and not only do I crave it, I miss it.

  “I’ve given Kiska a dossier of candidates to choose from. She seems happy that she was given the choice and has been mulling over two men that I approve of,” Kirill begins, and I can’t hold back my growl at his words. “Did you have a proposition for me?” he asks with a smirk.

  “No contract,” I state. Kirill’s eyes narrow but he stays silent. “Kiska is my woman. She’s free to do as she wishes, but she’ll be under my protection. If she wants to get married later, then we’ll marry.”

  Kirill’s face starts to turn red and Radimir chuckles behind him, knowing that what I’m proposing is preposterous, especially for a Pakhan’s daughter. “You’re fucking disrespectful,” Kirill shouts as he stands and leans over the table.

  I stay silent and just watch him. “Why does an eighteen-year-old woman with aspirations such as Kiska’s need to be married, or be contracted?” I ask.

  “You’re suggesting I just hand her over to you. You’re suggesting I give her to you to use, to play house with, and I goddamn fucking refuse. Who will want her when you’re finished? You going to put her in your stable?”

  His last sentence is the last straw. I stand, leaning over the table as well, my nose practically touching his. “If you think I would put my woman, my Kiska, to work in my stable then fuck you, Baryshev. I love her. She’s mine, and I would torture any man who even attempted to touch her,” I growl.

  He smirks. “Yeah? Where have you been? You haven’t been acting like her man, you’ve been acting like a goddamn spoiled brat,” he sneers.

  “I’m done with you. I’m done with all of this,” I state, stepping back from Kirill and the table.

  He laughs, though it’s completely humorless. “Running away so easily?”

  I shake my head from side-to-side. “No. I’m going to get my woman, and I’m bringing her home. Where she belongs.”

  “You do that, and I’ll give the order to kill you for your insubordination.”

  I lift my chin toward Timofei and give him a questioning glance. He lowers his head, and that’s when I know that he would do it. He would kill me if I took my woman and went home if Kirill ordered the hit.

  “What do you want?”

  Kirill pins me with his glare. “I want to ensure her safety. I need to know that my daughter will always be taken care of. I need a good man, and a strong man to treat her the way she deserves,” he murmurs.

  “Akim was this man?” I snort.

  Kirill shakes his head. “Not in the slightest. An oversight on my part. It doesn’t mean that I’m going to let that shit happen again though. Which is why I’m not letting her go anywhere without my fucking permission.”

  “And these other men, they’re worthy of her? They’ll allow her to dance and have her career for as long as she wishes it? They’ll support her in every single thing she wishes to achieve in this life? Those are the kind of men you’ve found?” I shout.

  Kirill flinches, and I watch as his eyes lower slightly.

  “I think…” Maxim begins.

  “I fucking know what you think, Max,” Kirill grunts.

  He turns back to me. “I draw up a contract with terms we can compromise on. You’ll sign it.” He says the words like a statement, not as though they’re a question.

  I want to tell him to fuck off. That no, I won’t sign a goddamn thing, but the truth of the matter is that I want her. I love her. And if this is the only way that I can have her. I’ll sign his fucking piece of paper.

  “I’ll sign it,” I grind out.

  “Come back here tomorrow, it will be ready,” he states, lifting his chin.

  I clench my jaw tightly and place my hands on my hips. “I want to see her tonight,” I grind.

  “After the contract is signed, you may take her out for a few hours,” he shrugs.

  Bronislav wraps his hand around my bicep and holds it tightly, leaning in he whispers, “Don’t fuck yourself over, brother.”

  I grunt and lift my chin. Turning away from the entire group, I walk out of the house toward the car. Fuck Kirill, the bastard. The fucking bastard. I’m only outside for a few minutes when the rest of my group appears. I slide inside of the SUV as do the rest of the men. The ride back to the hotel is silent, and I’m thankful for it, grateful even. There has already been too much talking for my taste today.

  I’m surprised to come home at eleven in the evening, to find my house full of not only my own family, but Maxim, Radimir, Yakov, and Timofei. My eyes dart around to see if Konstantin is with them. My shoulders deflate instantly. They all look at me, silently watching me as I venture farther into the room.

  “Kiska,” Timofei murmurs before he stands and walks over to me. I suck in a breath of surprise when he envelopes me in a gentle hug. “All will be okay,” he nods.

  My body is stiff, and I let out a non-committal sound from the back of my throat. I really want everything to be okay, but I know that is a lie. Konstantin and I will never be together; therefore, nothing will ever be okay. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to rid myself of the doomsday thoughts and instead plaster on a fake smile.

  “Go to your room, Kiska,” my father grunts.

  Lifting my chin to him, I do exactly as he demands. I have no desire to figure out why in the fuck these people are here. I’m tired from wearing myself out, and all I want to do is shower and go to bed. I make my way into my room, locking the door behind me. Without bothering to turn on the light, I start to peel my clothes off, leaving a trail from the door to the bathroom. Blindly, I find the water and start it before I decide to finally turn the light on.

