Hating the Bratva

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Hating the Bratva Page 3

by K. D Clark


  That's the closest thing to an answer I'm going to get from him. He searches my eyes as if looking for something, and then I do something idiotic. I lift onto my tip-toes and kiss him. He doesn't kiss me back at first, probably because I've caught him off guard. He quickly recovers and grabs me around the waist. I let out a surprised breath as he pulls my petite body flush against his sculpted one. He takes control of the kiss, and I let him guide me. I melt into his arms loving the way his body feels against mine. He pulls away too fast, leaving me breathless and dizzy.

  "Fuck, I shouldn't have done that."

  I shrug as if unfazed by the best kiss I've ever had. "Technically, I did it."

  "I don't think your father would see it that way."

  "You're above him in rank anyway. Plus, he doesn't have to know."

  His lips twitch. "You're trouble."

  I manage to keep my lips to myself the rest of the tour. Alek let me pick out the hardwood floors, paint, and some other decor options before he drove me home. I was surprised to see Dad's car in the driveway. Alek and Dad went into his office to talk. I didn't bother eavesdropping because I was too busy texting Robin about what happened and getting homework done. I heard the front door shut a couple of hours later, and I went to the window to watch Alek drive away.

  *****

  Raised voices wake me from my sleep. They're coming from downstairs, and it takes me a minute to recognize them as my parents. They're trying to keep quiet, but I can still pick up bits and pieces. My parents never argue anymore. The sun streams through my sheer white curtains. I roll over and check my phone on the bedside table. Ten a.m, Saturday. I drop the phone and rub a hand over my face. I have plans with Robin tonight to go to a party close to campus, but other than that, I plan to spend the day relaxing. Nursing school takes up a massive chunk of my time, and Saturday is my only free day. I spend Sundays catching up on homework, and I have clinicals twice a week. As I move through the program, the clinical's will increase. I leisurely climb out of bed and make my way downstairs. The sound of my parent's whisper-yells increases, but I don't pay them much attention as I walk into the kitchen. Stella, our housekeeper, wipes down the counter.

  "Hey, Stella," I yawn.

  She turns around and gives me a tight-lipped smile. Her straight jet-black hair is pulled up into a tight bun at the top of her head. She still wears her signature red apron around her small waist. Which means she just finished cooking breakfast not long ago.

  "Good morning. Breakfast is over, but I can whip you up something," Stella suggests. I wave her off. Stella has taken care of our home since I was practically a baby, I think of her more like family than my parents' employee.

  "I'm okay. Can you just toss me a pop-tart?"

  She scowls me but turns around and opens the cabinet behind her anyway. I catch the blueberry pop-tart she tosses to me and immediately start to unwrap it.

  "You know one day all that junk food is going to catch up with you."

  "And when it does, I'll still be fabulous."

  She rolls her eyes and turns back around to finish wiping down the counter. I finish one pop tart and pick up my second one when my mom comes around the corner. An irritated expression manages to grace her botox face.

  "Delaney. Your father and I would like to speak with you."

  I swallow. "Yeah, sure."

  I look to Stella for help, but she continues cleaning the kitchen as if she hasn't heard anything. I leave the pop-tart on the island and follow after my mom. What the hell could they want to talk about? Did they find out that I kissed Alek last night? They couldn't have. The only way they'd know is if Alek told them, and there's no way in hell that happened. We turn the corner, and down the hall, we end up in front of my dad's office. Mom opens the door and gestures for me to come inside. My dad sits in the leather chair on the other side of the desk. A drinking glass is next to him. My dad never drinks anymore, not even when we're at one of those events where the liquor flows like water.

  "What's going on?" I ask, looking between my parents.

  "Take a seat, Delaney," he says.

  I shake my head. "No way, whats-"

  "For once in your life, will you listen?!" he barks, causing both me and Mom to jump.

  "Denis," Mom hisses in a warning.

  Dad uses two fingers to massage the bridge of his nose.

