by Coco Miller
Sergei
Red Bratva Billionaires
Coco Miller
COCO MILLER ROMANCE
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Copyright © 2019 Coco Miller
All rights reserved.
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License Note
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real events, people, or places is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced or distributed in any format without the permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review.
This book contains mature content, including graphic sex. Please do not continue reading if you are under the age of 18 or if this type of content is disturbing to you.
Contents
Books By Coco
Introduction
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Extended Epilogue
Also by Coco Miller
Books By Coco
Big City Billionaires
Faking For Mr. Pope
Virgin Escort For Mr. Vaughn
Pretending for Mr. Parker
Red Bratva Billionaires
VIKTOR
SERGEI
MAXIM
The Overwatch Division
WYATT
ASA
CESAR
Andolini Crime Family
CARMINE
GIOVANNI
UMBERTO
Bound To You Series
Bound To Steele
Introduction
Warning: the couple in this love story hate each other.
But there’s good reason why.
Her father owes a huge debt.
To a Russian Bratva boss who’s determined to collect.
So the boss takes her instead.
Until the father can pay what he owes.
He doesn’t like the little virginal brat.
Until one night he realizes he absolutely does.
Will he be able to give her back to her father once the debt is paid?
Will she want him to?
Sergei is a steamy, enemies-to-lovers, stand-alone, Russian mafia romance. It is not appropriate for readers under 18 due to sizzling HAWT love scenes!
Prologue
Even in the still of the night, evil can creep into your dreams, making you believe in fairy tales. I no longer believe in them. I want to, but living the life I have ensures that fairy tales don’t exist for me.
My father is an accountant for one of the most lethal Russian mob bosses around, Sergei Isanov; and it’s well known in those circles that he is not a man to be disrespected or double crossed.
Ever.
Upon first glance, looks can be deceiving. Sergei is a beautiful man. He is sturdily built, with a square jaw, golden blonde hair and a thick Russian accent. He is a charismatic bachelor with deep pockets. The media loves him, the public loves him, but in my world, we know better.
He is not some friendly guy you’d like to have a beer with, but instead is a force to be reckoned with. He can be wonderful, and he can be lethal, so you either love him or fear him.
I am of the latter persuasion.
I was raised to remember my place in this world. As the daughter of a man who was employed by a monster, none of my teachers or friends at school ever knew the depths to my darkness. It was suffocating being my father’s daughter. Being a part of this dangerous world.
My mother is a beautiful and highly intelligent woman who unfortunately never reached her full potential, because she probably married my father too young. Because of the world we live in, she drinks herself into a tizzy, almost daily, never sober enough to even care what goes on under her own roof. Too afraid to ever face the reality of what goes on.
My father is African-American, not Russian, and could never truly be in the Bratva. Not ever. He is a hired hand, paid for his expertise only, and has always been treated as such.
He is (and I hate to say it) a pushover. He knows his place very well. Obedient. Loyal. He knows who holds all the power in the Bratva, and that man is the mob boss who never takes no for an answer. Who always gets what he wants. This is a man who never cares about anyone’s feelings but his own, and he scares me shitless.
His circle of people is small, but his hand reaches far. He’s had dirty dealings from coast to coast, and from what I’ve heard, he’s never cared who or what he steps on to get what he wants.
While I consider myself a strong young woman most of the time, I’ve never seen or heard of anyone standing up against the ghost in the darkness, or the man, the myth, and the legend as the police call him. He frightens me. He always has. I don’t know him, yet I have always been afraid.
The one thing I will give my father though, is that he’s made sure to keep me out of Sergei’s direct line of sight. I’m not sure that the man has ever even laid eyes on me. I’m not exactly sure why, but I can only imagine it’s because he is just as scary as I’ve always believed he was.
Now that I am fresh out of high school, more than anything I just want to chill out and relax until I make the decision about which college I want to attend. Unfortunately my parents are not on board with that plan.
My mother is dead set on me staying home and making a life here. She wants me to allow her to dress me up, and pawn me off onto one of the eligible bachelors from the country club. She thinks that what people of affluence do. Set their daughters up with an advantageous partnership.
My father, on the other hand, wants to ship me off to the other side of the country and have me attend some Ivy league college there. “Who wants to marry a woman without a half decent college degree?” my father often says to my mother. “No man will want her.”
