He chuckled, while studying the girls dancing on the pool table. “Unlike you, I have better reasons for it.”
Slamming the glass on the bar, I snarled, “My woman was abused and then turned into someone she isn’t, all because of some sick motherfucker who I still can’t locate. That’s not reason enough for you?”
He barely even reacted, calmly sipping his drink. “Where is she?”
I was slightly thrown off by the change of subject, and automatically replied, “Upstairs. Ruslan said she just fainted due to shock and nerves. I left her with Michael, as her words still hurt me. I couldn't just sit there.”
Even saying it, I sounded like such a betrayer to my woman. She needed me the most right now, but her broken voice still echoed in my ears. They had hurt her deeply, and I failed to protect what was mine. Yes, they were punished, but at what cost? All those memories… for her, it just happened yesterday. So here I was, drowning in my sorrows, while my best friend and his man watched over her.
Inexcusable and pathetic. The pakhan of the Bratva became a coward.
“Right. But she is yours. Unlike me…Vivian married Alex and had his son.” Radmir’s cold voice snapped me back to our conversation, but before I could comment, a redhead came to us with a huge smile on her face. She wore a short skirt that displayed her long legs, and a white top without a bra, so her nipples were visible through the thing. My revulsion must have shown as she shifted her attention to Radmir. Why the fuck she would even consider approaching me was beyond me. I’d never touched the Bratva whores, preferring escorts in the past. Not to mention, there was no one and never would be after mykrasavica.
“Sovietnik,” she murmured, trailing her index finger down his chest, her eyes scanning his shirtless chest with appreciation. The man just came from the gym with only sweatpants on. “Would you like my company?”
Radmir didn't move, and we shared a look with Kostya. Since Radmir was released from prison five months ago, he had never taken a woman to his apartment despite being celibate those five years in prison. He used to adore women, never having one for more than one night, but they had all liked him. Generous gifts and dinners, he didn't just fuck them like most of us. Vasya once told me he tried to findthe oneamong them, but failed. Once he had met Vivian, everyone else ceased to exist though, and he lived and breathed for her.
He grabbed her hair painfully, and she moaned in pleasure, stepping closer to him and fishing for a kiss, but he pushed her aside harshly. She almost stumbled back on her heels. “I’m going to repeat one more time what I already told you, and if you do not listen, your ass will be out of here permanently.” She whimpered, holding on to the couch, and cast her gaze down, not able to bear his scrutiny. “Never touch me without my permission.” He addressed the rest of the whores who stood in the corner, their eyes wide. “Same goes for you. I’m not fucking interested in what you are offering.” They nodded frantically. The redhead joined them, and they enveloped her in a tight hug. “I’m tired of explaining to each one of you,” he barked. “Turn on the fucking music.”
Igor quickly put on the speakers, as no one needed an angry Radmir. It wasn't a pretty sight, and present members were all here before his imprisonment, so they were aware of the infamous temper.
Radmir swiveled on the seat and came back to his whiskey. Only his clenched fist and ticking jaw were indications of his emotion, and I had a feeling he’d be going back in the ring to fight really soon. That was all he did, fight and drink. He didn't even do his job as my sovietnik, and I couldn't allow it to continue, or people would demand a change in leadership. Truth be told, at this rate, Vitya deserved the title more than Radmir.
We had been best friends. He was my mentor.
Yet my best friend suffered, and I didn't soothe his pain. Enough was fucking enough.
Would there be repercussions? Yes. Would he declare a war and do stupid shit for which the Bratva would have to save his ass? Yes. But he was part of the brotherhood.
Fuck with whoever you want, but don’t fuck with the Bratva.
This was the credo we lived by, and I’d be fucking damned if my sovietnik couldn't take advantage of it.
So I said the words that he never expected to hear, but which would change the course of his life forever. “Her kid, his name is Jake, and he is five years old. He is yours.” He froze, inhaling sharply. “The reason she married Alex Jordan was because he blackmailed her. I don’t know the details. But he never had her. She is still yours.”
The chair flew to the floor as he stood up, grabbing the sides of my shirt, while spitting furiously, “Where was your loyalty? I’ll fucking kill you!” Men dashed to us, because no one dared to threaten the pakhan. I raised my hand to stop them, because we had to hash it out between ourselves. By the glaze of his eyes and his fierce stance, he was in a trance and itched for a fight.
A fight I had to give him, because he had to unleash all the pent-up anger before going after the love of his life. Otherwise, he wouldn't think with his head. And I couldn't allow that.
The pakhan of the Bratva always took care of his brotherhood.
In that moment, it meant allowing my sovietnik to pour all his frustration, fury, and anger on me. He pulled his fist back and punched me right in the face. My head tilted back, and I quickly re-grouped and delivered a hit to his stomach, bending him in two while the men formed a circle around us, and the women gasped, running away from the bar.
“She had my son! My son, Dominic!” He delivered a blow to my liver; the sick son of a bitch knew the weak places to hit. I kicked him so he’d lose his balance, but not before he grabbed my neck, punching me rapidly. We tumbled to the floor and our fists flew, to a point it was hard to know what was where. We just blindly hurt each other.
“What the fuck?” Don shouted, and in a second, he wrapped his arms around Radmir from behind and lifted him off me while Vitya held me, but we still faced off at each other, even standing and ready to go again. We both needed it.
“Out of all the people, I didn't expect it from you, Dom.” This hurt much more than any bruises from the fight, but explaining the fact I had no choice back then was pointless. I’d never see reason if someone hid my child away from me.
“Forward, never back, Radmir. Remember?” We stilled, studying one another as his teaching flashed through my mind. Whenever I was in a rage back in my teens or wiped in the ring, not wanting to stand up, these words were like a mantra to me. I just hoped he’d listen to me and understand the importance of them as he once taught me.
In a few short seconds, his face stilled and an indifferent expression covered any kind of emotions he must have felt. “Let go of me,” he quietly demanded, and Don did just that while Radmir addressed Vitya, completely ignoring me, which in other circumstances would have earned him a bullet in his forehead. “Give me all the information about my son and Vivian.” He paused and then still, without looking at me, questioned, “What you told me in prison… about her giving testimony against me. Is it true? Or one more of your lies?”
Probably telling him these were never my lies, but Vasya’s to begin with, wouldn't solve anything, so I kept my mouth shut. Before he accomplished his quest, no conversation would matter to him. He had to see it in a different light.
And for that, he had to meet his kid. “Yes, it was the truth.” His jaw ticked. He nodded and disappeared into his wing with Vitya hot on his heels. Vitya knew what to do if the information ever came up.
Don scanned me from head to toe and shook his head. “Dominic, I suggest you clean yourself up before Rosa wakes. The last thing she needs is to see you like this, smelling like a fucking garbage truck.” He whistled, and his Cosa Nostra men stood behind him at once. “I can’t stay. Mary needs me. Bring her back when she is ready.”
