Bratva Bride (Bratva Series Book 1)

I was watching The Witcher in the lounge room when a commotion at the front door made me frown, pausing the TV. Voices fluttered to me, and I instantly recognised that high-pitched squealy voice.

Tatiana.

“Move it, Lukyan!” she snapped, and I rolled my eyes. Only she would have the audacity to order someone of Lukyan’s stature around.

Tatiana rounded the corner and stepped into the lounge room looking as regal as ever in a stylish green dress and gold, strappy sandals that travelled all the way up her to her calves. Lukyan followed a moment later, hands overfilled with so many binders he could barely see where he was going and grumbling loudly.

“Ah, there she is! The bride to be!” Tatiana said excitedly, clapping her hands.

I got to my feet and gave her a hug. I stared at the binders. “What’s all this?”

“These, my dear best friend, are the plans for your wedding!” She clicked her fingers repeatedly. “Come on Lukyan, over here,” she said, pointing to the couch, not that he could see it.

Lukyan growled and dropped the binders to the ground where he stood.

Tatiana gasped. “What are you doing?!” she screeched, dropping to her knees to reorganise everything.

“I’m not your damn slave,” Lukyan grunted. “And I’m not doing anything to help this wedding. It’s a bad idea.”

I rolled my eyes and helped Tatiana pick everything up, placing some of the binders on the couch. “You need to get over it. I’m marrying Arturo whether you like it or not. You’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Fine, but don’t come crying to me when he cheats on you with some tall, skinny bitch in the famiglia. Coz you know he will.” He turned and stomped away.

“Oh my god, is that a possibility?” Tatiana asked, juggling the rest of her binders and coming over to the couch, taking a seat.

“Not if he wants to live, no,” I replied, one hundred percent serious. I would fucking kill him if he did something like that.

Tatiana laughed. “Of course, look who I’m talking to here.” She shook her head. “Alright! Let’s get planning!”

I groaned and plopped down next to her. “I told you, I didn’t want any part in the planning. I’m fine with getting married at City Hall or some shit.”

“You are not getting married at City Hall. Over my dead body. Come on, I need you to make some decisions.”

Sighing loudly, I hunkered down and prepared for the worst time of my life. The ‘decisions’ she needed me to make were so insignificant I couldn’t even fake being interested. Whenever she gave me options on something – the flowers, the linen, the silverware – I just chose at random, not giving a flying shit. Because I didn’t. I wasn’t this type of woman. I liked weapons, fighting, doing dangerous and reckless shit. Not frilly dresses and fucking centrepieces. It all gave me a headache and by the second hour I couldn’t even pretend to give a shit anymore.

I shook my head, slamming the binder filled with different colour combinations shut with a growl. “I’m done! No more. For the love of God please, no more.”

Tatiana sighed and took the binder from me. “I’m surprised you lasted that long, to be honest. I was expecting you to chuck in the towel within ten minutes.” She placed all the binders to the side, stacking them on top of one another. “At least I got you to pick some things. Better than nothing.”

Yes, it was.

“You hungry? Want something to eat?”

“Yes fucking please.”

We stood and made our way to the kitchen. Flora and a few of the maids were preparing lunch, slicing food and putting them in the large pots sitting on the stove.

“What can I do for you girls?” Flora asked, adding a bunch of onions into the boiling water.

“Got anything to munch on?” I asked, leaning on the kitchen bench.

She pursed her lips. “You’ll ruin your appetite for lunch.”

“It’s for T,” I said, nodding towards my best friend.

“There’s some leftover pizza in the fridge from last night. But I think it’s your brothers.”

“Which brother?” If it was Aleksandr’s, it was a big no-no. He’d lose his fucking mind if someone ate his pizza. He was a territorial motherfucker when it came to his food, like me.

“Nikolai,” Flora responded.

“Oh, goody.” Tatiana opened the fridge and took the box of pizza, opening it and taking a slice out of the box. “Don’t mind if I do.” She bit into it, moaning in delight.