My high school educated mother just drinks more wine, or whatever liquor she can get her hands on, as my father continues to insult her day in and day out. Why does he talk to her that way? He married her and she isn’t college educated. Does that mean he settled? Does that mean she isn’t worthy of his love?
These are my parents, this is my life, and this is my cross to bear. Born to a father who works for the mob. Daughter to a mother who drinks herself into a coma everyday.
No one is here to look after me. There’s no extended family or close family friends to even care about the poor little accountant’s daughter whose father can’t pay his debts. Everyone simply stays very far away from me.
No one wants to touch me with a ten foot pole.
No one but Sergei.
Chapter One
A door slams, jarring me, as I lay in my bed on the verge of sleep. I have a busy day tomorrow and need my so called beauty sleep. The house is usually silent this time of night. I have only moved back home a few months ago. Cornell University just wasn’t for me.
My parents are still upset that I’ve decided not to finish my studies, but they’re just going to have to suck it up. I needed a break to find myself and figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life.<
br />
They call my time of reflection immature and foolish. Blaming it on the morals of “my entitled generation”. I on the other hand felt it was something I couldn’t ignore. I will not stay put in a situation that doesn’t feed my soul. I am not my mother. I am not my father. I choose happiness and won’t settle for less.
The sounds of shouting drags me fully awake. I need to see what is going on. Kicking back the heavy comforter, my feet pads across the plush carpet out into the hallway. Angry voices battling with each other confront me as I step down the spiral staircase leading to the floor below. Dark hair and shadowed eyes are the first thing I see as I descend further.
Who is he?
My father is speaking to the someone as I peer around the corner trying not to be seen. Too late. The tall man turns his lightly scruffed face towards me and his eyes rake over my body, lingering on my pale pink sleep shorts. He’s young, probably not too much older than me, and he reminds me of someone. A celebrity maybe? I’m not sure who.
I tug on the hem of my white tank, covering the small amount of my exposed brown skin above the waistband. Chills erupt in me from head to toe. His chiseled jaw clenches as I entered the room.
“Kai, go back to your room,” my father demands, pointing his finger in the direction of my room.
“What’s going on?” I move closer to the two men squaring off in the middle of the living room, wondering what in the world is happening. My father’s business associates rarely come to our house. So who is this?
My father crosses his arms as the mystery man moves to the large leather chair in the corner and sits down as if he owns the place. His eyes never leaving mine, he laughs bodaciously, and my father’s glare immediately shoots toward him.
“Mr. Isanov, is something funny?”
Oh my God, this is the infamous Sergei Isanov.
“You forgot to remind me that you had a daughter, Ballard,” he says in a thick, dominant, Russian accent.
“What difference does it make?” my father asks, glaring at the man.
“Well, this changes everything.”
My father moves closer to me. “No, it doesn’t.”
My father’s voice is stern, the same voice he used to reprimand me many times when I was younger, but I can sense just a slight waver in it. He’s afraid, but he’s doing his best to act as if he isn’t, which makes me totally frightened.
Mr. Isanov isn't the least bit intimidated and waves my dad off with a flick of his wrist. Then he suddenly turns his attention to me. His eyes capture mine. No, they almost swallow mine whole. Dark and fathomless. I can’t tell where his pupils end and the irises begin.
The way he looks me over, slow and appraising, makes my knees almost buckle. His gaze lingers on my breasts, and his eyes trail hungrily down my virginal body. I am only wearing a simple set of cotton pajamas, but I feel completely exposed. I’ve never been stared at like this before.
“This is my new offer, Ballard,” he says, not taking his eyes off of me. “You have two weeks to get me the money you owe me. In the meantime, I’ll hold your daughter as collateral.”
My eyes widen. He can’t be serious.
“You mother fucker!” my father shouts.
Mr. Isanov stands and walks over to me. His tailored dark suit only added to the foreboding flitting around in my belly.
“Pack a few things, Miss Ballard. You have ten minutes.”
Confused, I glance at my father who is standing stock still in his tracks.
“Dad?”
He’s not saying a word. What the hell?
My father’s head lowers in defeat. “Pack your bags, Kai.”
“You can not be serious, daddy.” My eyes seek answers, but his tight-lipped response was all I was met with. He steps closer to me with regret in his eyes.
“You’ll be staying with Mr. Isanov. Kai. If you don’t do this we’ll lose the house, we’ll lose everything, and who knows what else Mr. Isanov is capable of. It’s not ideal, but I promise you I’ll find the money and you’ll be back home before you know it.”
