Claimed Bratva Virgin (Yezhov Bratva #4)

Chapter 13 - Rafayel

Between dealing with the mess some idiot called Rocky caused with cops at the casino and trying to track down some amateur gang that tampered with one of our safe houses, my afternoon had been shit.

Now, there was some other disaster to take care of. Apparently, a sparring session gone wrong between two grown-ass men. The ring was chaos, and while the rest of the men stood by the sidelines observing the chaos as though it was just another sport, Maxim waved his gun in the air and gave a clear aim at Vasili’s head.

Beads of sweat ran rivulets down his back, from his bare torso to his shorts, and he looked mad, with a crazed look in his eyes. This wasn’t the first time I’d witnessed Maxim’s fuse blown to shards, and that was why most of the men preferred keeping their distance.

Today, however, the ring was a battleground between two of my best field soldiers, and the others were enthused spectators.

“I swear, I’m going to fucking blow your head off,” Maxim roared loudly in Russian.

Vasili spat and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Put the gun down and fight like a real man, bastard.”

The tough guy didn’t look the least perturbed, and at the corner, I caught Tikhon watching with an equally indifferent expression. He had hard eyes fixed on the two hyperactive men, one hand tucked across his chest and the other lifting a cigarette to his lips. He must have sensed me watching because his eyes met mine, and he walked around the ring to join me.

None of the others had noticed me yet, and I didn’t plan to reveal myself until I figured out what the hell was going on.

At the same time, Maxim tossed his gun to one of the new recruits outside the ring, and Vasili seized the chance to deliver a clean right hook to his jaw, which sent him sprawling. The walls echoed with the sound of knuckles connecting with flesh, and a splash of red flowed from Maxim’s nose and mouth.

“That was fucking dirty,” Tikhon commented beside me and blew out smoky clouds from his mouth. I agreed. But Vasili preferred playing dirty. It’d always been his style.

“She’s a fucking slut like the rest of them, bastard,” Vasili barked, dealing another blow to Maxim’s right rib without giving him a chance to recover. Then, he dealt another and another, smashing the same side until we thought Maxim’s rib cage was going to cave in.

With a frown, I faced Tikhon. “This shit is about a woman?”

He didn’t look at me, but his lips curved with the smallest smile. “This shit is about Vasili fucking Maxim’s sister.”

“Shit.”

We both laughed. If that was the case, Maxim wouldn’t stay down for very long, and that would mean Vasili had hell to pay. It was going to be a tough match but an interesting watch, and at least one of them would suffer more broken bones and bruised joints.

It also meant money could be made.

Watching the two of them go at it, clawing at each other with bones snapping and crimson saliva flying everywhere, I told Tikhon, “Five hundred bucks on Maxim.”

“Not today.” Tikhon shook his head. “Six hundred bucks on Vasili. He’s going to beat the shit out of him.”

“Means you’re on his side for fucking his sister?”

We weren’t big on morals, especially not when we thrived on fostering the very mechanisms that cut corners around that foundation. But hurting or taking advantage of family stirred a blood thirst. And I was big on that.

When Tikhon looked at me with a smirk on his lips, I knew the bastard had a secret of his own. “Works at a flower shop on weekdays and a call girl in Nevada on weekends. Crazy how Maxim only just figured it out. I’m not on Vasili’s side, but I’ve fucked the girl. More than a dozen of our men know she tastes like strawberries.”

I didn’t need more details. Shaking my head, I rolled my eyes and looked back to the ring to see Vasili straddling Maxim’s lap, dealing his blows from the left cheek to the right and back again.

But I was curious about Tikhon’s choice. “Why Vasili then?”

He shrugged with a shoulder. “Easy. Maxim’s distracted by emotions. He cares a great deal about her, you know? She’s the only family he’s got left, and she’s his soft spot. That means he’s fighting with his heart. Vasili, on the other hand, has got everything in place. His cock’s in his shorts; his head’s screwed on the right, and, see—watch that swing. Did you see that? He’s playing dirty, but he’s calculated every fucking....”

Tikhon’s explanation faded amid grunts and loud Russian curses from angry men. I began to feel a strange connection to this charade.

