Second Best (Volkov Bratva Book 1)

by Sam Crescent

  Slavik

  “We ran some blood tests,” the doctor said.

  I didn’t look away from my wife. She was still out of it. I would never forget that cry. It had to be when the bullet hit her that she screamed for help. I heard the fear in her voice, the need.

  When I got to the restaurant, Gus and Aurora had been on the ground. Gus had a stomach wound. Aurora had passed out from the bullet lodged inside her arm. They’d taken her to surgery, removed the bullet, and now she was bandaged up, recovering.

  “What about them?” I asked.

  “Congratulations, Mr. Ivanov, your wife is pregnant.”

  I turned to the doctor. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. Blood work doesn’t lie, and I know you like to be thorough. I double-checked it myself. Your wife is pregnant.”

  I looked at Aurora. This was good news.

  “I would like to start making appointments for your wife’s care—”

  “No,” I said. “You make that disappear.”

  “You want me to perform an abortion on your wife?”

  “No. Those documents, change them. You didn’t discover my wife was pregnant.” I got up from my chair and walked toward him. “That information is between you and me.”

  The doctor looked at Aurora then at me. “Sir, with all due respect, pregnancies can be … difficult. We need to make sure she is healthy.”

  “I will personally keep an eye on her. When I believe the time is right, I’ll let her know she is pregnant. Until then, you will be quiet about this, or do I have to make you realize who is the one with the power here?”

  He bowed his head, submitting to me. Within seconds, he was gone.

  I closed the door to the private room and stared at my wife. The men who’d been shooting at her were gone. All but one, who waited for me back at the warehouse. I should be there rather than here. I had men waiting to guard her. Gus was supposed to protect her. Not that I blamed him. He’d done his best.

  I sat down. This wasn’t what I was supposed to do. My wife would be taken care of.

  So, the first lunch date my wife went on, she was attacked.

  I ran fingers through my hair as I watched her.

  Pregnant. Aurora was pregnant with my child.

  I didn’t know if she was ready to accept that news or if she’d scream at the unfairness of it. Now wasn’t the time to be bringing a child into the world.

  I tapped my fingers on my thigh, waiting. The doctor had said she’d wake up soon and she’d be a bit groggy. I shouldn’t care about how she woke up, but I did.

  Her hand lay by her side.

  Flat.

  Lifeless.

  I never felt anything but anger in all my life. My rage had helped me to fuel my need to win, to fight. To be the best I could be. To be the monster who took lives and made others afraid.

  Arriving at the restaurant and seeing Aurora passed out cold on the ground, I’d known real fear. My wife was becoming a problem because I refused to have feelings. They were a weakness, but my wife, she made me feel so many fucking things, and it wasn’t good.

  She was only a piece of property. My wife to cement Ivan’s place. He wanted the treaty in the hope of one day taking over the Italian mafia. Their hold on their turf was sliding. We knew it, they knew it. Binding to us gave them the added power to scare off attacks, but it also meant in time, we’d own them. They would work for us.

  This was always a careful balancing act of power, and Ivan was the master of it.

  My wife wasn’t supposed to mean anything to me. There was no way I should care if she was out cold or hurt, or injured, or even if someone had fucking upset her. Yet, here I was.

  Andrei had changed the woman he was going to marry. Bethany was no longer by his side. The wedding was happening, but with her sister, Adelaide. No one was going to hurt my wife again.

  She released a moan, and I leaned forward, taking her hand. “Aurora,” I said.

  Her eyes opened then closed. Opened again. I waited for her to get accustomed to the light, and she gasped, sitting up and wincing.

  The doctor had given her enough painkillers to help manage whatever pain she experienced. I couldn’t stand the thought of her hurting.

  Sitting on the bed, she squeezed my hand. “Slavik,” she said. “You came.”

  Even though she was hooked up to wires, she wrapped her arms around me only to gasp as pain likely shot through her system from the bullet wound.

  “You were shot,” I said.

  “Ouch.” She pouted. “How bad is it?”

