The Cleaner (Born Bratva Book 4)

by Suzanne Steele

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Your blood runs cold, little one.” Glazov’s assessment of me is a compliment as far as I’m concerned, and this time it’s Novak who chuckles and answers.

  “You’re willing to lead your fiancé’s damsel in distress into a house where Oleg will kill all inside?”

  “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to bring an end to a situation that has taken far more time than it should have. I have no intention of working against my soon-to-be husband. I believe this can be done in a way that everyone will get the desired results we all wish to achieve.”

  “Just how the fuck do you plan to accomplish the impossible?” Novak snorts skeptically.

  Glazov presses the button on the intercom to summon Roksana and Oleg. It takes but a moment for them to arrive and take their usual positions just inside the door, awaiting the Pakhan’s orders.

  “Close the door. I have a job for the two of you.”

  Chapter Sixty One

  Nikita

  “So how did it go?” I ask Natasha when she returns from her meeting with my father. She changes the subject by trying to discuss Dad’s plans to import diamonds from Russia.

  “Your father is excited about the diamond business, Novak is still a smart ass, and Roksana and Oleg are going to be forced to work together.”

  “You know damn good and well that’s not what I’m talking about. That tells me exactly nothing. I need to have some idea of what’s happening. Now tell me what you can before I spank that tight little ass of yours.”

  “Threatening me with one of my favorite things, really? Okay…You’re not going to like it but here goes. I want to gather the ring of corrupt cops in one place and take them all out.”

  “Whoa. So Oleg and Roksana are going to help you accomplish this?”

  “Yes, but we need to find Gina Edwards first. I’ve got a plan. Kidnapping may be involved.”

  “Who are you kidnapping?”

  “Gina Edwards. And Jasmine.”

  “You don’t have to abduct Jasmine, I don’t see the point in that. She’s been through enough, don’t you think? Now Gina Edwards is a different story.”

  “Correction…I don’t have to abduct Jasmine as long as she doesn’t know what I plan to do to her.”

  “And that’s why you don’t want to give me details.”

  “You have to trust me, Nikita. I promise you, I’m going to do everything in my power to protect her.”

  “I know you will. But will that be enough?”

  Chapter Sixty Two

  Natasha

  I took Nikita’s advice and resisted the overwhelming urge to abduct Jasmine and scare the shit out of her. Which is a shame, really, because it’s been a while since I’ve been involved in an abduction and I’ve got the itch.

  First and foremost, I need to make sure we know whose side Jasmine is on. We need to know, regardless of how this plan goes down, that she’s working for the right team—ours. How she reacts to what she’s going to witness tonight at the warehouse will tell me all I need to know. By the time she sees Oleg and Roksana doing what they do best, she’ll be willing to do anything we ask.

  As soon as I finished discussing the plan with Nikita, I sent Roksana and Oleg to pick up Gina Edwards. The syringe of sedatives I sent with them will ensure her cooperation.

  Roksana lives for this kind of shit and Oleg lives for Roksana, so everyone wins -- except Gina, of course. But it can’t be helped.

  As we pull up to the warehouse, I look over at Jasmine and try to prepare her for what she’s about to see.

  “This isn’t going to be pretty. It’s one thing to slit a throat or pop a cap on an opponent where you’re in and you’re out. Torture is unlike anything you’ve ever witnessed. This kind of ugly isn’t something you can un-see—it stays with you.”

  Jasmine is trembling but nonetheless seems focused and determined to make it through whatever we have planned. Her voice is surprisingly strong when she replies, “Natasha, honestly, I’m just glad it isn’t me. There, I said it. When I saw those two Russian guys at my door—Well, I just knew they were going to drag me out of there and bring me someplace just like this. I made up my mind then that it was better to have your family as friends and not enemies. Maybe if I pull off what you guys are planning, it will be seen as a gesture of good faith by the man you call Pakhan.”

  “I see you’ve been doing your Bratva homework.

  “Absolutely—knowledge is power.”

