Bratva Prince (Bratva Series Book 2)

My fists hit the punching bag ferociously, the jarring sensation of my hands making contact travelling up my arms with each blow. Sweat dripped down my face onto my bare chest, my breathing tight and controlled as I ran through different combos: jab, jab, left hook, right uppercut, knee followed swiftly by an elbow strike.

I viciously attacked the punching bag like it was my worst enemy. Like every strike I delivered would somehow alleviate all my pent-up anger and frustration over the last few days.

It didn’t. But it did make me feel a little better. Beating shit up usually did.

It had been five days since we rescued Illayana and kidnapped the Zetas, and so far the only thing we’d learned was that Drea was Juan’s sister.

Our usual torture techniques had no effect, which I’ll admit I found surprising. Even Angel, who I could have sworn would be the weak link, my way in, proved to be tougher than he looked.

Father didn’t care about their claims of innocence. Neither did Arturo. In their eyes, they were all guilty for being in the same room with Illayana that night. For helping Nero in his crusade against the Cosa Nostra that put her in danger. They wanted blood and pain as penance for their crimes against her.

And they paid it. Ten times over. We all watched as Arturo cut each of their dicks from their bodies. As he carved them into pieces. Their blood now stained the walls of the pit, along with all the others who’d stood against us in the past. Tried to hurt our family.

Except for Drea.

I rammed my fist into the bag with a grunt, my frustration spiking all over again. Drea’s only saving grace was the fact that she wasn’t in the room that night with the rest of the Zetas. If she had been, Father would have demanded her death too.

The part that pissed me off the most was I wasn’t sure if I would have allowed it. The thought of Drea dying, of her sassy attitude and that fiery personality disappearing forever, made my chest tighten.

What would I have done if Father told me to kill her? To torture her like the others?

All my life I’d done what my father asked, never disobeying a single order. If Father told you to do something, you did it. End of discussion.

And yet, as I laid into the punching bag with everything I had, I couldn’t say with complete certainty that if he told me to kill her, I would have. Because I honestly didn’t know.

Since finding out her identity, I’d made a conscious effort to stay away from her. I didn’t trust myself around her. Didn’t trust the feelings she brought out in me. My loss of control over the whole situation irritated me to no end. I was a man of action. Always had been. If I wanted something, I took it. I didn’t quibble over the ramifications, the consequences. I did what I wanted, when I wanted. Which was why my feelings towards Drea annoyed me so much.

I couldn’t act on them. She was the enemy. Part of a gang that kidnapped and tried to rape my sister. Yet, despite all that, I wanted her.

I’d never felt such an overwhelming need for another, such a burning ache boiling in my blood. That feral, primal side of me just wanted to hunt her. Take her. Take her and fuck her into submission. Until she was screaming my name into the night. Those full, pouty lips, luscious curves and tight little body made me crazy. Wild. Fucking savage. Add in that sassy attitude that screamed for someone to just fuck it out of her and I was absolutely consumed with the thought of having her.

Once a day, I went to see her. To offer her a chance to change her circumstances if she answered my questions. Simply told me what I wanted to know. And every day she told me to go fuck myself.

Not that surprising, to be honest.

Usually, if a prisoner behaved the way she did, I scoured their flesh, unleashed the most amount of pain a person could endure before they died. It irritated me that I couldn’t bring myself to do that to Drea, that the idea of causing her physical harm made my stomach churn. The thought of her in any type of pain brought out a fierce, protective instinct inside me that was only reserved for family.

She was beautiful. Strong willed. Brave, with a crazy erratic personality that completely excited me. I never knew what she was going to say next, what insults she was going to hurl my way. It thrilled me. And it really shouldn’t.

I normally hated when people talked back to me, disrespected me. But for some reason when Drea did it, I got hard as a fucking rock.

“Who pissed in your Wheaties this morning?”

I finished off my combo with a brutal high kick, my shin smashing into the bag with such force it swung backwards, the metal holding it in place groaning in protest. I took a deep breath and turned, finding Illayana leaning against the boxing ring, arms crossed over her chest. A cheeky as fuck grin was plastered on her face.

She was dressed casually in black sweats and a white long-sleeved shirt, her hair wound up tightly in a bun.

“Shouldn’t you be packing?” I walked over to a small bench off to the side, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat from my face.

Tomorrow, Illayana would leave to go join her now husband in New York. I was sad to see her go. The house was never going to be the same without her and Lukyan. I would never admit it to them, but I was going to miss them both.

Neither of them could go a day without getting in each other’s faces, their ridiculous fighting being one of our main sources of entertainment. Nik and I would actually bet on who would win whenever they got into a scrap. Which was often.

