Bratva Bride (Bratva Series Book 1)

True to his word, Aleksandr was waiting in the kitchen for me once I left the dining room. Leaving Illayana like that, all hot and heavy, was for me one of the hardest things I’ve done in my fucking life. I wanted nothing more than to completely annihilate her, fuck her until the only thing she could think about was me. But unfortunately, there was another matter that required my attention.

Christian and Luca were nowhere to be seen. I could only assume they were off gallivanting with Lukyan.

Alessandro always did like to criticise me about those two. Granted, they’re young – at twenty-two, they were practically babies in the Mafia world – and at times they could both be extremely childish. But none of that deterred me from their greatest quality. Loyalty.

“She alright?” Aleksandr asked as I made my way over to him.

“She’s fine.”

Aleksandr nodded and turned, leading me through the house in silence. It’s something I’ve come to notice about the giant. He didn’t speak unless he had to and when he did, it was always straight to the point. No screwing around. No unnecessary words. It made me wonder if he’d ever had any fun in his life.

Once we got outside, we took a short walk until we came across a large warehouse. It looked like any other normal warehouse, aside from the fact it was located on residential property instead of an industrial area. However, appearances can often be deceiving. It may have looked like your everyday garden variety warehouse, but inside it was a completely different story.

The entire floor was covered in every single piece of gym equipment known to man. Leg press, arm curls, leg extensions, chest press, squat rack. You name it, and they fucking had it. They even had their own boxing ring! And it looked state of the art too. I was impressed, to say the least. The warehouse seemed to stretch on for miles, with doors blocking off access to other areas. It made me curious about what else was in this place.

Without losing stride, Aleksandr manoeuvred his way around the endless amount of machines with ease, until we reached a large steel door. After placing his finger on the scanner, the door started to slowly open, creaking as it went.

“Before we continue, I feel like I should warn you,” Aleksandr’s deep voice was laced with his thick Russian accent.

“Yes?”

His bright blue eyes connected with my mix-matched ones as he spoke. “My father can be quite. . . particular when it comes to his interrogations.”

I frowned but remained silent, allowing him to continue.

“No matter what, do not speak unless he calls on you.”

At that, I scowled, my lips turning up in distaste. Did he seriously just tell me, Arturo De Luca, Don of The Cosa Nostra (soon to be anyway) not to speak unless I was spoken too?! Anger flowed through my veins at his lack of respect. I felt a flare of disappointment rise up within me too. I was actually starting to like the big behemoth.

Aleksandr sensed my anger and immediately raised his palms in front of him in a placating gesture. “I meant no disrespect. As I said, my father is particular about his interrogations. He doesn’t like it when anyone speaks while he’s questioning a prisoner. Not even me.”

My body relaxed slightly and the anger started to slowly dissipate. If that was truly the case, then in a way I could understand. It was clear Dimitri had some sort of routine he liked to do when interrogating someone, and obviously he didn’t like to be interrupted.

“I understand.”

Aleksandr eyed me suspiciously like he didn’t believe me, before nodding slightly and beginning his descent down the steps into the darkness.

A burst of bright, white light filled the room as Aleksandr flicked a switch on the wall. He led me down a long corridor. We walked past several doors, both on the left side and right, and my curiosity peaked. What exactly was down here? He turned a corner at the end of the hall, and I followed close behind, the sound of someone groaning in pain getting louder and louder the further we went.

We eventually came to a stop in front of a door that was being guarded by one of Dimitri’s men. The heavily tattooed, muscular man nodded at Aleksandr and opened the door. We stepped inside.

It was a small space, no bigger than your average bedroom. It was mostly bare, apart from a few chairs spread throughout the room and a table littered with torture implements in the far corner. The walls and floor were stained red with blood, some of it old, like it had been there for years, and others looked fresh. Really fresh. There was a single drain located in the middle of the room, where I’m assuming the blood flowed too.

Slouching with his head hanging forward was a man bound to a chair bolted to the floor in the centre of the room. Rage nearly consumed me as the video from the attack came to the forefront of my mind. This fucker was there. He was responsible. Partly, anyway. And I couldn’t wait to make the bastard pay.

The man started to slowly raise his head, groaning as his eyes moved around the room, dazed and confused. A scream tore through his throat as he fully regained consciousness, and his mind was finally able to process the amount of pain flowing through his body. Brown orbs locked onto me before moving to Aleksandr. Confusion followed by anger flowed across his square face as he swivelled his head from side to side, trying to figure out where he was. He had short brown hair that looked like it hadn’t been washed in years. His bruised skin was covered in ink, some clearly gang related.