  “Yeah, well, what you’re about to see will surely cure you of any foolish ideas about ever going against the Pakhan’s will. Come, they’re waiting for us. No matter what you see, do not speak unless you’re spoken to. Roksana and Oleg are both sadists. When it comes to torture, they take their time and savor the moment. You may avert your eyes if you feel you must.”

  Chapter Sixty Three

  Cop Killer

  I have no idea what I’m walking into. Natasha and Nikita are the only Glazovs I’ve ever met. Though they seem to be willing to help me, I’m seeing an unexpectedly ruthless side of Natasha tonight. If I’m going to get these people to help me I’m going to have to prove I can be trusted, so self-preservation far outweighs my fear.

  It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust as we enter the warehouse. A woman is stretched out on what looks like an operating table and I know right away it’s Gina Edwards. I just don’t know what they’re going to do with her.

  A siren with long, red hair glares at me balefully as if she’d like to see me on that table. This must be Roksana. The tall behemoth next to her isn’t curious about me in the least. He seems mesmerized by the redhead and never looks away from her.

  Roksana swaggers over to me, loosely holding an open switchblade at her side. Fuck! This is not good. She circles me slowly until she’s standing behind me, so close that I can feel her body heat against my back.

  I resist the urge to turn around and look at her. I know she’s establishing dominance and that’s fine by me; the quicker she makes her point, the quicker she’ll return her attention back to the woman on the table. The cold tip of the blade presses against my carotid as she leans in and whispers in my ear.

  “I hear you like to slit throats. Very nice, me too. But you’re my bitch now -- that means you do anything I say without question. It shouldn’t be too hard for you to follow orders if you’re such a cold blooded cop killer, right?” She’s taunting me but I don’t bite.

  A groan from the woman on the table draws Roksana’s attention. She steps away, pausing in front of the massive Russian with the long blonde hair and cold, dead eyes. Her back arches as she raises up on her tiptoes to whisper something in his ear. He looks down at her as she presses her breasts into his side; he’s captivated by her every move. I don’t know what she said to him, but his clenched jaw and raised brow seem to promise delicious retribution later.

  She runs a fingertip slowly down his cheek and purrs the word he seems to have been waiting for.

  “Please…”

  And it begins.

  He places a dental gag in the mouth of the woman on the table and uses an array of dental tools to pull the woman’s teeth. My stomach roils as he rocks each tooth back and forth, widening the socket before severing the root and holding each tooth in front of the woman’s face.

  As she wails and strains against the restraints, he continues his task, his movements methodical and relentlessly efficient. He appears oblivious to her terror and pain. The teeth make a tinny sound as each one hits the kidney-shaped metal bowl. Clearly, this isn’t his first rodeo.

  After what seems like forever, he finishes. The woman’s screams have faded to an occasional gurgle and indistinct moans. He retrieves a syringe from his tray of surgical tools and jams the needle into her neck, sedating her once more. Jesus, he could have done that before he pulled thirty-two teeth out of her damn head.

  The redhead abruptly pulls me from my thoughts, “Now, back to you.”

  Shit.


  “You will return to the hotel now. Ride with Natasha. Oleg and I will follow you. Oh…one more thing. Your information on the layout of the house better be correct, or it’ll be your turn on the table next.”

  Chapter Sixty Four

  Natasha

  I push the button that activates the hidden compartment on the underside carriage of my SUV. I glance up at Jasmine, who’s pale but otherwise seems steady enough. “Well, that went well.”

  “You weren’t kidding about what you said before. Is that guy always so…sinister?”

  “Oleg? Oh, sure. Both of them are. You already know Roksana is Nikita’s sister. Oleg is her fiancé. Glazov is making her marry him.”

  “What the hell? Arranged marriages went out hundreds of years ago.”

  “This is Bratva, hon. Sometimes the old ways are the only way. And it’s not like she isn’t obsessed with the man anyway. I don’t think anyone else could handle her and her father knows that.”

  “Well, it’s obvious he’s in love with her too.”

  “He gets off on the way she torments him and I know she loves doing it. Here, help me pick her up.”