“Gimme a piece,” I whispered, and she subtly handed me a thick piece filled with chicken and cheese.

“Illayana!” Flora shouted with disappointment.

I laughed and ran out of the kitchen, Tatiana hot on my heels. We went back to the lounge room, kicked up our feet and sat back, enjoying the pizza.

“So, what’s been going on with you lately?” I asked, taking a big bite out of my slice.

She shrugged. “Nothing really. Dad’s been a real tight ass. He doesn’t want me going to college next year.”

“Why not?”

“He’s worried about my safety.” She rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t get that I can’t just sit on my ass anymore and do nothing. I already deferred for a few years because he wasn’t comfortable with me leaving home. I want to do something with my life. Study, travel, anything. Right now, the most exciting thing happening in my life is your wedding. How depressing is that?”

I looked at my best friend and the sadness flickering across her face made my heart clench. Tatiana might be a little crazy, but she had the sweetest soul. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for the people she cared about, the people she loved. She was always the first person here to comfort me whenever something shitty happened in my life, with a bottle of vodka in one hand and a joint in the other, ready to help drown my sorrows.

“Would your dad be willing to compromise?”

Hope flashed in her eyes. “Compromise how?”

“Instead of you going off to college, what if we signed you up for some online classes? Nowadays, you can study a range of things online from the comfort of your home and you’ve only got to go onto campus a few times a week.”

She gnawed on her bottom lip. “Maybe. It’s worth a try.”

I nodded. “Give it a go. If he’s still being a jackass about it, tell me and I’ll handle it.”

“Uh, oh. I don’t like the sound of that. Handle it how?”

I winked. “Leave that with me.”

The front door opened and slammed shut, making us jump. Nikolai strolled through the foyer and glanced into the lounge room. He froze when he saw us.

“Whose pizza is that?” he asked, his baritone voice hard enough to cut glass.

Tatiana picked up a slice, wrapped her tongue around the cooked dough and bit down hard, ripping a piece off. “Not sure, found it in the fridge,” she said, a teasing smile on her face.

Aggression wafted off him, his fists clenched at his side and jaw locked in anger. “That was mine.”

Tatiana shrugged and took another bite. “Now it’s mine.”

Nikolai growled and took a threatening step into the lounge room.

Fuck. An angry Nikolai was a very bad thing. It took a lot to ruffle his feathers. Out of all three of my brothers, he was always the calm, composed one. But whenever it came to Tatiana, that seemed to fly out the fucking window.

I jumped up and stood in front of him, palming his chest. “Hey Nik, Flora’s making lunch. Carbonaro, your fav. Why don’t you go see if she’s finished?” I asked, trying to distract him from my idiot best friend who insisted on antagonising him.

He hesitated briefly and then glared daggers at Tatiana before stomping to the kitchen.

I blew out a breath and turned to my best friend. “You know, one of these days, he’s gonna kill you.”

She just smiled and said, “Let him try.”

The next few days flew by in a complete blur. My time was divided between trying to fend off Tatiana and helping my father handle business. Her crazy insistence on me helping to plan the wedding when I made it perfectly fucking clear that I wanted nothing to do with it was aggravating me so badly that I took out all my frustrations on the people my father sent me after.

The Devil’s Son’s, a local MC gang we had worked with for years, decided to short us $3,000 on their last payment for a case of guns we provided, either thinking we were too dumb to notice or that they were big enough hot shots now to get away with it.

They weren’t.

My father gave me twenty men and permission to handle it any way I saw fit. I chose to walk right into their clubhouse, dressed in my sexiest black pantsuit with my four-inch Louboutins and bitch slap their Prez right in the face. Before the shock wore off, my men shoved him onto the ground and held him down while I stood over him, digging my heel into his temple and pointing a gun right between his eyes.

