Torn Souls (Bratva Souls Duet #1)

CHAPTER 1

MAXIM

The scene in front of me is mind numbingly boring.

It shouldn’t be.

I should find it amusing.

Maybe I would if I hadn’t already seen it played out far too many times.

Ever since we took over Seattle, taking it by force from the Morozov Bratva, the cockroaches, rats, and users of the world have been coming out of the woodwork.

This is no different.

Kirill, my older brother, shoots me a look.

His face might be a mask of stone, but his eyes are brimming with annoyance.

Betty, his secretary, has no idea how close he is to snapping.

The thought of my brother, the same man who prides himself on control, losing his cool brings a smirk to my face.

I almost laugh when his eyes turn murderous.

The man is dangerous; there’s no fucking doubt about it.

I’ve seen him kill a man without hesitation.

I’ve seen him torture a man for days.

But he won’t hurt me.

And he won’t hurt Betty, even if he growls at her and glares at her wishing he could set her on fire right where she stands with her tits practically in his face.

He’ll just bark at her, which will cause her to scurry away.

Then he’ll feel bad about it even though she isn’t taking the hint about his disinterest.

It hasn’t stopped her yet from practically draping her body over his.

Or wearing clothing that pushes the boundaries of professionalism.

The man would have already fired her if she wasn’t good at her job.

It’s her only saving grace.

If she thought she could get away with it, she would spend all her time trying to tempt my brother into ravaging her.

But she’s seen Kirill fire people for incompetence and their inability to deliver on what is expected of them.

Still, nothing has stopped the woman from trying to turn his head.

I would almost admire it if I wasn’t second on her list of seductions.

Then there’s Huck and Baker.

She’s tried this little act on all of us, as if we haven’t seen her practically beg Kirill to fuck her.

The only thing she’s discreet about is not throwing herself at the rest of us in front Kirill.

If she thinks the man who swept away the worst of the dregs of society in this city, the worst of the worst, doesn’t know that she’s more than willing to hop on any of our dicks, then she’s not giving my brother enough credit.

He knows.

He’s also told us there’s no way she’s getting what she wants.

Not like any of us needed to be told that.

Betty’s desperation—to be seen, to be charming, to be praised—makes her good at her job.

But it would make her the worst woman to have as a partner.

She would never be able to handle the four of us.

Any woman in Kirill’s life will come to quickly realize we’re a package deal.

His life is not just his own and part of that is because of the power he wields.

He’s insulated.

Protected.

Surrounded.

Entwined.

With Baker, Huck, and me.

With our lives.

We’ve never shared a woman before and I’m not sure one exists who could manage the four of us.

But I know it’s the only future that makes sense for us.

Considering how some of the men around us, including Baker’s brother, have found their forever with more than one man worshiping their woman at the center of them, there may just be hope for us.

If a woman ever crosses our path who can deal with being on the arm of Kirill Volkov for the world to see while being worshiped by the four of us, we’ll know.

At least, I hope we will.

She’ll have to have a spine of steel and the softness to give us peace.

Betty is not that woman.

She’s weak even though she pretends to be strong.

The only thing she has going for her is her practiced smile and the way she thinks she can become whatever is needed.

It’s all fake though, and it doesn’t take long to see past the veneer.

“Oh,” Betty’s voice is an octave higher than normal and grates on my nerves, “the reports are in the folder, but I know how much you like to look at it on your computer. Let me just…,” her words trial off as she pushes herself further in Kirill’s personal space to lean over him and rests her hand on the computer mouse on his desk.

I snort out a laugh which I quickly try to cover with a cough.

Kirill hears it anyway and his dark, cold eyes narrow on me.

It’s a look which has intimidated many, but not me.

Huck strides into Kirill’s office without knocking and freezes at the sight of Betty’s tits almost pressed against Kirill’s chin.

The way she’s contorted herself for maximum effect would probably be sexy if it weren’t so damn obvious how hard she’s trying right now.

The look Huck shoots me speaks volumes.

All I can do is shrug because I don’t know how Betty hasn’t gotten the memo already.

None of us will be taking her up on what she’s offering.

Not only would it muddy the waters at work, which is not ideal, but there’s no chase when it comes to Betty.

And we’re predators.

Betty looks up, her green eyes flashing as her cheeks pink slightly.

I have to cover my mouth to hide my smirk.

It’s no secret she’s been laying it on thick with Huck lately after getting no reaction from me when I was in her sights.

Baker is next on the rotation, I’m sure.

“Hello, Mr. Cardenas,” Betty’s voice is sweet to the point that I have to fight myself from wincing at the sound.

“Can I get you some coffee?”

Kirill clears his throat and Betty’s eyes snap to him.

The uncertainty written all over her face is almost comical.

“I’m perfectly capable of finding the report,” his words are clipped.

I can feel my brother’s irritation from across the room.

I’m not the only one.

Betty’s face pales slightly as she pastes a fake smile on her face.

She looks down and then tries to peer at Kirill from underneath her lashes, trying to appear innocent.

It doesn’t work.

To his credit, Kirill’s face is unreadable even as a fire burns in his eyes.

Can’t she feel the danger coming off him?

Most people are smart enough to recognize it and give a wide berth.

But there are women, like Betty, who are like moths to the flame.

I’m not sure they would be able to stay away even if they tried.

They want to be burned.

What they don’t realize is they aren’t the kind of women who would rise from the ashes, they would simply be swept away with the breeze.

This is why Kirill was always destined to be in charge, to be the leader.

I’m more than happy to stand at his side, to be his hand when needed and to be the distraction he needs when things get too heavy.

Some would resent him in my shoes, but I never have.