  I grab the woman’s underarms and Jasmine gets her legs and we heave her on to the slab. I shove the drawer back into place.

  “What are you going to do with her now?”

  I smile at her serenely, but it’s a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. I gesture for her to get in the car. As I pull into traffic, I hint, “Oh, we have special plans for Gina that will be revealed soon enough.” The ride is silent until we turn in at the entrance to the hotel parking lot. “You know,” I say as I regard her thoughtfully from the driver’s seat, “when all’s said and done, I hope Glazov doesn’t have you killed. I respect your work ethic,” I say with a smirk.

  “Um, thanks? I appreciate the vote of confidence, but that doesn’t change the fact that my life is hanging in the balance.”

  “No worries,” I say as I lock the car and escort her inside. “In this line of work, you get used to it.”

  Chapter Sixty Five

  Cop Killer

  I stand in the middle of the hotel room with my arms extended out from my sides. There’s minimal conversation, everyone focusing on the various tasks that occupy their thoughts.

  I’m the center of attention this evening, whether I like it or not. I was kept in the dark about tonight’s plans until Roksana took it upon herself to fill me in five minutes ago. For the first time since I started this crazy journey, I’m truly terrified. The smacking sound of duct tape being wrapped around my body grates on my nerves, but not nearly as much as the explosives that are being secured to my midsection.

  The overwhelming sense of panic is like bile rising up in my throat, and I struggle to swallow it down. Sweat trickles down the sides of my face and Roksana seems to be enjoying my show of fear by the way she chuckles. The crazy bitch is starting to piss me off. Seriously, who laughs at a time like this? A crazy Russian psychopath, that’s who.

  “Okay, all done.” She steps back to admire her work and a cold chill runs through me as her eyes meet mine. “Time to get to work. This time you’ll ride with Oleg and me. We wouldn’t want you having second thoughts, would we?”

  ‘Second thoughts’ doesn’t begin to cover what I’m feeling right now.

  We walk solemnly out to the SUVs, a loose jacket concealing the taped explosives that constrict my breathing. As I climb in, Natasha gives me a grim nod from where she stands next to her vehicle.

  We make the journey to the dirty cops’ stash house and park the vehicle in a nearby alley where we wait in silence for the doomed group to assemble. At Roksana’s signal, we get out and she checks my gear one more time before leveling her stony gaze at me. I wonder if she can hear my heart pounding against my ribs. Her eyes narrow as she regards me enigmatically for a long moment. When she finally speaks, she almost sounds human. Almost.

  “Death is your only way out now, tovarishch. Your nightmare is finally over.”

  She’s right. Life as I knew it is over, and has been for a long time. There’s nothing for me now. So this makes sense. It’s the only outcome that makes sense.

  I turn away and walk toward the house. I don’t look back.

  Chapter Sixty Six

  Natasha

  As the flames dance in my rearview mirror, it’s so beautiful that I want to pull over and just take it all in. But there’s no time for that as I speed away from the inferno and turn for home. Glazov’s plan was implemented flawlessly, with everyone doing their part to ensure its success.

  I’m chastened by the knowledge that Emily Finley is no more – and, for all intents and purposes, the same is true for Jasmine. The entire ring of dirty cops was wiped out in an instant, but at such a cost… Much was demanded of our team tonight and Glazov is no doubt pleased that each of us rose to the challenge.

  In the meantime, Nikita has been burning my phone up all night so I know he’s pissed, but that’s how I work—no interruptions. I need to focus to do my job, and I respect the Pakhan’s directive that Nikita’s knowledge of Bratva business be limited to only what the Pakhan wants him to know. I wouldn’t change a thing about how the events of tonight went down -- but there will surely be hell to pay when I get home.

  When I pull up to the mansion, the light in our room is on. Nikita glares down at me from the window in nothing but low-hanging jogging pants. His arms are raised over his head as his hands grip the upper window frame. His arched back gives me a clear view of his powerful chest, the sculpted slabs of muscle on proud display. Fury and carnal heat pour off him as he observes my progress toward the house.