Even though his hands were bound behind his back, I could see he was struggling, trying to get himself free. Panic, pain and fear overtook his face as he spoke for the first time in Spanish.

“¿Por què no puedo sentir mis piernas?” Why can’t I feel my legs?

“Eso es porque mi encantadora hija cortó tu médula espinal.”That’s because my lovely daughter severed your spinal cord.

Dimitri entered the room, his big, imposing body coming to a stop beside me as he replied to the man in perfect Spanish. His blue eyes locked onto his target and a vile smirk spread across his lips.

The man growled in anger. Even though he couldn’t move his legs, he still attempted to get free. His arms struggled against the bindings as he continued to pull and pull, his face contorted in pain and anger.

Dimitri just stood there and watched the man try his hardest to escape, amusement plastered all over his face. After what felt like an eternity, the man slouched forward, his body clearly drained of energy.

“Now that that’s over with,” Dimitri moved and picked up a chair from the far corner and plopped it directly in front of the man, taking a seat. He leaned back casually, resting his ankle on his knee as he studied the man. He cocked his head to the side, his blue eyes staring the man down. “Do you know who I am?” He spoke softly, but clearly.

“No hablo ingles.” I don’t speak English.

Dimitri tsked, shaking his head. “Now Miguel, I know for a fact you’re lying.”

Miguel tensed, his body going rigid at the mention of his name.

Dimitri smiled. “Oh yes. I know who you are. I know where you live, who your family is, what you like to eat for breakfast. . . Everything. I even know your goddamn blood type,” Dimitri chuckled. “But, let me tell you something about myself, Miguel. You see, I absolutely despise liars. So, let’s try this again. Do you know who I am?” Dimitri repeated his question, this time speaking slower with more venom in his voice than I heard the first time.

Miguel’s eyes darted around the room one more time, desperately looking for an escape.

“Dimitri Volkov?” Miguel asked, his voice trembling just the slightest.

“Net.” No. Dimitri shook his head. “I asked if you know who I am, not what my name is.”

Miguel looked between Aleksandr and I with confusion. Granted, I could understand why. The two questions seemed one in the same to me, but I kept my mouth shut.

Dimitri slammed his foot back to the ground and leaned forward in his chair, clearly losing patience. Miguel flinched and shook his head.

“Aleksandr,” Dimitri barked.

“The Bratva Butcher,” Aleksandr replied automatically.

My eyes widened. The Bratva Butcher? That was him? I had first heard of The Bratva Butcher years ago, but I had no idea it was Dimitri. I assumed it was some mercenary or assassin, not the actual leader of the goddamn Bratva. The Bratva Butcher was rumoured to be the most cruel, ruthless motherfucker of all time. I heard he slaughtered an entire family line. Just wiped them off the face of the earth. Women, children…no one was safe from him.

“Da.”Yes. Dimitri’s eyes gleamed with pride at Aleksandr’s words. “And do you know why they call me The Bratva Butcher, Miguel?”

Miguel shook his head again, slowly. Like he was afraid of the answer.

A genuine smile crossed Dimitri’s face as he raised his hand into the air and clicked his fingers. I’ve only met the man three times and I could tell that he loved to pull that move.

A door off to the left that I hadn’t noticed before swung open, revealing Lukyan and Nikolai. And they weren’t alone.

“No,” Miguel whispered in shock as they dragged in four people from the other room.

Connected by a thick, metal chain were three adults – two women and a man – and a child, no older than ten. The women and child were crying hysterically, gripping onto each other for dear life. Their tear-stricken faces took in their new surroundings, and one of the women let out an ear-piercing shriek at the sight of Miguel tied to the chair.

“Miguel!” she cried, trying to run toward him, but the chain connecting them all together locked her in place. They all looked quite similar in appearance. Brown eyes, brown hair and the same olive skin. If I had to guess, I’d say they were all related, possibly siblings.

“You bastard! Let them go!” Miguel roared, desperately trying to get free. His wrists were bleeding from how hard he was pulling against his bindings.

“Do you know why they call me The Bratva Butcher?” Dimitri asked again, ignoring his outburst.

“Because you butcher people, you sick fuck!”

Dimitri laughed, his big body shaking in his chair. “Da,” he nodded his head. “I do, but there’s a little more to it than that. You see, I have a bit of an anger problem. My wife used to say I was like a raging bull. Ready to attack at the slightest provocation. When people threaten my family, all I see is red. All I feel is rage. All I want is vengeance. They call me The Bratva Butcher because I’ll not only butcher you, I’ll butcher your entire goddamn fucking family. I’ll rip them all to shreds for the sins of another and I’ll have no problem with it. Because like I said, when my family is threatened, all I see. . . is red.”

