Kostya A Dark Bratva Hate Story

by Talbot, Ginger

  Pain and guilt shine in his dark eyes, but I think of my future, trapped, some rich old pervert’s sex toy, and I don’t feel sorry for Kostya anymore.

  “Yes. I wasn’t thinking. I was just trying to give you a pleasant, normal evening for once.”

  “This is more for your benefit than for mine.” I’m not letting up. Why should I?

  “Fair enough. Maybe it is. I always wanted to take you out on a date. I had it all planned out, our perfect evening together. Pasha got there first, unfortunately.” His gaze drops. He can’t even meet my eyes.

  “What did you have planned?” I ask skeptically.

  “I would have picked you up in my limousine, with a bouquet of flowers. I would have insisted on a chaperone, so that it would be clear my intentions are honorable. There was a restaurant called Nebo; that would have been our first stop.” I remember Nebo; it was the hottest ticket in Moscow three years ago, impossible to get a table unless you knew somebody. “After dinner, I would have taken you to the Patriarchy Bridge, to enjoy the nighttime view. On a clear night, it’s glorious. It would have ended with a kiss on the cheek, and you agreeing to another date.”

  A rush of emotion sweeps over me, and my throat closes in sorrow. If only Pasha hadn’t spotted me. If only Kostya wasn’t Bratva. If only...

  “Remember that night at the club, when I danced with you?”

  “Always.”

  His eyes go misty. “Would you dance with me again?”

  Cruel, cutting words dance on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow them. Because maybe, if I can get him to fall for me, he’ll balk when it comes time to sell me. And sadly, because I want to. There is nowhere else that I feel more perfectly at home than in his brawny arms.

  “Yes, I would love to dance with you.”

  “We can go to the parlor,” he says. “Everybody else has retired for the night.”

  I banish thoughts of Raisa and her friends, and the misery and fear they’re enduring right now. If I can seduce Kostya into opening up his heart, it could benefit her too.

  “Do you want me to get you a nice dress?” he asks politely.

  I glance down at my flannel pajamas. “No, these are super comfy.”

  “I’m glad.” He’s all kindness and consideration right now, and my foolish heart melts. His cruel punishments will never break me, but when he shows me glimpses of the man that I’ve always yearned for, my defenses shatter and crumble.

  So, minutes later, we’re in the parlor, and music is floating from the speakers. And he’s playing the song that we danced to in the club, three years ago. He had it ready, right there on the playlist. And when that song is done, it melts into another song that played in the club that night.

  We slow dance, my head on his shoulder. The songs flow through the air, in the exact sequence that they played three years ago. He couldn’t have put them together that quickly tonight – he must have had this playlist saved for a while.

  “How many times have you replayed that night in your head?” I ask him.

  He doesn’t try to deny it. “I’ve lost count.”

  Underneath his scarred, tattooed chest beats the heart of a romantic. I never would have guessed that Kostya could be a sentimental fool – at least when it comes to me.

  He can’t sell me. He won’t. He’ll find a way.

  I cling to that hope and relax into his arms as we glide across the floor in perfect rhythm.

  We keep dancing until my legs start trembling. I’m still weak and sore from being run ragged for days.

  I don’t want to stop, I don’t want this to end, but my knees give out. Kostya dives in and catches me. “Sorry, sorry,” I mumble.

  “Don’t be sorry. You haven’t done a single thing wrong.”

  He scoops me up in his arms and carries me to the couch. When he sits down, I curl up in his lap.

  We stay just like that for a few minutes, and finally he clears his throat. “Anya. There’s something that I need to ask you. Back when I fell for you...were you seeing anyone else?”

  I look up at him in confusion. “Why would you ask that? No.”

  “It’s just that...when you went on the run, you disappeared for a year. And, you’re not a virgin anymore. Also, your maid – the one who went on the run with you? She’s completely vanished, we’ve never seen another sign of her.”

  I tense, knowing where this is going. “And? Say what’s on your mind, Kostya.”