Speaking of, that fucker still owed me fifty bucks from the last time.

Illayana shrugged. “I don’t leave until tomorrow. I’ve got time.”

I shook my head, taking a sip from my water bottle. “You’re going to leave it to the last minute, like you always do. Then, you’re going to flip out and snap at everyone because you’re stressed about not being on time.”

“Oh, you think you know me so well, don’t you?” she said in a snarky tone.

“Because I do.” I took a seat on the bench, draping the towel over my shoulder. “For example, I know that the reason you’re standing in front of me right now is because you want something.”

She gasped, feigning innocence. “How dare-I can’t believe you would say that to me. Can’t a girl just want to spend some time with her brother before she leaves?”

I gave her a ‘who do you think you’re trying to fool’ look. “Just tell me what you want, or whatever it is, the answer will be no.”

“Okay, okay,” she blew out quickly. “I wanna spar.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Who pissed you off?” Illayana only ever wanted to spar when someone made her angry. It was her outlet, what she used to work through her anger.

“Who do you think?” she huffed, taking a seat where she stood, crossing her legs.

The sound of weights clanking, rough, masculine grunting as a few of our men worked out echoed around us. The atmosphere stunk of sweat and BO, the stench making my nose wrinkle.

“Arturo’s pissed I’m not in New York already. He wanted me there days ago, but I kept putting it off because I didn’t want to leave with everything going on right now.”

“I told you before, we’ve got it covered. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“I know, it’s just—” a distraught look crossed her face and she stopped speaking, eyes flicking to the ground.

“You’re scared,” I finished for her. “Scared something’s going to happen while you’re gone. But you’ve got to have faith that we can handle it, otherwise you’re never going to be able to relax.”

She nodded, a deep exhale leaving her mouth. “Yeah, you’re right.” Her phone dinged and she reached into her pocket, pulling it out. Her lips pursed in annoyance.

“Arturo?” I asked.

“Yes. He’s trying to bribe me into coming early.”

“Bribe you? With what?”

Her gaze shifted away from me awkwardly and I quickly raised my hand. “Nope. Forget I asked. I don’t want to know.”

She laughed softly. “Maybe I could go early. If I leave within the next few hours, I could get there by tonight.”

I got to my feet. “You can’t. You didn’t hear this from me, but Father’s planning you a surprise farewell dinner for tonight. He’s having Flora make all your favourites, and he’s even breaking out all the old school boardgames.”

Her face softened. “Aw, he’s just a big ol’ softy deep inside, isn’t he?”

“Don’t let him catch you calling him that. He’ll beat your ass just to prove he’s not.”

She winced. “Good point. You think games are a good idea though? Remember the last time we played monopoly?”

Amusement rippled through me. She had a point. The last time we played, she stabbed Lukyan in the hand with a fork when she caught him cheating, dipping into the bank and stealing money when no one was looking. From that point on, monopoly had been banned from the house.

“I’m sure it will be fine. As long as you keep your cool.”

“Me?” she pointed to her chest. “Me? Talk to Lukyan. He’s the cheater.”

I rolled my eyes. Those two were so competitive with one another. It was insane. They would compete over everything. Who could eat their dinner the quickest. Who was faster in a race. Who was the better shot. If they could compete over it, they did it.

I walked over to the boxing ring and jumped up, climbing under the ropes. I held them up in invitation. “Still want to spar?”

An excited smile curved on Illayana’s lips.

I hurled Illayana over my shoulder and body slammed her to the ground, a painful grunt falling from her lips. I scurried over her, locked her in an arm bar and reared back, stopping just before I snapped her arm in half.

Illayana screeched, her legs flailing. She tapped repeatedly on my leg, and I let her go, rolling back and landing in a crouch.

“Goddamn it!” she yelled, slapping a palm down in frustration. “Again!” she jumped to her feet, rotating her arm a few times before taking a fighting stance, her hands up guarding her face.

I chuckled softly, standing tall. Did I mention that on top of being uber competitive, she was always a sore fucking loser? “Are you sure you want to go again?” This would make attempt number three, and with each one she grew more and more annoyed that she couldn’t win.

Illayana glared. “Put your fucking hands up.”

She didn’t even give me the chance to do so. She ran at me, swinging a right hook that, if it had connected, would have hurt like a bitch. But I locked my hand around her forearm, guided her fist around me as I spun into her and hit her with a reverse elbow to the side of the head.

“Motherfucker,” she hissed, stumbling back. She shook her head out, like she was trying to clear a daze before her eyes snapped to me, full of rage.