  His plans for the rest of the night are clear, and I mentally prepare for a long, hard ride. My involvement in the Pakhan’s clandestine plan to wipe out Louisville’s dirty cops and put an end to the Cop Killer’s murder spree has put Nikita through hell. I’m sure he felt powerless as he waited for word of my fate. Recent events have disrupted the balance of power in our tumultuous relationship, and I have no doubt that tonight he intends to set things right. Much like his father, Nikita relieves his frustrations via an impressive display of relentless sexual stamina and primal dominance.

  I’m walking into a war zone.

  As soon I drop my purse onto the chair by the bedroom door, he kicks the door shut and backs me up against the wall. Every inch of his torso presses against mine, his thigh forcing my legs apart. Judging by the wild look in his eyes and his labored breathing, this rage has been slowly consuming him all evening. All that remains of my loving protector is a caged animal, driven by pure instinct and the overwhelming need to dominate his mate.

  He presses his forehead to mine and practically growls as he demands, “Is this the way you think it fucking works now, Tasha? You can’t be bothered to take my calls?” His voice becomes strident as he continues, “A building explodes across town, taking out damn near half the police force, but you send my calls to fucking voicemail?!”

  I keep my voice steady and serene, replying, “I was working. You know I don’t like distractions when I’m working.”

  “And I don’t fucking like being ignored, how about that?” A deep breath, then in a softer, grim voice, “I also don’t like worrying, which is what I do when I can’t find my woman.”

  I raise my eyes to his, letting him see my unspoken regret, even though we both know that this will probably happen again. The life I’m making with Nikita was born of my allegiance to the Pakhan. This is the life we live, and every day we choose it anew.

  He runs his hands over my breasts as if feeling the curves of my body for the first time. His gaze halts deliberately on my lips. He runs his thumb roughly across my bottom lip. I can’t resist sucking it into my mouth, laving it with slow, soft strokes of my tongue. He closes his eyes for an instant, his lips pressed into a hard line. I reluctantly let his thumb slide from my lips as he takes a step back. Nostrils flaring and brows furrowed, he draws several ragged breaths before burying his hands in
my hair and slowly, inexorably, pushing me to the ground.

  “On. Your. Knees.” He issues the command in a guttural rasp that sends a frisson of very real alarm down my spine.

  Kneeling before him, I am at eyelevel with the outline of his erection, heavy and thick as it strains against the layer of loose fabric. My mouth waters and a surge of wet heat floods my core at the prospect of pleasuring him this way, but the cruel pressure of his hands gripping my hair leaves me with no delusions about how this is going to go.

  This is my penance for a litany of sins that have come between me and my lover as I’ve struggled to take my rightful place in our cell. Tonight was the culmination of those efforts. My role in the Bratva cell is assured now, but I know I’ve burned bridges here at home.

  Maintaining his grip on my hair, he pulls me closer and quietly orders, “Take it out. Put me in your mouth.”

  I slide his pants over his hips, revealing mouthwatering washboard abs and an insanely sexy V-cut that leads the way to my prize. He kicks the fabric aside and fists his jutting cock, pulling me toward him until the shaft is rubbing against my cheek. I turn my head and slide the flat of my tongue over the heavy veins that run the length of his shaft. My tongue swirls around the wide crown, lapping at the sensitive slit that’s already glistening with his pre-cum.

  I suck him into my mouth in a single, long draw that takes him to the back of my throat. His head falls back when I hum my pleasure and cup his balls. With a groan, he takes over and I’m just along for the ride. His hips thrust powerfully back and forth as he fucks my mouth, chasing the orgasm that pulls his sac tight against his body. He pushes against the back of my throat and moans, shuddering as he comes hard. A steady, seemingly endless burst of semen runs down my throat until it’s dripping over my lips and onto my chin.

  “I wouldn’t move my hands from that wall if I were you.”

  My breath hitches when he releases my hair and pulls me to my feet as he unbuttons my shirt. He swipes his thumb across my lips and slips the digit into my mouth, where I eagerly collect the last traces of his release. With no warning, he rips the fabric down the middle with such force that I jump in surprise.