  "Delaney, please sit down," he says, softer this time, but I pick up on his Russian accent that he lets slip. He's good at keeping it hidden in public but not so good when he's drinking. I lower myself into the chair across from him. Silence fills the room before he speaks.

  "As you know, it's a tradition that a man is chosen for your hand in marriage."

  My shoulders visibly relax. This is it? They're going to tell me that Alek and I will be getting married. But it can't be that easy. If it were that simple, the tension in the room wouldn't feel so suffocating. My parents like Alek. My marriage to him is no surprise. I wait for my dad to continue. He downs the rest of his drink before staring right into my eyes.

  "You will be marrying Ivan."

  My body goes ice-cold. I must have misheard him.

  "Ivan requires a wife." There's that word again, Ivan. Not Alek. This can't be true. Somethings wrong. There's been a mistake. I swear my heart stops beating. Dad keeps talking, but I can't hear a word he's saying. The room starts to spin, and then everything goes dark.

  Alek

  Meet me at my office in an hour.

  I re-read the text message I got this morning from Gavrill before sliding the phone back into my pocket. I’m a couple of minutes late, but he didn’t give me much warning. Mikhail is sitting in a lounge chair in the common area of the clubhouse. I slap hands with him.

  “Need anything?” I ask. Working on the intelligence side of the business is usually a quieter job. Often, I sit at home, making phone calls to my Vor’s to get updates on how the product is moving along. I’m naturally more interested in the arms dealing business since that’s where I got my start. Other days I’m going to meetings with distributors and other brotherhoods. That’s when I have to be on guard, and the reason I still hit the gym six days a week. I’m more of a manager than anything else, which is why it makes sense for me to step into the role of Pakhan. I have all the connections, and I’ve proven I can lead the brotherhood.

  Mikhail shakes his head. “Nothing new going on here. I just had to stop by.”

  “Alright I’ll see you around.”

  I walk past him to Gavrill’s door and knock.

  “You’re late,” he says. I open the door and step inside. His eyes watch me as I take a seat across from him.

  “My apology.”

  He scoffs. “Back in my day, if I were late to a meeting with my Pakhan, I’d have the shit beat out of me.”

  “Well I guess I’m lucky we’re not back in your day.”

  “Guess so,” he lifts his coffee cup to his mouth and takes a sip.

  “So what’s the news, old man?”

  He sits the cup down and lets out a short laugh. “Watch it there. I can still drop your ass faster than you can blink.”

  I roll my eyes.

  He clears his throat, his eyes turning from playful to more serious. I sit up straighter in my chair.

  “There’s some news that’s going to come out soon, and I wanted to tell you first, so you aren’t taken by surprise.” He takes another sip of his coffee. “The Miami brotherhood is on our back, as you know.”

  “Yeah, because of that idiot Ivan.”

  He nods. “Exactly. So I came up with a solution.”

  This should be good. I lean back in my chair.

  “We’re marrying Ivan off.”

  I scoff. “The Miami brotherhood isn’t going to give a fuck about him being a married man. He went down there and fucked someone’s wife. They have a right to kill-”

  It dawns on me what he just said; marriage. Ivan is going to get married.

  “To who?” I grit out between c
lenched teeth. Gavrill narrows his eyes at me but doesn’t answer.

  I slam my fists down on the desk, making everything on it shake.

  “Who?” I seethe.

  Gavrill stands to his feet and puts both hands on the desk.

  “You know who, Alek.”

  I stand up so fast the chair I was sitting in flips over. There’s no fucking way. I pace back and forth as I try to process what the fuck he just told me. Delaney and Ivan. Delaney and Ivan. Delaney and fucking Ivan.

  “Delaney is mine,” I growl to no one in particular. Everyone knows it. I’d become Pakhan, and she’d be my wife. That’s how this was supposed to pan out. But, fucking Ivan. I don’t want her near that piece of shit, much less marrying him.

  “Miami will see that we have him under control.”