“Ha!” Lukyan laughed, stuffing his face full of popcorn as he watched from the sidelines. He’d wandered down from the house sometime after round two, an excited look on his face, like he was a kid in a candy store. A few of our men sat beside him, whispering amongst themselves and taking bets.

We both ignored Lukyan’s taunts, Illayana advancing again. She struck out with a series of impressive combos, and I had to work hard to block each of her strikes. She put me completely on the defensive. She tracked me around the ring, attacking me from every angle. She faked right and lashed out with a high kick from the left. I brought my arm up and blocked, the contact jarring. I threw a right hook and she ducked, following through with a savage uppercut. I reared back, narrowly avoiding her fist and spun on the balls of my feet, delivering a kick to her chest (which she just managed to block using her forearms). She brought them up in an X formation across her body, so they took the brunt of the attack, grunting at the hit.

We continued to trade blows, attacking each other ruthlessly. When she realised she couldn’t get past my guard, she growled and switched tactics.

You see, the thing about my sister was she was a creature of habit. She had moves that she liked to use all the time. Now, there’s nothing wrong with that. But when you’re fighting someone who knows those moves, it puts you at a disadvantage.

She liked to do a lot of twists and turns, tapping into her gymnastics training and utilising her long legs.

So, when she leapt into the air, trying to wrap her legs around my head to slam me to the ground, I was prepared.

I coiled one arm around her leg, gripped the front of her shirt and hurled her into the ropes to my left. She didn’t have time to stop her body’s momentum, and she flung back towards me fast. I stuck my arm out and closelined her. The breath whooshed out of her and she cried out, her back hitting the ground hard.

I straddled her chest and with a quick jab, punched her straight in the face. I pulled my punch a little, making sure not to hit her with my full strength, but hard enough to make it hurt…a lot.

Her lip split, blood running down her chin, and she groaned in pain.

I got to my feet, staring down at her. “You’re done.”

“No,” she groaned again, rolling to her side. “One more.”

I shook my head. She was so fucking stubborn sometimes.

She pulled herself up, wiping the blood off her face with the back of her hand. She looked out into the small crowd gathered outside of the ring, her gaze locking on Lukyan.

He was leaning back in his chair, feet propped up and hand stuffed in the bucket of popcorn in his lap. There was an arrogant, cheeky smile on his face, like he was enjoying watching Illayana get her ass kicked.

The little shit probably was.

“Get up here,” she snapped, glaring daggers at him.

“Nuh-uh. No way. I don’t got a death wish,” he said, shaking his head.

I walked over to the ropes and held them open. “Let’s go,” I grunted, flicking my head.

When Illayana couldn’t beat me one on one, she always called Lukyan in to help her. They had more of a chance of winning if they fought together—not that they had yet. But who knows, maybe today was that day.

Lukyan’s eyes widened. “What? Why? I haven’t done anything!”

“Get your ass in here, Lukyan. I won’t ask you again.”

He groaned, taking one last handful of popcorn and stuffing it into his mouth before handing it off to one of the men. He got to his feet, licking the butter and salt from his fingers as he walked to the ring and jumped up, climbing under the ropes.

“This is bullshit. I never said I wanted to spar.”

He was right. It was a little unfair. But this was probably the last time I’d get to spar with either of them for a while. Maybe I was getting nostalgic in my old age.

Illayana and Lukyan went to one corner of the ring, and I went to another, tightening the cloths over my hands. They spoke in hushed voices, trying to come up with some sort of strategy.

Illayana grasped the air like it was somebody’s neck, shaking it violently before she started ramming her knee upwards over and over. Lukyan shook his head. He pointed at her, then himself, smashing his fist into his open palm. It was Illayana’s turn to shake her head. The voices got louder as they started to argue with each other.

I rolled my eyes. They were more likely to get into a fight with each other rather than me at this point.

Eventually they came to an agreement about how they wanted to handle the fight. They both moved, taking up their positions.

I joined them in the centre of the ring, adrenaline surging through my body. I shook out both my arms before bringing my hands up, taking a fighting stance.

I waited them out, letting them make the first move. I knew it wouldn’t take long. Both Illayana and Lukyan were impatient. They could never stand in one spot for too long without moving.

Sure enough, seemingly at the same time, they launched towards me like a rocket blasting off into space. Lukyan went for my legs, tackling me while Illayana jumped at my chest, all of us crashing to the ground in one big heap.

The move caught me by surprise. It was one they’d never used before.

They clambered over me, Lukyan trying to lock me in a knee bar and Illayana going for an arm bar.