Risky I know, considering we were on their territory, but when you were at the top of the food chain, you couldn’t afford to show even the slightest hint of weakness.

When I asked the Prez why they shorted us, he told me I could get the money back if I sucked his cock. I shot him in the face instead. All hell broke loose at that point. Their bunny’s – that’s what they called the women who belonged to the club – screamed and cried as they ran out of the room. The other MC members were ready to take us on, until they realised who we were. Their VP, who was promoted to Prez the moment I pulled the trigger, apologised on behalf of the club and gave me back the missing money plus interest for the trouble.

The Bratva had to be cutthroat in the way we handled business. We couldn’t afford to be anything less.

Then there was the little fucker who thought it would be a good idea to try and rape one of our girls at Strip, the strip club we owned. I had a lot of fun dealing with that one. I cut his dick clean off and shoved it down his throat.

On top of all that crap, plans were being finalised to make sure the De Lucas had their gun shipment by the time of our wedding. The MP5s and M60s were easy, we basically had an endless supply of those. It was the Canadian submachine gun – the DAR7014s – that were a little tougher to get a hold of.

Large wooden crates were designed to store and transport all the weapons, each one constructed with a false bottom so the guns could be easily concealed. Since we were getting married here on my father’s estate, it was arranged that the guns would be shipped with us, when Arturo and I flew to New York City after the wedding. Aboard our own private jet, the guns would never be found. Even if for some reason the jet were to be searched, they would never be able to find the hidden compartments throughout the aircraft.

In between dealing with all that, Tatiana was there, trying to get me to pick the furniture, or decide the menu, or something else completely inconsequential to me for the wedding. It was a lot to deal with in the space of a few days.

I didn’t get to see Arturo again until the wedding, which was disappointing, but I understood. He was dealing with his own problems in the famiglia which required his absolute attention.

Suddenly, I blinked and boom, wedding day.

I woke up early Saturday morning to Tatiana and a team of beauticians standing at the foot of my bed. I had to refrain from hurling things at them, their bright and cheery faces already putting me in a sour mood.

“Happy wedding day, bitch!” Tatiana squealed, her face perfectly done with makeup and hair pristine. “Ah! I’m so excited! Let’s go, up! Up!” She yanked me out of bed by my arm and I stumbled, still half asleep.

She led me over to my ensuite and pushed me inside. “You’ve got ten minutes. We’re on a tight schedule.” Then she slammed the door shut.

I shook my head, stripped and jumped in the shower. Nerves riddled through me as I washed my hair and lathered my skin. I was beyond nervous. I was a fucking wreck. It felt like only yesterday that Arturo and I met and now I was getting ready to marry him! It was all happening so fast.

I knew arranged marriages were common in La Cosa Nostra, but for the Bratva? Not so much. Not unless it was a marriage that would significantly benefit those involved. I tried not to think about it, to think about how little we still knew about each other. The things I did know made me excited to be his wife. So, I focused on that.

Once I finished showering, I dried myself and put on the nice silk rob Tatiana had left for me. Sitting on the countertop was a glass of vodka and I sent a silent thank you to my best friend. I chugged it down like a shot, enjoying the slight burn as it travelled down my throat, and then left the bathroom.

Tatiana walked over to me, took my arm and guided me to a chair in the middle of the room that sat in front of a large mirror with numerous lights plastered all over it. She shoved me into the chair and clicked her fingers at the army of women behind her. “Alright, fix this,” she said, drawing a circle in the air around my hair. “And this.” She pointed to my face next and then walked away, leaving me at the mercy of the random women poking and prodding my body.

“Uhm, T,” I winced as my hair was getting brushed out rather vigorously.

“Ya girl?” she called out, running a handheld garment steamer over the bridesmaid dresses, completely oblivious to the pain I was in.

“Can’t I have breakfast first?”

She gasped, like what I said was complete blasphemy. “And risk you being bloated in your wedding dress? Absolutely not.” She walked over and grabbed her purse sitting on the bed and opened it, pulling out a bag of peanuts. “Have these.”