My father glances back to Mr. Isanov with a face full of anger. “If any of your goons lay one finger on her–”
Mr. Isanov leans his mouth close to the side of my face. “Go pack bags. Now,” he whispers against my ear. “I’m your daddy now.”
My legs shake as I turn away and near the staircase.
“Sergei, I mean it. She has nothing to do with this. It was my error. I know how some of your soldiers can be after a few drinks. If one of them lays a finger on her…”
“Don’t tell me how to run business or manage workers, Ballard. Don’t forget who the fuck you work for. Who you stole from.”
His voice is deep and commanding, demanding obedience and getting it.
My father quickly backs down. It’s sad to watch.
“I apologize, sir. It’s just that Kai is my only daughter. My only child.”
“My money just like my little deti as well, and I want them returned safely to me just like you want your little malyshka returned to you. Understand, da?”
My father hesitates at first but then answers solemnly. “Yes.”
“Glad we’re on same page. I’m sure your wife will be worried whenever she gets home from her tennis lesson, so tell her to call me if she needs reassurances.”
“I will talk to my wife myself,” my father grits out.
“Even better.”
I race to my room wondering how this could really be happening. I can’t just go live with a Russian mobster. I have a life. I have work for the next few days. How would my absence be explained? The library won’t appreciate me not showing up.
My worst fear has come true. My father works for a bonafide gangster, and that life is finally spilling over into our world. I was raised to keep my nose out of his business. I was raised to only know that my father was an accountant for a powerful man. A dangerous man. Now I see that it is much more than that. I think my father is a money launderer. I think he’s been up to something and now he’s gotten caught. Putting us all in danger.
Will this man touch me? Will he hurt me? Will he pass me around to his Russian friends?
Grabbing my old cheerleading duffle bag from high school, I pack a few outfits inside. How long would I be staying there? How could my father put me in this position? How could he let this happen?
Hatred grows inside me for everyone as I pull on a t-shirt and yoga pants. I hate my parents for allowing this to happen to me, and I definitely hate Sergei Isanov for even suggesting a trade like this. I am a human being, not something to pawn off or something to barter. How dare he.
I make the decision to not abide by anything he has in store for me. Tying my full blown out hair up in a bun, I throw on a pair of sweats and sneakers, and turn slowly around my room. Will I see this room again?
I can’t believe this was really happening. I want to stay here. As dysfunctional as they are, I want to stay with my parents. I don’t want to go to a strange house with a strange man who only has the worst intentions for me.
I hate Sergei Isanov.
I hate this man with every breath I take.
Chapter Two
His sleek black sedan is cool inside from the air conditioning tempering the nervous sweat coating my palms. I sink my tiny body into the soft leather interior of the seat as he drives through the city.
Mr. Isanov (the terrible) hasn’t said a word since we left the house. My father assured me before I left that this was temporary, but the tears still escaped as I said my goodbyes. What if he was wrong? I didn’t want to think about the possibilities if my father couldn’t pay the debt. I don’t believe this was happening.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, as if he actually gives a damn about my well being or my comfort.
I shake my head, not wanting to give him my words. My protest is something small and inconsequential, but he’s taken my freedom. I don't want to willingly give him anything.
“You will have to speak
to me.”
Silence stretches between us as he navigates the near empty streets. After an hour of my mind conjuring up horrible things of what awaits me, finally, I speak.
“What do you plan on doing to me?”
His eyes meet mine. Stopped at a traffic light, the red illuminating his face makes him appear like the devil incarnate. He shoots me a sly grin.
“You’re mine now. I can do whatever I want.”
An overwhelming sense of unease drapes itself around me.
“I’m not a prostitute.”
He laughs softly at my statement, as he accelerates through the green light.
“Do I look like type who would buy pussy? Who would actually need to?”
I glance at him. With his crisp, black suit, fancy cufflinks, and expensive silver watch poking out from under his clothing, he looks every bit the type of man who would.
“Yes,” I utter plainly. “As a matter of fact you do.”
He laughs again and the rich sound sends goosebumps traveling over my skin. Turning my head to gaze out the window, I wonder where he will take me.
He turns down a dark road lined with billowy weeping willow trees, and I get the eerie sensation that bad things are coming. This reminds me of the movies when the killer turns down the long, windy trail to murder the stupid girl who has no clue what's coming. Except, the stupid girl is me.