  “Miami will see that he’s not fucking dead, and he’s marrying my girl.”

  Gavrill doesn’t say anything. He allows me to try to process this bullshit information.

  “And she knows?” I ask.

  He nods once. So after I had my lips on hers last night, they decided to promise her to someone else.

  “And what about me? I need a wife to be Pakhan. Unless you plan on handing that off to Ivan too?”

  He glares at me. A warning that I’m getting out of hand. But my Russian temper runs hot through my veins.

  “We’ll find someone else for you.”

  Yeah, right, as if another woman could just replace Delaney. Gavrill’s betrayal hits me deeply. I shot him one last look before storming out of the office. It’s better that I keep my mouth close than to get killed today.

  *****

  The buzzing of my phone on the nightstand wakes me up. No one has called me within the last day. After the bombshell that was dropped on me on Saturday, it seems like everyone has stayed clear. Denis, Delaney’s dad, name flashes across the screen. I swipe to answer and press the phone against my ear before laying back against the pillows.

  “Alek,” I answer.

  “I know you’re not the person I should probably be calling.”

  I sit up at the sound of his panicked voice.

  “What happened?” I balance the phone on my shoulder as I get out of bed and walk towards my closet.

  “She didn’t come home Saturday night. She went out but never came back. She was upset, so I assumed she spent the night with a friend.”

  I pull the phone away from my ear and check the time. It’s three am on Monday.

  “She has class on Monday, and it’s not like her to be gone still. I’d go looking for her, but...”

  He’s a senator. The press closely monitors everything he does, and the last thing we want them to find out is that the senator’s daughter has gone missing. It would be on the front page of every damn newspaper.

  “You should have called me on Saturday night,” I practically growl into the phone. I grab a pair of jeans off the hanger and pull them on. After I dropped Delaney off on Friday night, I spend some time talking business with Denis in his office. He never once mentioned Delaney being promised to Ivan, but now I wonder if he knew the whole time.

  “Did you know?” I ask, grabbing a black shirt and a hoodie from my drawer and throwing them on.

  He stays silent, and that’s all the answer I need.

  “And you’re okay with her marrying him?”

  “No I’m not okay with it, but my hands are tied. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

  “Say fucking no. Tell Gavrill that she’ll only marry Ivan over your dead body.”

  If we reversed the situation, there’s no way I’d let my daughter marry someone like Ivan. He’s notorious for being a scumbag.

  “I’ll find her,” I say, hanging up the phone because his response, would just piss me off more, and the last thing I need to do is put my hands on a senator.

  I jam my phone, wallet, and keys in my pocket and head downstairs to where my temporary office is set up until the construction team is finished with the room. I start up the computer, annoyed with how long the thing takes. It’s only minutes before I can pull up all Delaney’s phone records, including her text messages. There’s a reason I’m in charge of the intelligence side of the business. I can find out anything about anybody with just the stroke of the keyboard. I click on the text messages between her and someone named Robin.

  Robin: Are you ready to go yet?

  Delaney: No, I’m staying the night. There’s no way I’m going back home.

  Robin: Seriously???

  Delaney: I’ll crash with Kevin.

  I clench my teeth together as I read that message. Who the fuck is Kevin, and why does she think it’s okay to spend the night with him? I’ll kill him when I get my hands on the kid.

  No more playing around. I do a bit more research, and I’m able to get a signal on her phone. She’s near her school at some house. What the hell are you doing, Delaney? But even as I ask myself the question, I know exactly what she’s doing. She’s trying to run. I can’t blame her. I save the address of the house on my phone and get into my car.

  It takes nearly forty-five minutes to get there, and my mind has been going through every single scenario the whole time. What if Kevin is one of those high-class frat boys who slipped something in her drink? Maybe Kevin’s a girl, but that’s unlikely. She has to know that someone will find her. Nicolai is usually always watching her, but she must have lost him. That almost makes me smile.