  A hand clamps around my mouth and I look up, a scream escaping into the hand before my body relaxes, then my heart starts to race. Konstantin is looking down at me, his dark gaze fixed on mine. My body trembles as he releases my mouth.

  “Konstantin,” I whisper.

  He nods as his hands reach out for me, wrapping around my waist and tugging me forward. I press my breasts against his shirt-covered chest, and my entire body shivers in his arms. I’ve missed him. “What ar
e you doing here?”

  “I missed you, sladkaya,” he breathes.

  Pressing my lips together, I do my best not to call bullshit against his statement. He watches me, lifting his hand to cup my cheek, his rough thumb sliding across my bottom lip. “I’m an ass for staying away from you for so long. I fucked up. I’m sorry, Kiska. Can you forgive me?”

  I nod, unable to speak but instead just taking him in. He looks like shit. He looks tired, and he looks hungover. “Have you been sleeping?” I ask.

  “I could ask you the same. I don’t even have to ask you if you’ve been eating. You’ve lost more weight,” he grunts.

  Ignoring his observation, I lift my chin. “What happens now?” I ask on an exhale.

  “Now? Now we figure out the rest of our lives. I just had to see you tonight, sladkaya.”

  Lifting my hands, I fist his shirt and hold onto him tight. “Don’t leave me, please don’t go,” I beg.

  Konstantin presses his lips to mine. I open my mouth immediately, gladly accepting his tongue as it sweeps through me. He tastes me, every fucking part of me, and I want more. I want so much more. I want it all. He pulls away slightly and nibbles on my bottom lip before he speaks.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Kiska. Tomorrow, I’ll pick you up, and we’re going on a date. I’ll explain everything then,” he smiles.

  “Promise me you’ll come back,” I stupidly beg.

  I should be so pissed at him that I refuse to speak to him again. But, I’m so damn happy to see him that all I want to do is kiss and hold him. Then, maybe tomorrow I’ll yell at him and demand answers.

  “Swear to you, sladkaya, I fucking vow it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  His lips press against mine for just a moment, not lingering too long before he releases me and turns, leaving me. I watch as he crawls out of my bedroom window and then he’s gone. I press my hand to my lips, stifling a giggle at the fact that Konstantin, who is over thirty, just climbed out of my bedroom window. It’s somehow hilarious to me. Turning back to the running water, I jump inside and take a quick shower.

  Once I’m finished, I put on my pajamas, and slide into bed. I lay my head on my pillow and stare at the ceiling. Suddenly, at least in this moment, I feel hope again. Maybe, just maybe, everything will work out.

  Rolling to my side, I place my hand under my cheek and close my eyes. I’m probably hoping for too much, but I don’t care. I want my happily ever after, and I want it with Konstantin. I’m not letting him leave Los Angeles without me.

  The next morning I’m up and dressed, wearing real clothes instead of dance clothes. I can’t remember the last time I wore something other than pajamas or leotards. Walking out of my bedroom, I make my way to the kitchen and suck in a breath when I see my father.

  “You’re not heading to the studio?” he asks, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Pressing my lips together, I make my way over to the fridge for some breakfast. “You not talking to me?”

  “What were they all doing here last night?” I ask.

  My father hums as he lifts his coffee to his lips. I let my hand fall from the refrigerator handle and stare at him, waiting to see if he’ll actually answer me. His eyes look directly at me, his face serious and he lifts his chin to the breakfast table. When he turns around and walks toward it, sitting down, I follow behind him. Sitting down across from him, I wait.

  “You’ve chosen a man from the dossiers that I’ve supplied you?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

  My eyes snap to his. “Papa,” I breathe.

  “You have?”

  I close my eyes for a brief moment. “You know that I have,” I whisper.

  “Konstantin has come to me, wishing to negotiate a contract,” he admits. I can’t hide my surprise. I knew that he was here, of course, but a contract? I didn’t think it was possible. Not him, not Konstantin.

  Shaking my head, I focus on him before I speak. “I won’t allow it,” I state. He opens his mouth, but I interrupt him. “Konstantin is only doing this to appease you. He doesn’t want it, and I can’t believe that you would make him. He came for me, Papa, just let me go back home,” I whisper.

  My father’s eyes flash, and I watch as disbelief, then anger washes through them. “Damn straight he’s doing it to appease me. I will not leave you unprotected, Kiska. You may not like the way I protect you, but I will protect you.”

  “Konstantin loves me, we don’t need a contract. He’s who I choose, and he has chosen me,” I murmur.

  My father shakes his head in obvious annoyance before he speaks again. “I could give a fuck, Kiska. You will follow my rules. You are my daughter,” he growls. “If Konstantin and I can’t come to an agreement. You will marry one of the other men.”

