Forced to Marry the Bratva: Age Gap Mafia Romance (Zolotov Bratva Book 5)

Chapter 10 - Genevieve

I ring the bell. This is the first time I’m visiting Anoushka’s house, a quiet townhouse in the East of Philadelphia.

I’m so saddened by the circumstances that bring me here, that I barely notice the dazzling flowers illuminated by the fairy lights she has on in the path to the house.

The door opens. Anoushka’s smiling face greets me, her eyes twinkling with love. “Genevieve! Finally, you’re here. Come in, come in.” Her voice is like a melody, warm and inviting.

I’m confused. Why isn’t she as worried as I am over Damien’s disappearance?

She leads me to her lavish living room and motions for me to sit on a comfortable leather recliner. “It’s the best seat in the house, I swear!” she says.

I don’t reply. I just sit and wring my hands in anxious motions.

She observes me for a few seconds, then walks over to me and gets on her knees, taking my hands in hers. “Don’t worry, my dear,” she mutters, looking up at me. “I swear we’ll get to the bottom of this. I’m just so glad you called and trusted me with what worries you. That’s what family’s about, isn’t it?”

I nod, feeling calmer. It’s like she can read my mind.

“What if he’s in trouble, Anoushka?” I ask. “What if he’s hiding something?”

“Then we’ll help him out of whatever little mess he’s in. I promise we’ll find out what’s happening. It’s just not like him to disappear without a word for so long,” Anoushka exclaims, her eyes sparkling with determination.

She jumps to her feet, a dizzying whirlwind of energy. “I was waiting for you to arrive. I’m going to call Lev now. He must know something.”

She dials Lev’s number and puts him on speakerphone, motioning for me to stay silent.

“Hey, Sis! What’s up?” Lev’s voice booms through the speaker, sounding jovial and carefree as always. In the background, I hear loud music, chatter, and people laughing.

“Lev, I need your help. Do you have any idea where Damien is? He’s gone off the grid,” Anoushka asks sweetly, her tone dripping with false innocence.

“Damien? No idea. Why would I know where he is?” Lev yells back, feigning ignorance.

Anoushka rolls her eyes, and I can tell she doesn’t believe him for a second.

“Really, Lev? You expect me to believe that?” Anoushka challenges, her voice taking on a steely edge. “You’re his goddamn go-to person, and you’re telling me you have no idea where he is?”

“Sorry, Anoushka. I really don’t know,” Lev insists, though I can hear the hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Anoushka smirks, sensing an opening. “Well, if you’re not going to help me find Damien, then I guess I’ll just have to call Boris. If not Boris, Ivan, perhaps. They won’t think twice about getting their men to trace our brother, and if they learn anything untoward, and that you knew all along, it won’t be good for you or Damien.”

My heart lurches at her threat. I want to find Damien, but not at the expense of getting him in trouble with our Pakhans. Boris and Ivan would admonish him severely for causing such scandalous worry, and Damien would never forgive me for taking it so far. I extend my hands in the air to get Anoushka’s attention and mouth a vehement “No” in silence. She winks at me and makes it clear she doesn’t mean it.

Her little trick works when Lev panics. “Wait, what? Anoushka, no! Don’t call them!” Lev’s voice wavers with stress, knowing that involving his brothers would only escalate the situation. “Fine, fine. I’ll tell you.”

Anoushka shoots me a triumphant glance as we await Lev’s response. A tense silence fills the room, broken only by the muffled music still playing in the background of Lev’s call.

“Damien’s at a gentlemen’s club with me,” Lev finally admitted, his voice laced with reluctance. “We’re just enjoying some drinks and... company. The strippers here are bangin’.”

“Ugh, you’re disgusting!” Anoushka snaps before hanging up the phone. But as much as she expresses her disgust, I can’t help but notice the excitement in her eyes.

“Damien is at a gentleman’s club?” I can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at the thought of my husband in such a place. It isn’t like him—or at least, not the side of him I had come to know. I feel my heart shatter. I know ours is just an arranged marriage, but to know that Damien’s visiting establishments with women for hire just makes me sick to my stomach.

Anoushka shakes her head, her eyes glinting with certainty. “No, Damien would never go to such a place. But we’re still going to find him.”

While I feel relieved to learn my husband’s innocence in such hedonistic activities, I also start to worry. “Wait, what? How?” I press, struggling to make sense of the situation.

“Trust me on this one, Genevieve,” Anoushka responds, her voice laced with the authority that only a sister who knows her brothers like the back of her hand holds. “Lev’s going to be worried after our call, and I’d bet anything that he’ll go looking for our brother. I know this club Lev’s at, Club Noir. We need to catch him leaving, and when he does, we’re going to follow and find Damien ourselves.”

Her plan slowly begins to take shape in my mind: go to the club, follow Lev, and find Damien. As much as I want to trust her instincts, I can’t shake off my reservations. “Are you certain this will work? What if Lev catches on?” I ask doubtfully.

“We just need to stay close to Lev without being seen. We’ll find Damien, I promise,” she replies without hesitation, her confidence infectious.

I stand and nod, steeling myself for the daring adventure ahead. I see no other way, and Anoushka has given me the confidence I seek. With newfound determination, I nod at her and whisper, “Let‘s do this.”

***

We climb into her sleek black car, and the engine purrs to life. We speed off toward Club Noir, where Lev is supposedly enjoying himself with Damien.

