Hunted By The Bratva Beast: A Bratva Stalker/Captive Romance
Page 17
“Ugh, fuck that guy,” she groans.
“My dad sent him over.”
“Well, your dad has really terrible taste in men for you.”
I sigh. “He checked all the boxes—rich, successful, and apparently a…” I frown into my friend’s face. “Wait, did you and—”
“Oh my God, no. Not me,” she makes a face. “Crystal Shoenburg used to date his brother though. Lots of family donations to sweep his predatory bullshit under the rug.”
I blanche. “Wait, that was Chet Brubaker?”
“Yep.”
I groan. “As in…”
“Son of Melvin Brubaker, CEO of Adonis Capital. That’s the one.”
I roll my eyes and turn to glare at my father. He’s not even looking though. “Glad to see we’ve evolved past arranged marriages for political means,” I grumble.
“I mean, does it actually surprise you? How many guys has your dad tried to set you up with because of their family’s money or political connections?”
“More than I want to count.”
She sighs. “So, you’re going to tell him today?”
“That’s the plan.’
“Well, I’m here if you need me.”
“Thanks, Zoey.”
The plan is to finally tell my father I’m leaving my gilded cage. I mean I’m twenty-two, I have a law degree, and it’s ridiculous that I’m still living under his roof as basically a captive doll. So, I’m leaving. Even if it means getting cut off completely, I have to get out.
And today, I’m telling him that. No more suitors pushed on me. No more being a pawn for his political career. I want my life, and I want it now.
I arch as my father shakes some hands. Wilson, his chief of staff, comes up and whispers something in his ear. My father frowns and nods quickly, then he turns and makes a beeline for his office down the hall.
“Where’s he off to?”
“Oh, probably has Satan on the phone, offering my first-born child in exchange for a State Senate seat.”
Zoey snickers. “Well, no one’s allowed in his office, right?”
“True.”
“So, wouldn’t now be an opportune time?”
I bite my lip. She’s right. He’ll be alone and cornered. If I’m going to do this, it might as well be now. I turn and pass her my glass.
“I’ll be back.”
“Be brave!”
“Thanks.”
I slink away through the crowd. No one tries to congratulate me or stop me, not without my father watching. And that’s fine with me. I slip down the hall until I’m right outside his office door. I go to open it, but suddenly I hear voices arguing inside.
“Look, I already told you,” my father is saying sharply. “I can get you money now, or if you want to wait until after the election, whatever contracts you want are—”
“I am not interested in gambling on your political aspirations, Thomas.”
I freeze. The other man’s voice is dark and gritty, with some sort of Russian or other Balkan accent.
My dad laughs nervously. “Gambling? Please. This is a sure thing. And trust me, once I’m in, those contracts are going to be so sweet, you’ll get cavities—”
“I already told you, I am not interested,” the man with the smokey, dark, powerful voice sighs heavily. “We had an arrangement, Thomas.”
“I know, I know, and I’m trying—”
“I did you a favor.”
“I know that! And I’m so appreciative, I just—”
“A debt is owed,” the voice snarls quietly. “And today, I am here to collect.”
“Look, I’m trying, okay?! If you just give me a month, Mr. Komarov.”
I freeze, dread filling me. The behind-door crooked dealings with my father, the Russian accent, and now, a name I’ve seen in newspapers. The man my father is speaking to is the single most dangerous, violent, and notorious man in organized crime in Chicago. Perhaps even the whole country.
He’s talking to Viktor Komarov, the vicious, powerful head of the Kashenko Bratva.
“I’m not interested in giving you a goddamn thing, Thomas,” the Russian mobster hisses. “Except a further three seconds to tell me how I’m going to get my money, today. One.”
“Mr. Komarov, please! This is not how things are done—”
“Do not lecture me, Thomas. We had an arrangement. That is how things are done. Two.”
“Mr. Komarov!”
I hear the sudden metallic click of a gun on the other side of the door. I gasp loudly.
Too loudly.
The barking sound of a snarled command in Russian echoes through the door. Footsteps cross the room, and I gasp as I pull away from the door. But it’s too late. The office door yanks open, and two burly, terrifying men suddenly grab me. I scream, and my father is yelling, but they ignore us both. They yank me inside and throw me to the ground. The two of them storm over to me, when suddenly, there’s a barked command.
“Ostanovka!”
The deep, gravelly voice booms through the room.
I feel my heart pounding in my throat as I slowly look up. The two burly men move aside, and suddenly, I’m looking at a tall, broad-shouldered, completely gorgeous tank of a man. He’s even taller and bigger than his two bodyguards, and you can almost see the power rippling off of him. His deep blue eyes look right at me, captivating my gaze.
“Who are you?”
“Mr. Komarov,” my father fumbles, almost tripping over himself as he stutters over. “This is Fiona, my daughter.”
The brooding Russian’s eyes glimmer. They narrow at me as a shadow of a smile curls at his lips.
“Thomas,” he growls. “Our debt is settled.”
Keep reading!
Paying The Bratva’s Debt - Exclusively on Amazon and in Kindle Unlimited!
The Bratva’s Stolen Bride - Exclusively on Amazon and in Kindle Unlimited!
Also by Jagger Cole
Standalones:
Her Rough Mechanic
Cherished
Captivated
Roping His Bride
Stalker of Mine
Hungry For Her
Wrapped Up In Her
Bosshole
Grumpaholic
Be Ours
Paying The Bratva’s Debt
The Bratva’s Stolen Bride
Hunted By The Bratva Beast
* * *
The Scaliami Crime Family:
(All standalone books which can be read in any order.)
The Hitman’s Obsession
The Boss’s Temptation
The Bodyguard’s Weakness
* * *
Power Series:
(All standalone books which can be read in any order.)
Tyrant
Outlaw
Warlord
* * *
Wants & Needs Duet:
All He Wants
Everything He Needs
* * *
Forever Always Duet:
Forever His
Always Hers
* * *
Tuff Built Series:
Big Deck
Hard Screw
About the Author
A reader first and foremost, Jagger Cole cut his romance writing teeth penning various steamy fan-fiction stories years ago. After deciding to hang up his writing boots, Jagger worked in advertising pretending to be Don Draper. It worked enough to convince a woman way out of his league to marry him, though, which is a total win.
Now, Dad to two little princesses and King to a Queen, Jagger is thrilled to be back at the keyboard.
When not writing or reading romance books, he can be found woodworking, enjoying good whiskey, and grilling outside - rain or shine.
* * *
You can find all of his books at
www.jaggercolewrites.com
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