Blinking a few times from all this information given at once, I shook my head. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Okay then, let’s go to—” His back pocket vibrated, and he held his index finger up for me to wait a second as he picked it up. “???? ???? ?????? ?????, ????. ? ???? ??? ??????? ?????.”(Alo? Chto? Kakova hrena, Dima. U menya tut jensina bossa.)Whatever he said was blah blah blah and more blah to me, I had some knowledge in the Russian language, but for sure, it didn't extend to full sentences when native speakers spoke fast.
He hung up the phone and smiled at me apologetically. “I’m sorry, Rosa. There is an emergency, and Dima needs me to fix it.” He tangled his fingers in his hair, exhaling a frustrated sigh, clearly not happy with the thought of leaving me alone.
“Hey, no problem. I don’t need a supervisor.”
He didn't look convinced, but nodded anyway. “Kostya!” he shouted, and the bartender raised his head in our direction. “Come here.” The man huffed, annoyed, and ended up at our side after a few seconds.
“??? ?????”(Chto nado?)His voice was deep and husky, which went well with his bold hair, sky blue eyes, and pale skin. He was buff with tattoos covering his neck and arms, and he had piercings in his brows, while his forehead glistened with sweat.
“??????? ??????.”(Jensina Pakhana.)He introduced me as pakhan’s woman.
Kostya nodded and scanned my appearance with a bored expression.
Relieved with him obviously agreeing, Michael kissed me on the cheek. “He’ll show you to your room. I’ll be back as soon as possible.” He placed his iPod in my hand. “Enjoy some music.” Yeah, no. If his playlist consisted of songs similar to the ones he listened to in the car, my ears couldn't take more bleeding.
Once he disappeared, Kostya motioned with his head. “Follow me.” I raised my brow in surprise at his English with a heavy accent. “American this time. Russian pussy apparently is not good anymore.” I frowned but couldn't dwell on it much as he led us to a narrow hall with black carpet and rooms on each side like in a hotel. He entered one in the middle and turned on the light. The room wasn't much to look at. A small closet with clothes, a balcony with a view of the main side of the house, a king-sized black bed with rumpled sheets, and a modest nightstand with a white bedside lamp.
Um, the pakhan of the Bratva resided inhere? “Are you sure you aren't mistaken?” I asked, and he didn't even bother replying, closing the door behind him.
Deciding to explore the room, I searched through the closet and bedside drawers, but found nothing but a huge stack of condoms and my heart sank.
He brought me to a place where he fucked other women? Only now, my eyes registered rumbled sheets, stains of red lipstick, and female toiletries in the bathroom. Devastation at seeing this part of his life shook me to my core, and I wanted nothing more than to lie down and close my eyes from all this shit, but no way in hell would I sit on his fuck pad!
How dare he even bring me here? Where was his respect? Frankly, he was no blushing virgin, but to be so blindly oblivious to my feelings?
Then another thought swooshed all the air from my lungs. Had he been faithful all this time? He came to Russia quite frequently. Were there women in between? The buzzing sound in my ear threatened to send me into a panic attack, so before it happened, I darted from the room and back to the bar to forget myself in the drink and music.
Dominic
“Pakhan, please,” the man begged on his knees, almost kissing the tips of my leather shoes, as he breathed heavily in fear. Vitya cursed in Russian, clearly disapproving of such behavior while otherbyki, bodyguards, snickered.
I raised my eyes to them, which instantly made them shut up, then kicked the man at my feet aside, as a result giving him one more wound on his forehead. The son of a bitch groaned in pain and grabbed his nose as blood slowly dripped through his fingers onto the floor.
I didn't need to give my cleaner more work than necessary, so it was time to end all this shit.
“????? ???? ???, ??????. ?????? ??? ?? ???????????. ???????.”(Vsego odin raz, Pakhan. Bolshe eto ne povtoritsya. Nikogda.)All the while, he pleaded and promised it was only once, and he’d never do it again. I took out my gun then put it at his forehead and prepared to shoot him. Finally, he shut up, while I lowered it to his heart, and the man froze in fear with one last look pleading for mercy.
“There are no second chances with the Bratva.” And without waiting, I fired the gun as the man’s lifeless body slumped, his eyes open.
Before I could even call him, Misha made his way through the other members and took out his black case as he studied the body with interest. He passed me a white handkerchief to clean my gun, and I gave it back. Then he kneeled on the floor and started doing his job.
“Easy job, Pakhan.” He shooed us out with his white gloves, and I started on my way to the exit of the warehouse as my people followed me.
“How the fuck did it happen, Yuri?” I barked, while his lips thinned. “How could he sell drugs to kids near the school under your fucking nose for so long?”
“This was not my responsibility,” he replied coldly, and I barely restrained myself from choking him. “Nikolai is your brigadier. He is supposed to look into all the areas and make a report on them.” Then he pointed at Vitya. “And he has to be here to kick their asses. Don’t blame me for your mistakes.”
My jaw ticked, not liking his tone. “Watch who you talk to, Yuri.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You know what, Dom? You are forgetting we all grew up together in this brotherhood. Don’t act all high and mighty when you need people like us running your business while you chase some ?????(suchka) in New York.” Calling my woman a bitch was the last straw.
Quickly, I snapped my arm back, then, with all my might, punched him in the face, his head jerking back. He snarled but didn’t retaliate, because we had people watching. Had we been alone, he’d react differently. “Don’t talk about her ever again,” I warned, and he chuckled, although it lacked humor.
“So that’s how it is?”
Frowning, I folded my arms. “She’s the future wife of the pakhan. Show disrespect again, and I’ll end your life.” Yuri and I joined the Bratva at the same time. The only difference was he was found half beaten to death on the streets of Moscow, and Radmir helped him out. We trained together, fought together, killed together.