I thrashed, bucking my body.

“Hold him still,” Illayana snapped, her legs wrapping around my arm. She was a heartbeat away from locking the hold in place.

I couldn’t allow that.

“I’m trying,” Lukyan bit back with a growl. His teeth were clenched, veins popping in the side of his neck as he tried with all his power to keep me from moving my legs.

I heaved with every bit of strength I possessed, and Illayana lost her grip. I capitalised on the opportunity. I ripped my arm out of her grasp and flung it back, smashing the back of my fist into her face.

She cried out, hands flying to cradle her busted nose.

Upper body now free, I sat up, gripped Lukyan by his hair and yanked his head back painfully. I punched him in the jaw. His hold on my legs loosened enough for me to kick free and I jumped to my feet.

Lukyan rolled and scrambled to a stand. His hand flew to the back of his head. “You ripped out some of my hair!” he yelled in outrage.

“I’ve told you for years to cut it. It’s a disadvantage,” I smirked, letting the strands in between my fingers fall to the ground.

Lukyan growled and charged me. He lashed out with a kick and I blocked it, clasping his leg tightly. I stepped into his space, hooked my leg around his and shoved him, making him lose balance and smash to the ground.

Pain shot up my back from a powerful blow and I flew forward. Years of training made me react without conscious thought, my body curving into a somersault, rolling along the floor and springing to a stand. I spun.

Illayana rushed me with a flying knee strike, hitting me in the chest. I flew back into the ropes, having just enough sense to coil my arms around the ropes to stop myself from propelling back to her.

My gaze snapped to her, and I narrowed my eyes, rubbing the ache spreading across my chest from her attack. A dark look crossed my face.

“Oh fuck,” Lukyan whispered, his voice shaking with fear. He squatted and hit the ground twice with his hand, tapping out.

Illayana had the good sense to look a little uneasy, but she didn’t back down. She squared her shoulders and raised her fists.

“On your feet,” I barked at Lukyan as I strode towards them. He wasn’t getting out of this that easy.

The second he stood I went on the offensive, attacking them both at the same time. I gave everything I had. I was done playing nice, taking it easy on them. I lashed out with both hands, throwing punch after punch, alternating between the two of them with each strike. Lukyan was too slow to block, and my punch connected with his face. I ducked under a swing from Illayana and rammed my fist into her stomach, making her wheeze and hunch over. I whirled, hitting Lukyan with a spinning back fist that knocked him on his ass.

Illayana was still bent at the waist, and I aimed a kick to her face. She quickly brought her arms up to block, but the force of the blow made her stumble back. I ran at her, faked left, stepped right and spun so I was behind her instead of in front. I wrapped my arms around her neck and squeezed, lifting her off her feet.

Lukyan came barrelling from the side and struck high with a kick. I moved Illayana into the path of the blow and he hit her on the side of the head. Illayana groaned in pain and I dropped her.

“Shit, sorry,” Lukyan winced.

I attacked him with a combo I could do in my sleep. Right hook, left jab, right uppercut, front kick. He blocked the first two but didn’t quite have the speed to stop the last two. He flew backwards, landing in a heap next to Illayana.

They both scrambled to their feet and came charging back. At the same time, they lashed out with a high kick—Lukyan on the right, Illayana on the left. Attacking simultaneously was a smart idea. But I was pissed and wasn’t about to be made a fool of. I braced, brought up both arms and blocked, pain shooting down each arm. They were powerful strikes, ones I’d commend them on later.

I coiled my left arm around Illayana’s leg, pulled her towards me and headbutted her. As she fell, I struck Lukyan with a side kick to his chest. He blocked, gripped my foot, and twisted. I rolled with the twist, using it to swing a roundhouse kick into Lukyan’s face just before my back hit the floor. I jumped back to my feet.

Lukyan recovered fast, his adrenaline soaring. He tried to tackle me, but I planted my feet to the ground, refusing to go down. He jabbed into my ribs and kidneys with short, quick punches that hurt like a damn bitch. I smashed the back of my fists down onto his back and he cried out, letting me go. I grabbed him by the back of his shirt and hurled him into Illayana just as she stood back up. They both tumbled to the ground.

Neither one of them got back up to go again.

I wiped the sweat from my brow, my chest rising and falling with deep breaths. I looked at my siblings groaning on the floor. Maybe I should feel bad for how hard I went on them, but I didn’t. I wasn’t the type of big brother who let their siblings win. I was a firm believer in making them earn it.

Today wasn’t the day they beat me, but each time we fought they were getting closer and closer. And that made me smile.