“Mmm, yum,” I mumbled sarcastically.

“Hey, if you don’t want them-” she reached out to take them back and I yanked them to my chest.

“I didn’t say that.”

She laughed and went back to steaming her dress. “Alright, so we gotta run through a couple things before we make our way downstairs.”

“Like what?” I asked, crunching on the nuts. Lucky for her, they were tasty.

“Well first, I have to warn you that I didn’t have any control over the guest list. Your father handled that.”

“Alright?” I frowned. “Why are you warning me about that?”

“Because I saw Rayna is invited.”

I sneered, the very mention of my bitch of a cousin’s name making my hackles rise. Rayna and I used to be very close growing up until her jealousy got in the way. She couldn’t stand the fact that I was more important than her. That I was higher up on the social order than she was. That it was my father who was Pakhan and not her’s. Over the years her jealousy festered, morphing into hateful emotions until finally one day, she acted on them.

Trying to get the one up on me, she convinced a now ex-boyfriend of mine to cheat on me. I’m not going to lie; I was definitely hurt by her actions and a little ticked off. Okay, a lot ticked off, but I never let it show. Never let her see how much it got to me, which in turn pissed her off even more.

She was superficial, the type of person who cared more about material possessions than the people in her life. She posted every little thing on social media, pretending that she lived some grand, glamorous life when in reality she was just a basic bitch with a fake ass life. It got to the point where I had to block her on Instagram and Tik Tok because I couldn’t stand looking at all that fake bullshit.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” I said, looking at my best friend in disbelief.

“I tried to tell your brother that you and Rayna aren’t on good terms, but they said your cousin and uncle had to be invited. It was non-negotiable.”

“For fuck sake,” I hissed, shaking my head. “You know she’s gonna make a move on Arturo. The bitch can’t help herself.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle her, alright?”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I had no doubt she would handle her but- “Just don’t do anything too crazy. My uncle isn’t the type of guy you want to cross.”

“Oh, I know,” she said, giving me a serious look.

“You said there were a couple of things we had to run through? What else?”

They were minor things, like the fact the florist delivered the wrong flowers and we didn’t have a vegetarian or vegan option in case some of the guests didn’t eat meat. After we hashed out the last few details it was time to get me in my wedding dress.

I stared at my reflection in awe. I couldn’t believe the transformation these women managed to make. I barely recognised myself. They had spent the last few hours meticulously going over every inch of my skin, removing any blemishes they could find. They spent an inordinate amount of time on my hair and makeup. More time than I think I’ve ever spent on either in my entire life. But I have to admit, they did an amazing job.

My long, black hair was left to flow freely down my back, a few strands braided back so they wouldn’t get in my way. My face had layers of makeup applied to it, from foundation to blush to eyeliner and mascara to my signature red lipstick. I had it all, and it looked tasteful. I didn’t look like a two-cent hooker and I guess that’s all a girl can wish for on her wedding day, right? That and not getting stood up.

My wedding dress (well my mother’s wedding dress) fit perfectly. The sleeves ran all the way down to my wrists and were made of the softest lace I’d ever felt. The bodice had an intricate design that hugged my body flawlessly, showing off all my curves in a respectful manner. The open back gave the dress the perfect style for a statement-making bride like myself. The train of the dress only ran a few metres behind me and was made of the same lace material that encompassed most of the dress.

All in all, it was beautiful. More beautiful than I originally thought. My white heels were only a few inches, putting me around 6’4. Thank the devil that Arturo is a tall motherfucker.

Tatiana sniffed, wiping a tear from her cheek. “Oh my god, you look so beautiful,” she cried, wrapping her arms around me.

I smiled and hugged her back. “Thank you for everything you’ve done, T. I would be utterly lost without you.”