As we near the club, anxiety churns in my belly. This is a world and situation entirely foreign to me. But then, I remember how desperate I am to get through to my husband, and I push those fears aside.

“Anoushka, what’ll happen if Lev spots us?” I ask, my voice betraying my unease.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it all figured out,” she reassures me, her eyes never leaving the road. “We’ll park down the street and keep an eye on the entrance. Once he leaves, we’ll follow him from a safe distance.”

“Okay,” I reply, nodding slowly as I try to quell my racing thoughts.

Finally, we pull up to a nondescript building with neon lights illuminating its fa?ade. We park a reasonable distance away, making sure our car remains concealed from prying eyes. As we sit in the shadows, I can’t help but feel like a spy in some thrilling espionage movie. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

“Look,” Anoushka whispers, pointing toward the entrance of the club. “There’s Lev.”

I lean forward, straining to see him through the dimly lit street. Sure enough, there is was, his tall frame and long hair unmistakable even from this distance. He steps out onto the sidewalk, taking a moment to light a cigarette before heading toward a sleek, silver car.

“Time to go,” Anoushka says, her voice low.

As we watch Lev drive away, we carefully pull out behind him, maintaining a safe distance to avoid detection. My heart pounds in my chest with each passing moment, anticipating what we might uncover about Damien and the life he seems to be hiding from me.

Little do I know, our adventure has only just begun.

***

The city lights whizz by as we trail Lev’s car. I grip the door handle tightly, my nerves fraying with each unexpected turn he takes. Anoushka drives expertly through the labyrinth of streets, her eyes never leaving Lev’s taillights.

“Where do you think he’s going?” I ask, not familiar with this route

“Hard to tell,” Anoushka replies, her tone equally confused. “But we’ll find out soon enough.”

Our pursuit leads us to an area of the city I have never ventured into before—dark, secluded, and seemingly forgotten. Lev pulls up in front of a derelict building, its crumbling walls barely illuminated by a flickering streetlight. I can’t fathom what business he could have here, but there is no turning back now.

“Park farther down the street,” I suggest. “We don’t want him to see us.”

Anoushka nods, steering our car to a spot hidden in the shadows. We watch as Lev exits his vehicle and disappears through a rusted iron gate.

“Stay close,” Anoushka whispers, her eyes bright with determination. “And be quiet.”

We creep along the damp sidewalk, and my heart is pounding against my ribcage. As we follow Lev’s footsteps through the narrow passageway, the sounds of the city fade away, replaced by the eerie silence of this desolate place.

“Genevieve...” Anoushka murmurs, her voice laced with concern. “Are you sure about this? It isn’t too late to turn back.”

I hesitate, my thoughts racing with all the possible dangers that could await us. But the desire to uncover Damien’s secrets overpower my fear. “No,” I say firmly. “I need to know what he’s hiding from me.”

I need to know how to get close to my husband. I need answers to feel a little less worried and lonely.

“Alright,” Anoushka sighs, her grip on my arm tightening. “But if anything goes wrong, we stick together and get out of here. Deal?”

“Deal,” I agree, swallowing the lump in my throat.

As we continue down the passageway, it gives way to a door that opens up into a dimly lit, cavernous space. We walk down a hallway filled with doors and, at last, reach the end. Through that door, we hear an electric, almost deafening energy.

“What the hell?” I gasp as Anoushka opens the door, and we peer inside. Right in front of us are hundreds of people, mostly men, and the air in the room is thick with sweat and testosterone; the deafening roar of a frenzied crowd echoes off the walls. My eyes widen as I take in the sight before me: an underground fighting ring packed with spectators thirsting for violence.

“Damien’s here,” Anoushka whispers, her voice barely audible over the din. “Of course he is. Why didn’t I think of it earlier? I thought he left…” she speaks now, almost to herself.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I inquire in panic.

“Damien, he—” but just then, she stops speaking, and her eyes go wide as she points a trembling finger toward the center of the room. “Look,” she bellows at me, directing me to one of the makeshift rings. “There he is.”

My breath catches in my throat as I spot Damien, stripped down to only his shorts, his lean muscles glistening with sweat under the harsh lights. The man I knew as my husband, lean, reserved, and polished in his tailored suits, is gone. In his place stands a savage warrior, every inch of him radiating power and menace. His arms and back are covered in intricate tattoos that seem to come alive as he moves, adding to his imposing presence.

“Is that really him?” I whisper, unable to tear my eyes away from the spectacle.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Anoushka sighs, her brow furrowed with worry. “This is his dark secret, Genevieve. This is what he does to escape the pressures of our world. This is what I thought he’d left behind when Boris told him to give it up.”

“But why?” I demand, my voice cracking with emotion. “Why would he do this?”

“Because it’s in his blood,” she replies solemnly. “No matter how hard he tries to suppress it, the Zolotov rage always finds a way to surface. And for Damien, this is his outlet.”

Just then, Damien delivers a brutal punch to his opponent, sending the man crashing to the ground. In that instant, the room erupts around us, and everyone urges him on with “Killer! Killer! Killer!”

In that instant, my hands turn cold. I realize now that these hundreds of spectators are calling my husband The Killer, and he’s reveling in it, prancing in that ring like a lion waiting to be let out of its cage. Watching him is exhilarating, exciting, and, most of all, terrifying.