  “I wonder if, during that summer, someone got you pregnant, and you had a baby during that year. I wonder if Masha is raising that baby somewhere.”

  If only he knew the truth. But that’s the last thing in the world he deserves.

  I tilt my head back, staring into his dark, anguished eyes. “You’ve seen my body up close, Kostya. Don’t you think you’d be able to tell if I’d given birth?”

  He gives a slight nod. “Yes. I would. There would be at least some sign.” Then he manages a sad smile. “Part of me fantasized that you disappeared with my child, and I hoped you’d never be found. I thought that maybe you left Masha behind, and she was raising my child somewhere safe, away from all this.”

  Oh, if only.

  He continues, his voice sad and faraway. “But of course, that is impossible, because even if you had a child, it couldn’t be mine. We were never together.”

  A sharp knife of pain stabs me right through the heart. “We’re done with this line of conversation, Kostya.”

  “Just one more question. Where is Masha?”

  “Dead.” Tears prick my eyes. This is a pain I have wrapped up and hidden deep inside me, and I don’t appreciate him dredging it up. “Happy?”

  “Not at all. I know she loved you. I know she was always there for you when your mother wasn’t. I’m sorry for your loss, Anya.”

  “I can’t talk any more, Kostya.” My eyes are drooping, my heart is heavy.

  “Rest, sweetheart. Just close your eyes.”

  Tired, I lay my head on his chest, and the next thing I know, sunlight’s beaming through the windows. We slept there all night.

  I jerk awake, and slide off his lap, yawning.

  “Last night was perfect.” Kostya joins me in a yawn, his hand over his mouth. Then he sighs, deep and heavy. “Thank you for that, Anya.” It sounds like the prelude to a goodbye.

  My heart speeds up. My little prison-cell room is waiting for me. And somewhere, nearby, Raisa and two other girls are trapped in pain and misery. Surely last night will have changed his mind?

  I keep my voice soft and tender. “It could be like that every night.”

  Instantly, he stiffens. Lines of tension draw his face taut. He doesn’t answer.

  “You could buy me! And Raisa!” I put my hand on his arm pleadingly. “You love me, Kostya. I know you do. I love you too, even after everything you’ve done.”

  “This can’t go on, Anya. My stepfather is checking in with me regularly. I can keep you in my bedroom for another day or two at most, while you recover from your fall. After that...I have to return to your training.”

  Desperation surges through my body. I’m so close to breaking his barriers, I know – if only I could figure out what to say. It feels as if the words are floating out there, waiting for me to discover them – a magic spell to save me and Raisa. “Kostya, I’m begging you. Think about what my life will be like if you go through with this. Imagine another man chaining me to a bed and forcing himself on me. Sharing me with his friends.”

  Tears shimmer in his dark eyes, shocking me. I never imagined Kostya as the kind of man who’d be capable of crying. “I know. I’m sorry.” His voice is wretched, his face twisted in sorrow. “But if I were to back out now, my stepfather would marry my sister to some grotesque old pervert, and put my mother in a sanitarium. And then he would send a death squad for you and me, so it would all have been for nothing. I have to do this, Anya. I won’t ask for your forgiveness or understanding. I have earned nothing but your hate. And it will be the end of me.”<
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  My heart sinks. What kind of man could hold me in his arms all night, and make love to me like he did, and then sell me? Why won’t he even try to think of a way out for us? “Does Raisa have to be part of it, though? Couldn’t you at least negotiate something with her?”

  He clenches a fist and slams it down on the side table so hard that it jumps. “Damn it! How many times are you going to ask me this? And it’s too late for her anyway! Her buyer moved up the timeline. They’re all going tomorrow.” Then he sucks in an angry breath. “Jesus. I didn’t mean to tell you that. You mess with my head, Anya.”

  Raisa’s leaving today. I feel as if my heart has turned to ice. This is it, then.

  He lets out a frustrated sigh. “I know what you’re thinking,” he says.

  “I doubt that very much.” Hate drips from every word.