“Oh, I know,” she chuckled, pulling back. She shook herself off and gave me a bright, beaming smile. “Alright, I’m going to make sure everything is in order downstairs. Try not to freak out.”

“I don’t freak out.”

She smirked. “Sure you don’t. I’ll see you out there.” She opened the door and left.

For a moment I was alone, alone with nothing but my chaotic thoughts to keep me company.

Holy fuck, I’m getting married.

My anxiety spiked. My palms started to sweat. My heart thumped so loudly I could hear it in my ears.

I can’t believe I’m getting married. Me! It’s fucking insane. I’m insane. Who marries a man they’ve only just met? Oh. . . me! A crazy woman.

I don’t think I can do this. Can I do this? No. YES! I can. I’m Illayana Rae Volkov, daughter of Dimitri Volkov, The Bratva Butcher and Pakhan of the whole motherfucking US Bratva. I can do whatever I put my mind to, right?

The sound of someone knocking on my bedroom door pierced my thoughts.

‘Illayana? Sestra?’ Sister? Lukyan’s voice was firm yet calm as he opened the door and stepped inside.

He was wearing a dark tailored tuxedo, the black dress pants and black jacket encompassing his body entirely. His long, dark hair was tied up neatly at the nape of his neck.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked, his brows furrowed as he made his way over to me.

I could see the concern etched on his face, yet I couldn’t bring myself to acknowledge it.

‘What if I’m making a terrible mistake, Lukyan? What if I can’t do this?”

I looked down at my hands, only just realising they were shaking. My entire body felt like a bundle of nerves, and I couldn’t remember a time in my life when I felt so. . . scared. I didn’t like it.

He gave me a sincere look and clasped my trembling hands in his, holding them close to his chest. ‘Sestra, breathe. You can do this. There isn’t anything in this world you can’t do. The question isn’t if you can do this, it’s do you want to?’

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in, taking comfort in his presence. I reopened my eyes to Lukyan watching me intently. ‘I do. I’m just nervous. Not only am I marrying a man I only just met last week, I’m packing up my entire life and moving hundreds of miles away from the only home I’ve ever known. From the only family I’ve ever known. The whole thing is. . . daunting,’ I sighed.

Lukyan nodded, giving me a sad smile. ‘I know. But you can take comfort in one thing.’

‘What’s that?’

His eyes flashed with excitement as his lips curved into a broad grin. ‘You’re not going alone.’

I turned to face him fully, a smile creeping onto my face as I processed his words. ‘You’re coming with me?’

He scoffed. ‘Of course I am. Did you seriously think I’d let you go without me?”

“But Father? The Bratva?”

“Will be completely fine without me,” he said, a smile still on his face.

My bedroom door opened once again and this time Aleksandr and Nikolai walked through. They were dressed in similar tuxedos to Lukyan, the only difference being the colour. Aleksandr’s was dark blue with a black bow tie, and Nikolai’s was light grey but he chose to forgo the bow tie, preferring the open collared look. Their eyes landed on me and they both gave me a broad smile, helping quell some of my nerves.

Aleksandr stepped forward first, stretching his arms out and embracing me in a tight hug. ‘You look beautiful, little sister,’ he whispered into my hair.

I leaned my head against his massive chest and breathed in his comforting scent. Nikolai and Lukyan moved to hug me as well, all three of them encasing me in one big bear hug.

‘Thank you. All of you.’ I raised my head and looked at my three older brothers.

There truly wasn’t a stronger bond in a family than siblings. Brothers were a gift from the heart, a friend to the spirit, and a protector of all.

‘Are you ready?’ Nikolai asked as I stepped back and looked into the mirror once more.

I smiled, trying to banish the last little bit of nerves running through my body. ‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’

Aleksandr and Nikolai both offered me an arm, and I looped one arm through each of theirs and let them lead me out of the room with Lukyan following close behind.

An assortment of beautiful coloured flower petals covered the ground as I made my way downstairs. An array of floral decorations adorned the house as we walked through, the entire floor devoid of any other living soul apart from us.