Speaking of women, their mania was a welcomed distraction to rampant thoughts of the Italian princess who constantly plagued my mind for weeks.

I’d done my part: I kept my distance. There were no on-site meetings, messages, or other such activities. The problem was that I wished I hadn’t.

Nothing was as challenging as keeping my fingers to myself when they itched to grab the phone and just call her. I wanted to see her again, to know what she was doing, every single minute of every fucking day. When I conquered that desire and kept my hands to myself, it didn’t matter what business I had going on; I had a hard time concentrating.

Was this obsession?

I didn’t know, couldn’t tell. There was no woman on the planet who could boast of having such an effect. One night meant one night. The next morning, I wouldn’t even remember what her titties looked like. I’d be out that door in seconds without feeling some magnetic pull that made me want to look over my shoulder to make sure she was secure.

It happened that morning, when I left Leonora sleeping peacefully on that bed.

Her voice. I thought I needed to hear it again, this time moaning my name in my fucking ears while I fucked her on my bed. Or better yet, feel her fingers in my hair. I liked it when she kissed me and acknowledged my scar with her lips, too. The thought of her moving on with another man, curling around his arm like she did mine, was like driving a torch through my chest. It fucking burned.

Christ. Fuck. I knew what this was, this seemingly unquenchable fire that blazed when I thought of her: fucking attraction.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, thinking it was Andrei. The man might just have telepathic powers to know when to burst my bubble.

It wasn’t.

I turned my back to the growing bloodbath on the ring, pressing the phone to my ear to mute out the noise. “Any news?”

The rapid tapping of keys echoed over the phone before Urvan’s low voice came through. “Yes. Bad. She’s in trouble.”

Knowing I couldn’t have her didn’t mean I couldn’t keep my eyes on her. It just didn’t have to be my eyes. Urvan was the best private investigator I’d hired for the job. Some days, I knew what she had for breakfast, her routine before she went to her father’s estate, the last person she spoke to before turning in for bed, and, most importantly, how close Marco stayed by her side.

Urvan wasn’t done talking, and that was the only reason I hadn’t sprang into action yet. Red clouded my vision, and rage simmered beneath my skin. When Urvan mentioned Rossi, I frowned, and beside me, Tikhon noticed. He looked away from the match, keeping his eyes on me.

“Send me her location now.”

The call dropped, and Tikhon stayed glued to my side. “Problem with Rocky?”

Fuck Rocky. I couldn’t answer Tikhon, mainly because my mind was screwed, and the English words in my brain were fried. When I spoke, my anger flowed in Russian, and it was directed at the two lunatics in the ring who were still going at each other.

Vasili was roaring and gesticulating wildly with his arms. “Maybe if you took good care of her and provided for her needs, she wouldn’t have to be sucking cocks for a living. Did ya ever think about that?”

“Son of a—”

Maxim dived in for a kill, and I chose that moment to show myself.

“Enough!”

There was some bitching from the other men when the fighters paused and turned to me, breathing fast and heavy.

The muscles in my body burned with a rage I was not accustomed to. I was not only attracted to Leo, but I felt protective of her, too. And needed to get to her immediately with the help of these clowns. If they didn’t get the fuck out of there, I was going to pummel the shit out of both of them.

“You.” I glared at Maxim, ignoring his swollen face shining with blood and sweat. “I don’t fucking care if he screwed your sister ten different ways up to Mars. Get the fuck out here, and have the men moving to the location I’ll send you. Vasili, you’re with Tikhon. Stick with him and do whatever shit he tells you to.”

“Yes, Boss.”

They glared at each other before dragging their bruised bodies out of the ring. Between them, Maxim had it worse. There were swollen red and purple patches everywhere on his body. He winced and limped while flexing his jaw as he cleared the floor.

And before we legged it toward the door with the rest of the men, Tikhon leaned in with a smugness I wanted to wipe off his face. “It’s the girl, isn’t it?”

Glaring at him, I didn’t answer.

But Tikhon was feeling awfully excited because he wasn’t deterred. Leaning in again, he stretched his hand out and flexed it. “You owe me six hundred bucks, Zver .”