Dimitri stood gracefully, buttoning up his suit jacket. He moved and stood directly in front of the child. A little girl. She shivered and tried to squirm away as Dimitri raised his hand and started slowly stroking her hair.

“Don’t touch her!” Miguel growled. “Let her go! She has nothing to do with this!” Miguel pulled harder against his restraints, desperate to escape.

Dimitri’s head snapped to Miguel; his blue eyes lit with fire. “Oh, but she does,” Dimitri hissed, continuing to stroke her hair as he spoke to Miguel. “Did you seriously think you could come after my only daughter, my own flesh and blood, and there wouldn’t be any consequences?”

Dimitri scoffed and gripped the little girl by the back of her neck, making her cry out in pain.

“You fucker! Stop it!” Again Miguel tried to break free, but it was no use.

“Why? You tried to do much worse to my daughter. Why should I spare your daughter pain when you weren’t going to do the same for mine?”

“Because she’s just a child!” Miguel begged.

“Illayana is a child! MY CHILD!” Dimitri roared, trembling with rage. “It doesn’t matter if she’s ten or a hundred. She will always bemy child! And you tried to take her from me. Tried to hurt her! Had she not had protection, you may have succeeded.”

The little girl started sobbing uncontrollably, trying to get free of Dimitri’s ironclad grip. The two women and the man looked on in horror as Dimitri roughly handled the little girl.

Miguel looked frantically around the room, his brown eyes jumping from person to person, looking for something, anything, that might help him.

Aleksandr, Nikolai and Lukyan all stood with their hands clasped behind their backs, their faces impassive. If he was looking for help from them, he wasn’t getting it.

Miguel lowered his head in defeat. “What do you want?”

Dimitri smiled and released the little girl. She immediately buried herself into the women next to her, trying to hide. He sat back down in his seat across from Miguel, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“You have two choices. First choice, you tell me everything you know. I want everything. Why you tried to kidnap Illayana, what you planned to do with her once you got her, every goddamn thing. Do that, and I’ll give your family a quick and painless death.”

Huh? Usually when people cooperated, their reward wasn’t death. Unless death was the better option?

Miguel frowned. “Why would their death be an incentive for me to tell you what you want to know?”

A malicious smile crossed Dimitri’s face. “Because of your second option. If you don’t talk, I’ll sell your sisters to sex slavers.” Miguel paled, all the colour draining from his face. “I’ll keep you alive, so you can live every day knowing that men are defiling the ones you love. Your brother, I’ll chuck in the fight pits. Perhaps he can make me some money,” Dimitri shrugged. “And then, when you can’t bear to live any longer, I’ll sell you too. So your body will be just as broken as your mind.”

Holy fucking shit. This man was fucking ruthless! Note to self: never hurt Illayana.

“I personally am not involved in the skin trade,” Dimitri continued. “However, Illayana’s God Father is. You may have heard of him. . . Mikhail Vasolv.”

If it was even possible, Miguel’s face turned even whiter, and I couldn’t blame him. The Cosa Nostra aren’t involved in the skin trade either, but we know all the key players.

Mikhail Vasolv was a man of horror, the type of man people have nightmares about. He’s the guy you go to if you’re looking to buy or sell women. Or even men, if that’s what you’re in too. Rumour has it, he likes to break in the girls first before putting them on the market. And he’s completely viscous about it. Vincenzo told me he once heard that Mikhail had broken a woman so bad, she committed suicide. Slit her wrists with a soda can.

Tears burst from Miguel’s face as he looked at his family. “Please,” he begged. “Just let them go and I’ll tell you anything you want to know. I swear it.”

“Net,” Dimitri shook his head. “There is no scenario here where your family lives. You went after my family, now I go after yours.” The women started to sob loudly at Dimitri’s words. “The only choice you get to make is whether your family dies quickly, or slow and painfully. And I can guarantee you, Mikhail would make it painful.”

Miguel slumped forward, all the fight in him evaporating. His eyes ran over his family, filled with so much regret and sorrow. I knew 100% what I would do in his situation. There’s no way I’d let Illayana be sold to a sex slaver.

Dimitri started tapping his foot, his patience wearing thin. “Decide. Now,” he snapped, narrowing his eyes.

“Option one,” Miguel said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dimitri smiled, flicking his wrist. Lukyan and Nikolai grabbed the chains holding the prisoners together and started leading them out the way they came. Miguel watched as they left the room, his face filled with sadness.