With each step I took, I could feel my nerves coming back. Could feel my body start to shake and sweat roll down my back.

Relax. Breathe. You’re going to be fine.

We entered the kitchen to find my father standing tall and proud next to the double glass sliding door that led to the patio outside. A large black curtain covered the entire length and width of the door, obscuring the view outside.

My father’s eyes snapped to me as we walked in and he froze. For a terrifying second, I feared he was angry I chose to wear my mother’s dress. But as he walked towards me, I could see the emotion on his face. Something he always tried so hard to hide.

A single tear escaped his eyes and ran down his cheek as he stood in front of me. He raised a hand, softly tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. ‘You look so much like your mother,’ he whispered, sadness lacing his thick Russian accent.

I smiled, trying to speak but all that came out was a whimper. ‘I wish she was here.’

His chin trembled slightly, his eyes moistening as he looked at me. ‘Me too.’ He took a deep breath in and closed his eyes. For a moment we all stood in silence, remembering the amazing woman that influenced us all.

After a few seconds, he stepped back and cleared his throat. ‘Here we go. You ready, moja doch’?‘He offered me his arm and I looped my own arm through his, smiling.

‘Ready.’

Aleksandr and Nikolai moved to the glass sliding doors in unison. As Aleksandr reached for the handle, his arctic blue eyes shot to me for one last confirmation, and I nodded.

He simultaneously opened the door and pulled back the curtain, revealing our large outdoor patio that was filled with people. I tried to ignore them all, my eyes honing in on the handsome figure at the end of the aisle. He stood beneath a tall floral arch, with Vincenzo at his side.

The theme for my wedding was clearly floral. Flowers of all different types were decorating every piece of furniture you could see. The ground was littered with rose petals of all different colours and the beauty of it took my breath away, even though I wasn’t an overly big flower girl. Tatiana did an amazing job. No wonder she kept asking me to pick fucking flowers.

A makeshift aisle was made leading directly from the door to where Arturo stood. Beautiful white chairs were placed on either side, each one occupied with a member of our families. I caught a glimpse of the twins, dressed in sharp, black suits and Lorenzo on the groom’s side. Christian and Luca both gave me a thumbs up while Lorenzo smiled reassuringly.

‘Ocean Eyes’ by Billie Eilish started to play, and everyone who was seated immediately rose to their feet.

My father gripped my arm tightly and began leading me down the aisle.

As we got closer, I took in Arturo’s appearance.

Dear God, how is one man this fucking handsome?!

He wore a stunning dark red Brioni suit with a black tie. It was tailored to fit his build perfectly, accentuating those hard-earned muscles and broad shoulders. His dark hair was kept short and styled neatly. When we locked eyes, his lips curved into that sly, sexy smirk that made me weak in the knees. His gorgeous multi-coloured eyes sparkled, his emerald green eye and electric blue eye drawing me in instantly. I couldn’t look away, even if I wanted to.

My heart was beating a million miles a minute. If it wasn’t for the fact my father was holding my arm, I knew my legs would have given out by now.

He just looked so, damn, fiiiiiiiiiiine. The edges of his tattoos peaked out of his suit, giving off that ‘dangerous, bad boy’ vibe that made me so fucking wet. What I wouldn’t give to rip that suit off his body and fuck him right now.

Turns out being turned on helped quell my nerves. Who knew?

Arturo extended his hand, palm upwards, his eyes never leaving mine. My father leaned over and kissed me on my cheek, before placing my hand in his and taking a step back. His jaw clenched slightly, so slightly I almost missed it, and I tried to give him a reassuring smile.

Arturo’s warm hands clasped mine as he pulled me closer and up towards the priest standing underneath the floral arch.

He leaned over and whispered into my ear, his deep seductive voice sending shivers down my spine. ‘Ora sei mio.’Now, you’re mine.