  He grabs my chin and twists my head so I’m forced to look at him. “You’re thinking that with Raisa gone, I no longer have any way to punish you. I know you’re strong enough to withstand any physical abuse I throw at you, so you’re going to stop cooperating, aren’t you? Maybe you’ll try to push me to kill you, to escape the auction.”

  I yank my chin from his grasp and leap to my feet, stepping back. He stands up, stalking over to me until he’s standing inches away.

  “Death would be better than what you have planned for me.”

  “Don’t push me, Anya. Raisa will be close by. If I have to, I can contact the buyer and have her returned to me, especially once she’s not a virgin anymore. I’d have to pay to buy her back, but it wouldn’t be a problem.”

  Fury boils through my veins. All the warmth I felt for him last night vanishes. I thought I’d reached him, brought him back from the darkness. I thought wrong. “I’d like to go back to my cell now, sir.”

  That brings him up short. A little of the anger fades from his face. “You could stay until tomorrow. Maybe even another day after that. We could be together, until it’s time for you to go back to your room.” He stares at me intently. He wants me, needs me, and it gives me vicious satisfaction to be able to deny him.

  “You already told me that, sir. Frankly I’m sick of hearing it. I’m your prisoner, not your girlfriend.”

  His expression goes bleak, lips pressing together into a hard thin line, as he stands up. I follow him silently through the house, and when we return to my room, he chains my ankle to the bed.

  When he reaches the doorway, he glances back at me.

  “Anya...” How can one word be filled with so much love and longing?

  I take his love, and throw it back in his haunted, beautiful face. “Save it, Kostya. Just go drown your feelings in a bottle of vodka. That’s what cowards do.” I turn away from him and glare at the wall until he leaves.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kostya

  It’s ten in the morning, and I’m well on my way to being drunk.

  I sit gloomily in a comfortable chair in my living room. I’m about to ship three girls off to a living nightmare. For the past year, I managed to make my mind go blank when I did that, but Anya’s stripped away all of my mental defenses.

  Raisa and the other two have been packed into a van. They’re sedated, unconscious, hidden in special compartments. They are about to be transported to their purchaser, Moriz. He’s a Russian oil baron, but he has a mansion outside of Chicago. He owns a private jet, and will be flying them back home in a few weeks, after he’s played with them here for a while.

  Anya is in her room. I couldn’t face her this morning, not after I stupidly blurted out what was happening to Raisa. I sent Aleksandr in to bring her breakfast.

  I should never have made love to her. That’s what it was, it wasn’t sex, it was making love. I am greedy, and selfish, and I hoped that the memory would nourish my starved soul through the rest of my lonely life. It’s having the opposite effect. The moment she left me I craved more, with the desperate fervor of a heroin addict going through withdrawal.

  Her harsh words run through my mind, replaying on an endless loop. She says I have choices, but I’m wrong. I can’t save everyone. Someone has to suffer.

  It’s Anya, or Elizaveta and my mother. Who should I choose? The lines grow blurrier, the answers less clear. Maybe I should flip a coin.

  There’s a half full bottle of vodka sitting on the table in front of me. I shouldn’t drink any more. My brain’s already fuzzy.

  If I could save Anya, if we could go on the run and disappear together, would she forgive me? Would she love me, would she be my bride? Bear my children?

  No. Because even if I keep Anya here with me, it’s too late for Raisa. Once those girls disappear into that mansion, they’re gone forever. And Anya will never forgive me for that.

  The hell with it. I lean forward to refill my glass. Then I hear Aleksandr and Mikhail heading my way, and I push my chair back and gaze at them blearily. I barely slept last night; I just watched Anya’s peaceful face, the little smile playing on her lips as she slept. I imagined that she was dreaming of me.

  “Are they ready for this?” I ask Mikhail. He nods, but I see something in his expression. A flicker of doubt.

  “How do you feel about selling women?” I push him for the truth, because I need to know how far he’s willing to go. “Be honest with me.”