  I slam my hand on the table, my anger taking over, as I stand and lean over slightly. “If you think that Konstantin is leaving here without me, you have another thing coming. It will not happen. My mother is not the only one who can disappear.”

  My father’s hand flashes out and slaps me across the face. It’s the first time he’s ever raised his hand to me, but it’s also the first time I’ve truly defied him. Turning my head back to face him I narrow my eyes, looking directly into his.

  “It’s no threat. It’s a fucking promise,” I seethe. Standing straight, I turn and walk away from him, heading back to my bedroom. I close the door behind me and lock it.

  Closing my eyes, I let the tears fall as I place my hand on my cheek. It’s warm to the touch, and no doubt red from his strike. Fuck him. I’m eighteen years old, and maybe in the eyes of the Bratva he owns me, but in the eyes of this country, he doesn’t. I’m an adult. I’ll do what I want. I’ll be with who I want. His desires be damned.

  STANDING IN FRONT OF Maxim’s house. I throw my cigarette to the ground and step on it with the toe of my shoe. This is it. This is the contract negotiations. I can feel the sweat break out against my forehead, and I wrap my hand around the back of my neck and let out a breath.

  “You ready for this? Ready to get your woman back?” Bronislav asks walking up behind me.

  “Not ready to sign anything, but for her, I will,” I mutter.

  Bronislav shakes his head on a chuckle. “You’re as in love as I am, which means you’re fucked.”

  “I am,” I admit.

  Ringing Maxim’s doorbell, I’m surprised when Haleigh answers. She’s standing in front of me, a smile on her face as her eyes meet mine. “I’m glad you finally got yourself together,” she grins, with a soft voice.

  I grunt as my response which only makes her laugh a little more. “Kiska has been a mess. I was starting to get worried you wouldn’t come,” she admits.

  My heart aches at her words. She stands to the side and lets us pass, but I can’t get that ache out of my chest. I can’t get the thought of Kiska hurting because of me—because I ignored her and caused her such pain. It kills me.

  “This has all been difficult,” she continues as she walks toward Maxim’s office. “I hope that it’s all solved today.”

  I lift my chin, agreeing with her, but almost afraid to speak. I want it to be over and done with today too. I’m just not sure that it will have the outcome that I desire. Kirill has made it very clear that things must be his way, one hundred percent. There will be no negotiations, it will be his contract and either I sign it or Kiska is given to another man.

  Apparently, she’s already chosen another, so it’s not as though he fucking needs me to take her. I snort. Like I’m going to allow that fucking shit. Kiska is mine. She gave herself to me, and I’m not willing to just let her go—not again. I’ve stepped away from her two times too many, and it will not happen again.

  “Are you going to stand in the doorway all fucking day or are you going to come in?” Maxim grunts.

  Lifting my chin, I step into the office. Bronislav follows behind me and closes the door. Maxim, Kirill, and Timofei are waiting. This meeting is smaller than the one yesterday, and I’m glad for it. Maxim i
s leaning against the wall, Kirill is behind the desk, and there is an empty chair directly across from him. I walk straight over to it and sit down, my eyes staying connected to his.

  “The contract was drawn up last night after much discussion of the terms. I feel as though these will be satisfactory for all parties involved,” he murmurs.

  I take the file and open it. There is only one piece of paper, and I’m surprised that it isn’t more lengthy.

  Holding my pen to the paper my eyes scan the document. It’s pretty plain, and it makes me curious as to why there are no contingencies that could make it void, on either part, Kirill’s or my own. Timofei glances at it over my shoulder, and I hear him hum, he’s probably thinking the same thing that I am.

  “You aren’t signing it,” Kirill announces.

  I study him, wondering why he’s doing all of this. Why he’s essentially, with this contract, giving Kiska her dreams, all of a sudden. I don’t have a problem with her fulfilling her dance career, but he was only willing to give her three years before, why is his tune suddenly changing. Then there’s the fact that I’ll be forced to move to Los Angeles when she’s finished dancing, uprooting my career, and leaving my men and my stable behind to another Brigadier.

  “These are a lot of demands, and all of them satisfy you,” I murmur.

  Kirill narrows his eyes sitting up a little straighter. I hear Maxim clear his throat from behind him. “I’m giving you my daughter. Are you fucking serious right now?” he growls.

  “You’re allowing me to marry her, but on your terms and your terms alone. You’re choosing when we can have children, you’re choosing where we reside. Do you think of me as some weak piz`da who will just roll over and do what you wish?” I ask, keeping my tone even and calm.

  Kirill takes the contract from my hand and tears it in two. His face is red with anger, but I can do nothing but watch him, curious as to what he will do, or say, next.

  “Now, Kirill,” Maxim mutters.

  “You are not worthy of Kiska. You are not worthy of my power,” he shouts as his palm slams against the desk.