  “Not bad. They were able to remove the bullet and it didn’t do any lasting damage. You’ve had a few stitches, and you’ll hurt for a short time. Not too long.”

  She looked at her arm. “I remember.”

  “Do you have any idea who would have shot at you?”

  She shook her head. “No. Cara had to leave. She went first. Gus paid the bill and was escorting me out. We waited for the car.”

  “Why wasn’t the car there?” I asked.

  “You’d have to ask Gus. Is he okay?”

  “He’s asleep. The doctors wanted to assess him for the damage.” Gus had been shot in the abdomen, arm, and hand. Severe blood loss had him fighting for his life, but I wasn’t about to tell Aurora.

  “Why would anyone shoot at us? It makes no sense.”

  “A message.” I stroked her hair back from her cheek. These feelings coursing through my body, I had no idea what they meant. They were coming thick and fast. She looked so beautiful. I knew she’d been pretty, regardless of what other people said. They always called her the ugly Fredo, but they clearly didn’t see her, not really. Even I hadn’t at the start.

  Staring at her now, I was … enthralled. Even with the threat of death, she cared more about my men than her own welfare.

  It was stupid of her, but after being around so many selfish people, this was refreshing.

  “I’m so sorry for being a pain. It was only supposed to be a lunch, and now you’ve got all this to deal with.”

  “You have no reason to be sorry.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I doubt that.”

  “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. It hurts, but it’s manageable.” She held up her hand. “Is that because of this?”

  “Yes. You’ll feel it tomorrow when I take you home.” Now that she was awake, I didn’t want to leave her.

  “You’ve got to go and take care of business?”

  “Duty calls,” I said.

  She nodded, and I hated seeing her physically withdraw. I had no idea what was happening. I wasn’t used to having feelings.

  “I’ve got my men right outside the door. They’re going to be here for you. Nothing will happen to you.”

  Nothing was meant to happen to her while she’d been eating lunch and yet, it still had.

  I cupped her cheek, wishing to say more, but nothing would come to me. I wasn’t a good man. I didn’t do nice things. I’d never intended to take a wife. This was supposed to be all about duty and yet, I couldn’t seem to turn it off.

  I stood up and left the room without saying another word. My men knew what would happen to them if they allowed her to be hurt.

  Within seconds, I was out of the hospital, in the back of my car, being driven to the warehouse where the only shooter I’d allowed to live waited.

  Aurora could have died today. I didn’t care about the treaty. Let the streets run red with blood. What I did care about was Aurora. The very thought of anything happening to her filled me with something I wasn’t used to: despair.

  The wrong bullet today, and she could have died. I shouldn’t care. I wasn’t the kind of man to fall for a woman. I used them. Aurora was different, though. I knew from the start she would be. I just didn’t realize how much.

  At the warehouse, my driver put the car into park, and I was out of the vehicle before he got a chance to open the door for me.

  Buttoning up my jac
ket, I entered the warehouse to see the man hung upside down. His personal effects had been displayed on the table for me to see.

  Six of my finest soldiers stood there, keeping guard. I also spotted the spy Ivan used to keep an eye on his brigadiers. He’d been on my land for several months, and so far, he hadn’t caused me trouble, so I was more than happy for him to stay.

  The wallet had been placed open and I saw his name was Ewan Smith. “Hello, Ewan,” I said.

  “Fuck you.”

  “You’re very vocal for a dead man,” I said.

  I left the torture devices on the table. When it came to getting information out of people, I didn’t go for elaborate or dramatic. Plain old kitchen and garden tools worked just fine for me. A hammer or sledgehammer to crush bones. Knives for obvious work. Pliers for the fiddlier work. Plain old twine used to repair fences were great and cut through flesh with enough pressure. I even enjoyed shears.

  I dragged the chair over to stare at the man.

  Spit was an issue for me, so I kept a distance.

  “Fuck you, man. I’m not going to talk. You can’t fucking make me. You’re a piece of shit.”