  “Well...I will do whatever I am told to do. But as for whether it’s what I want to do, if I am telling the truth, it isn’t.” He’s nervous, his gaze flicking up at me fearfully. But he makes himself speak. “What appeals to me about this job is the challenge. I like to use my fists, I love a good fight. I consider it an honor to be a soldier for the Bratva, because we fear nothing, and we earn respect. But dominating women like this...it’s like fighting a kindergartener. And it’s not something my mother would be proud of.” That earns him a look of annoyance from Aleksandr.

  After spending last night with Anya, I’m in an unusually sympathetic mood. “I understand. Unfortunately, it is a lucrative business, and my stepfather isn’t willing to give it up. We are good soldiers, and we follow orders.”

  I glance at Aleksandr, who has an odd look on his face.

  “You, too?”

  “It’s not that, sir. It’s just...” there’s hesitation in his voice.

  “Yes?” Surely Aleksandr, of all people, can’t have developed a conscience. He dines on the misery of others. I think he’d wither and die without it.

  He scrunches up his forehead. “I don’t know quite how to explain it.”

  “Explain what?”

  “There’s something about the girls. The way they’re behaving.”

  I stand up, slightly unsteady on my feet. Fuck, I didn’t realize quite how drunk I was.

  “Damn it, say whatever’s on your mind.”

  “Ever since you punished Raisa...she and the other two are acting different.” Raisa, Tatiana and Zoya. Three more lives I’ve destroyed.

  “Yes.” I narrow my eyes at him. “You said they started behaving perfectly. That’s one reason I was willing to accommodate the buyer and move up the sale date.”

  He grimaces. “That’s the problem. They’re behaving almost too perfectly. Too eager to please. They were obeying me before, of course, but reluctantly, the way that girls do after the first phase of the training. Then all of a sudden it was like they wanted nothing more than to do what I said. It doesn’t usually happen that fast, you know that. There’s an in between phase where they’re still fighting.”

  He’s right. When we begin our training, the women don’t accept their new reality at first. They beg, they try to bargain, they manipulate, they pray for a rescue. They can’t believe that this will be their new life. Submitting to a future as a sex slave doesn’t come naturally to anyone. They all fight at first, and it takes at least a few brutal, miserable weeks to strip them of hope.

  “Why didn’t you say something earlier?” I demand.

  “Sir, I’m sorry. I tried to approach you a few times and you waved me off. You have
n’t been easy to talk to lately. It’s my fault, though, I should have insisted. It was just...I mean, I could be wrong. Perhaps they just reacted to Raisa’s punishment and accepted the inevitable.” But he doesn’t look convinced.

  Cold, hard realization dawns on me. It is very unlikely that the girls suddenly submitted. It’s much more likely that Anya whispered something to Raisa when she was holding her and comforting her. That’s exactly the kind of thing that Anya would do.

  “No, you’re right. This is on me. From now on, if you need to talk to me about anything, I’m listening,” I assure him.

  “So what should we do?”

  I stand there, hesitating. I’ve already agreed to send the women off. Should I wait?

  “I’ll question Anya,” I say. “Maybe she’ll have some insight.” But will I able to make her talk?

  I seem to have lost my will when it comes to her. And even if I could harden my heart enough to truly hurt her, I suspect that she possesses more strength then I realized up until now.

  I could punish Raisa in front of her again to try to force Anya to confess – but Raisa’s doped up and out cold. She won’t wake up for hours.

  A secret, treacherous part of me is glad for any excuse not to send the girls to the buyer. And I realize that I’m sick to the very depth of my soul, and I can’t keep doing this. I hate what I have become. I’m lost, so lost, and I have no-one to turn to.

  Aleksandr and Mikhail are standing there waiting for orders. I wonder what would happen if I brainstormed with Anya, tried to come up with a solution to this madness. It’s an insane idea, but I really am that desperate. I can’t turn to any of my men for help. Anya’s smart, she’s resourceful, maybe...

  My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I see a text message from my stepfather.

  “Video call in five minutes,” it says.

  Fuck. More trouble?

  “My stepfather’s calling. Just keep an eye on the girls and make sure they don’t stop breathing,” I tell Aleksandr. Medication dosages can be a tricky thing.