Dimitri leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at Miguel. “Why did you try to kidnap Illayana?”

“Because Nero ordered us to.”

I fucking knew it. That old shitfuck of a Gambino tried to steal my fiancé! It took everything in me not to leap across the room and pummel him for more information. I clenched my fists at my side, determined to stay in place and exert my self control.

Dimitri narrowed his eyes. “Why? Why did he want her?”

“To keep you from interfering.”

“Interfering in what?”

“His crusade against the De Lucas. He doesn’t want you helping them, arming them with your guns. He wants you to butt the fuck out and mind your own business. He planned to keep her and threaten her life if you got involved.”

“That was a big mistake. By making a move against her, he’s made himself another enemy.”

“You were already an enemy. The second you agreed to merge your family with the De Lucas, you became his enemy.”

Dimitri pursed his lips and tapped a finger on his leg. His brows lowered in thought as he processed Miguel’s words. “Why are The Los Zetas helping him? Is your boss his new bitch?”

Miguel narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “My boss is nobody’s bitch,” he snapped.

Dimitri back handed him. Miguel’s head whipped to the side at the force of it. “Watch your tone. Answer my question.”

Miguel ran his tongue across his bleeding lips, eyes burning with rage. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Dimitri repeated slowly.

“No, I don’t. Our second, Juan, just told us we had to follow Nero’s orders.”

“And you didn’t think to ask why?”

Miguel gave him an ‘are you serious?’ look. “You don’t question orders from Juan. He tells you to do something and you do it. You ask questions, you get shot.”

Dimitri pursed his lips as he studied him.

“Why does Nero have such a hard on for my family? I highly doubt all this shit is happening because my father stole his girl nearly thirty years ago.”

Dimitri stiffened. Aleksandr cursed and narrowed his eyes at me.

Whoops. Forgot about his little bit of advice. Oh well.

“How the fuck should I know? I’m just a grunt. I don’t get told about anything substantial. They tell me to go somewhere and kidnap some bitch and I do it. You wanna know more? Kidnap one of his men.”

“You are one of his men,” I scowled.

“No, I’m not. I’m cartel, through and through. Just because I take orders from that Italian scum doesn’t mean I’m one of his men.”

Confusion flared through me. There was clearly no love lost between the Cartel and the Outfit, so why the fuck where they taking orders from Nero? This whole thing wasn’t making any fucking sense and it was driving me crazy.

Dimitri rose to his feet and walked over to his son. He held his palm out facing upwards and Lukyan stepped forward, placing a pad and pencil in his hand. Dimitri walked over to Miguel and released his bindings, setting him free. Miguel instinctively touched each wrist, something everyone seemed to do after they’d been cuffed.

Dimitri laid the pad and pencil in Miguel’s lap and pointed a finger at him. “I want names of every fucker in your organisation, addresses for every safe house you’ve got and any more information you have on Nero and what he plans to do.”

Dimitri pinned me with his gaze and tilted his head towards the door. “A word, Arturo.”

Without waiting for a response, he headed out the door.

I scowled at Miguel, pissed that I wasn’t getting my pound of flesh right now and moved to follow Dimitri. Aleksandr and Nikolai both gave me nods of encouragement, while Lukyan stuck his tongue out and gave me the finger.

I shook my head and chuckled as I walked out of the room, shutting the door behind me. Dimitri was waiting just outside, arms crossed over his chest and his brows drawn down in a scowl. I arched an eyebrow at his aggressive stance.

“Get your father on the phone. We need to discuss how to handle this situation.”

I bristled at the clear command and glared. ‘Don’t bark at me like I’m one of your soldiers, Dimitri.’

He may be Pakhan of the Bratva but that didn’t mean he could talk to me like I was his bitch. There was no way I was going to take that shit.

Dimitri arched an eyebrow in surprise. I don’t think he was used to anyone speaking up to him like that.

Well, he better get fucking used to it.

“You might as well know now; my father is stepping down as Don the moment this shit with Nero is handled. He’s put me in charge of dealing with this, so if you need someone to talk to about what to do next, you talk to me.”

Shock flashed across Dimitri’s face. It was the first time I had ever seen him at a loss for words. He looked me up and down, assessing me. “Are you ready?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” Because I was ready. I was born for this.

He nodded. “We need to discuss the next course of action to take then.”

“After,” I barked, turning around and placing my hand on the doorknob.

Before I could open the door, Dimitri spoke. “After what?”

I glanced over my shoulder and raised my chin in the air. “After I cut Miguel to pieces.”