  I’d turned the chair so I straddled the back. My chin rested on my hands as I watched him.

  Patience.

  When I didn’t talk, he went a little crazy, trying to pull himself away from the binds. The bastard was hung upside down.

  “Let me go! You’re all going to be dead men. All of you.”

  “Do you know Aurora Ivanov?” I asked.

  He looked like he wanted to argue but finally answered. “She’s your wife.”

  “Do you know the woman you shot at today?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who was she?”

  “A problem,” he said.

  “So you were aiming for the woman today.”

  “I’m not the boss, mate. I was given orders. Today, after a redhead strolls out, the next person waiting for a car, we were to shoot. No questions asked. There was no other target. Aim to kill. That was all.”

  This was odd. I tapped a finger on my thigh. “You’re a bounty hunter?”

  “More like an assassin for hire. I was part of a team of men. You killed them all today.”

  “Any relation to the Fredo family?” I asked.

  “Never heard of them.”

  I found this hard to believe. “You are part of a bunch of assassins for hire and yet you don’t even know who the Fredo family are. They are my wife’s family. The woman you were asked to kill today, she is my wife.”

  “Fuck, man, I know who you are, but I’m just a fucking minion. Okay? You killed the guy with all the details. I got nothing. Let me go. I will find out what you need me to find out.”

  His entire outfit was unprofessional.

  I stood up and moved to the toys.

  I should be getting a medal for all the restraint I’d shown today. I picked up the knife first. A plain old kitchen knife.

  This man nearly took my wife from me. A woman I was convinced I didn’t care about, but deep in the back of my mind, I knew that to be false.

  Aurora … did something to me. I didn’t have any answers, but my anger flooded my body and I reacted, plunging the knife into his stomach. I pulled it out and repeated the action five more times all around his body.

  The blood dripped onto the cement floor. In my mind, all I saw was Aurora, heavily pregnant with my child, but with blood coming from a bullet wound in her chest. She could have died.

  Dead.

  The end.

  Lifeless.

  A corpse.

  Ewan was dead long before I finished with him. His body nothing more than a mangled mess.

  I stepped back, and the cleaning crew were already on standby to deal with it.

  I was covered in blood. I stripped off my clothes and left the scene, going to the single shower which was last on the cleanup list.

  Beneath the cold spray of water, I knew this wasn’t Fredo’s doing. Whoever hired these men to kill Aurora were novices. I needed to find out if they were related to the banquet attack, and also, who had hired them to take out my woman.

  Aurora meant nothing in the Bratva world. She was under my protection as my wife. Her power came from me. Why take her out unless they were trying to get to me through my wife? And that only served to piss me off even more.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Aurora

  “This is very unattractive,” I said. “I look a mess.”

  “Because of your bandaged arm?”

  “Look at it.” I wrinkled my nose, indicating the clean bandage the doctor had applied. I’d pulled out my arm stitches by being in the kitchen. When the doctor said no heavy lifting, what he actually meant was to do nothing.

  I couldn’t sit around all day doing nothing.

  “You’re going to be fine.”

  “I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb. No, sore arm. It’s my arm that’s the injured party. Look at it.”

  Slavik laughed.

  I glared at him.

  He’d been so attentive the last few days. I hated how easy it was to enjoy his company. Nothing was ever a rush for him, and he’d been annoyed with me for hurting my arm. Sex hadn’t happened.

  He didn’t even have to go out to work. He stayed at the penthouse, on a laptop and his cell phone, while I walked around him. Swimming was a no, as was working out.

  My arm put a dent in my weight-loss plans. Slavik also didn’t help. He ordered takeout from a nice Italian place. Their pastas were heavenly and well, I’d gained a couple of pounds. My clothes weren’t tight, but my arm hindered me.

  We were heading to Andrei and Adelaide’s wedding. I hadn’t seen a picture of the bride. She’d taken over from Bethany without a hitch. All I knew, the woman was a few years younger than Bethany.