  I pull up to a tiny cape style house. College kids litter the lawn with red cups clenched in their hands. The homes are pretty spread out here, and I assume that’s the only reason the neighbors haven’t called the cops on a handful of college kids partying at three a.m on a Sunday night. I guess this is what college kids do. I wouldn’t know since I never went. I slam the car into Park and get out. The air shifts as I walk across the lawn. I stick out like a sore thumb, and I’m sure the look on my face represents the anger I feel at having to come out here. Deep down, I know I don’t blame her. Of course, she wants to run. She’s marrying Ivan, for fuck sake.

  I jog up the porch steps and walk through the open door. The music is loud in here, but it looks like the party is quieting down. Most of the people inside are either sitting around talking or passed out—a broad guy who barely looks old enough to drink stands up from the couch.

  “Who the fuck are you?” he spits, swaying on his feet.

  This time I do smile. By the time I was his age, I was helping the Bratva smuggle and sell guns. I’d already taken my first life and had the tattoo of the brotherhood etched across my chest. I wonder if this was Kevin and the thought alone makes my smile instantly fall.

  “Delaney Miller,” I say. Denis made sure to change his family’s last name to something more ‘American’ as soon as he started campaigning for office.

  The broad guy crosses his arms over his chest. “She told me someone was looking for her.”

  I take a step closer to him, and I can feel everyone in the room tense up. “Yeah? Then where the fuck is she?”

  I reach out, intending to grab the front of his shirt and teach this punk a lesson about respect.

  “Alek?”

  Her soft voice stops me in my tracks. I turn around to see her standing in the middle of the small living room. She’s dressed in tight jeans that hug her curves and a glittery white tank top that shows her cleavage. Her long wavy dark hair is pulled into a ponytail at the back of her head. She looks good. Not like she’s been out partying for the last couple of days.

  “There you are, Bunny.”

  She looks around the room. “What are you doing here,” she hisses.

  “Came to collect what’s mine.”

  “I’m not yours anymore,” she whispers.

  I ignore her because she is mine and will always be mine. “We got to go.”

  I walk to her and gently grab her arms, but that asshole comes up behind me.

  “I don’t think so,” he says.

  “Kevin don’t-”


  Ah, so this is Kevin. I reach out like a viper and grab the guy around his neck. A gasp falls over our audience.

  “Alek!” Delaney shrieks trying to pull my hand off of him.

  “This is the guy you stayed with the other night?” I ask her, my voice calm, and even despite the anger coursing through my blood. Kevin scratched at my arm as his face starts to turn red. He looks strong enough that he could probably break free if he weren’t so drunk.

  “Yes, I slept in the guestroom! Stop!” She cries, panic coating her voice.

  Kevin’s eyes are wide with fear, and it seems like everyone else in the room is holding their breath. I loosened my grip, but I don’t release him. I slam him against the nearby wall before lowering my head to talk in his ear.

  “Did you fucking touch her?” I growl.

  He shakes his head quickly, but he still isn’t able to talk with my grip around his neck.

  I look over at Delaney.

  “He didn’t, just let him go,” she begs.

  I lean back down. “If she ever comes here again,” I say, loud enough so she can hear. “I will kill you, and I promise you I’ll cover it up good.”

  I let him go, and he slides down the wall, clutching his throat. Delaney starts to go to him, but I grab her arm. Hot, angry tears fill her eyes.

  “Come on.”

  I don’t give her a chance to protest before dragging her out of the house and to my car. I open the passenger door and all but throw her inside. I slam the door shut and run a hand over my face before getting in on my side.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” She shrieks so loud I’m sure the whole neighborhood probably heard. I dodge her hand that comes flying at me. I grab her wrist, but she just raises her other hand, trying to slap whatever part of me she can get to. I hold both of her small wrists in my hand. Her eyes are wild, like a feral animal. Her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths. I’ve never seen her so damn beautiful.

  “What did you think was going to happen?” I ask. “You think I wouldn’t find you?”

  “I’m not your responsibility anymore.”

  “You’re always my responsibility.”

 

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