  The last place I wished to go was to a wedding. My own wedding had been enough of an ordeal to get through, but Slavik insisted. All the Volkov brigadiers were going, and I was going as Slavik’s wife.

  “You know, this morning I woke up feeling a little sick. I told the doctor about it when he came to repair the stitches. He said it’s a little bug going around. Nothing to alarm myself with. I don’t think I should leave.”

  “If he thought you were contagious, he would’ve advised me to keep you home.”

  No matter what I seemed to say to this man, we were going to this wedding. We’d already taken the plane ride. I hated planes and being in the sky. Anything with heights terrified me.

  Slavik offered me the window seat, which I declined. I didn’t need to be reminded for an hour flight that I was above ground. Now firmly on the ground, we were traveling to our hotel. Two cars were in front, two at the back.

  We would stay at the hotel tonight, and tomorrow was the wedding. I was supposed to be a bridesmaid. This was all news to me. Slavik had blurted out that news to me as we got in the car. The dress waited for me to try on at the hotel room.

  The last thing I wanted was to be a bridesmaid to a woman I didn’t know. This was Bethany’s sister.

  I leaned back, resting my hand on my stomach. I’d thrown up this morning. The sickness had struck me hard. After some dry toast, I felt a little better. The coffee I’d made for myself set it off again. I ended up drinking water.

  “Are you okay?” Slavik asked.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to lie. I went for the truth. “No. I feel sick. My arm hurts. I refuse to take pain medication. I’m going to a wedding I don’t wish to attend. I’m now going to be a bridesmaid for a woman I’ve never met. Yeah, everything is great.” The sarcasm dripped from my tone, and I froze.

  I realized who I spoke to and I wished the ground would open up and swallow me.

  I chanced a glance at Slavik to find him smiling. “It’s cute to watch you panic.”

  “This isn’t funny.”

  “It’s hilarious. You’re the first woman in my life to be honest with me.”

  “I find that hard to bel
ieve.”

  “Most people hate me, remember?”

  “No, they don’t hate you. They fear you. It’s different.” I’d been hated most of my life, or not liked. Do not go down that morbid self-pitying hole, Aurora. I forced a smile to my lips.

  “Do you fear me?” he asked.

  “Sometimes.”

  “You have no reason to fear me.”

  “You’re my husband.”

  “And I will protect you.”

  “Unless you feel I’m trouble for Ivan Volkov. I know my value only exists while I play nice. If I cause you or the Volkov Bratva trouble, my days are numbered.”

  “Do you have any reason to risk your life?”

  “No. I intend to live a long and happy prison sentence.” I slapped my hand across my mouth.

  “You find being with me a prison sentence.”

  I winced. “No. It’s … I meant my family.”

  “Aurora, I’m not an idiot.”

  “It’s not a prison sentence, okay? I didn’t mean it like that and I know it sounded like that, but I promise, it wasn’t.”

  I’d screwed up.

  “You’re a guy in this world. You wouldn’t understand what I meant. It’s different for men.”

  “Try me. I don’t see much different. You were ordered to get married to me. I was instructed to marry you. We both serve the Volkov Bratva. Our roles are different, but we’re the same.”

  “You can do what you want,” I said.

  “Elaborate.”

  My mouth went dry. “If you wanted a mistress or other women, you’d have them. I couldn’t do anything about it. I could scream and get angry. You killed Sergei for kissing me. We weren’t having an affair. You didn’t see Cara as a threat. It’s why she’s still walking around. You get to do things. I … stay at your apartment. I have no purpose. I’m not allowed to go to college, or get a job.”

  “Do you want those things?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I think I’d like the option.”

  Slavik continued to stare at me, and I averted my gaze. The early part of our marriage was a nightmare, no doubt about it. There was no love, not even conversation. We’d cohabited the same space.

  Now, nearly ten months together, we’d changed. We talked, made love, fucked, and spent time together. Not just for the cameras either, or the spies. I enjoyed his company. He didn’t scare me. I never believed he’d hurt me, not really.