Kirill thrives in the spotlight and I’m more than happy to keep it trained on him.

I work better in the shadows.

Betty clears her throat as awkwardness blankets the room.

Her eyes sweep over toward me and then to Huck, but neither of us give her the reprieve she’s hoping for.

Never going to happen.

“If you don’t need anything else,” her words hang in the air, the question left unanswered and her expectations falling like dead leaves around her.

“I think you’ve neglected your desk for long enough,” Kirill’s words are final.

This time it’s Huck who tries to hide a chuckle with a cough.

It doesn’t work.

Betty’s cheeks turn pink as she scurries from the office like she’s finally recognized how the hellhounds are nipping at her heels.

Tension eases as the door closes behind her, but the sound of her heels clicking on the floor is a faint echo of her presence.

Huck runs a hand down his face as Kirill blows an aggravated breath through his nose.

Before anyone can say anything, Baker Dalton strolls into Kirill’s office with a confused look on his face.

He glances back toward the door and then looks at each of us.

While pointing over his shoulder, his question comes out slightly confused, “Why was Betty practically sprinting down the hallway looking like a freshly bleached sheet?”

Huck’s jaw clenches and his nostrils flare with how hard he’s trying not to laugh.

My control shatters and I bark out a laugh.

The look Kirill gives me is filled with cold fury.

I shake my head at him, but he already knows he doesn’t scare me.

What’s the worst he could do to me?

Sure, I know he wouldn’t think twice about beating my ass, but at the same time I wouldn’t take it without giving it back.

We’re brothers, that is how it is between us.

“Betty needed a little reminder of where she should be and the scope of her responsibilities,” Kirill’s voice is flat with an edge of steel.

The confusion on Baker’s face vanishes with understanding for a moment before it’s back in full force.

He shoots a look at Huck before pointing toward him.

“I thought it was your dick she was currently trying to jump on.”

Huck smirks and even Kirill’s stoic mask slips and the corners of his mouth tips up.

Huck holds his hands up in surrender before sauntering toward one of the chairs in the office and sitting.

“It has been,” Huck confirms with a roll of his eyes and a huff of annoyance.

“But we all know it’s the big boss man she wants to ride the most. She thinks she’s invaluable here. Irreplaceable.”

I snort out a laugh because we all know everyone is replaceable.

Even us.

It’s how we gained power in this city in the first place.

The only surefire way to stay on top is to be the most ruthless and the most willing to shed blood.

It also helps to have friends in the right places.

And to not be total dicks.

If Kirill had set out to take over all of Morozov’s businesses, I don’t think we would have stayed in power even this long.

But since we came here with the goal of shutting down Anatoly’s trafficking and drug businesses, it gave us some sway and some trust with those who wanted the same.

That is how we now have the Devil’s Saints Motorcycle Club on our side.

And those are definitely men you want fighting with you instead of against you.

They understand the city in the same way they understand violence.

Their goals are the same as ours and while spilling blood for the right reasons won’t make any of us lose sleep, we share a moral compass.

Women and children are sacred.

They shall not be harmed by the ego of men who can’t appreciate that protecting someone is a sign of strength instead of weakness.

Kirill waves his hand dismissively.

“She’s unimportant and needs to focus on her job.” We all nod, knowing the truth in his words.

He leans forward on his desk, his forearms bracing against the surface.

He directs his question toward Baker, “Has Hendrix and his team checked in with any new information?”

Baker’s face clears completely, all amusement now gone as he shifts into work mode.

He shakes his head curtly.

“I’ve gotten an update, but there’s nothing new to report. They’re running down any leads on Mikhail through his dealers. The problem is that he seems to still be underground and is using others as a go between.”

When Kirill growls in frustration, I’m barely able to swallow down the same sound.

I just want to be done with Mikhail and everything Morozov.

Taking down his father wasn’t enough.

Mikhail was raised in the image of his father.

When we took out Anatoly, the plan was to take out the entire family, to unburden the city completely of their darkness.

But Mikhail lived.

It’s just a matter of time before he stops hiding in the shadows and makes a move against Kirill.

We’ve been chasing his rats while he hides.

Kirill is at the end of his rope.

He’s not the only one.

“Hendrix will update us,” Baker adds even though it isn’t necessary.

Hendrix, Dominic, and Wolfe—who is also Baker’s older brother—are mercenaries working for us at the moment.

They are former military who have seen firsthand the terror Morozov thrives on.

They’ve made a name for themselves by taking down trafficking rings and we aren’t the only ones who use them for their skills.

It helps that we grew up with Wolfe.

He took a different path than we did, along with Baker, but it didn’t cause a rift between us.

I respect the man.

He felt a calling to fight for our country.

If things had been different, if we weren’t raised by first generation immigrants, I might not have felt like I was constantly straddling two countries.

Fleeing because enemies were after Dad and his power made the man both resentful and grateful for his new home country.

Kirill and I still find our souls divided.

Dad raised us to build an empire, the same kind he couldn’t keep a hold of and had to run from.

We knew our destiny and it never held room for wearing a military uniform.

At least Wolfe and his team’s skills come in handy.

I lean forward, my elbows resting on my knees and crack a smile.

“I think you need to blow off some steam,” I direct my observation toward my brother.

Kirill narrows his eyes at me.

Even though it seems like he’s against my suggestion, I can see his mind turning over my words.

With a huff, he shakes his head and leans back in his chair.

“And what do you suggest? Going to Second Circle,” he sneers the name of the brothel our tentative Italian mob connection, Angelo Amato, owns.

I scoff and shake my head.

“I’m certainly not suggesting going to Amato’s brothel,” my tone is filled with condemnation.

Baker smirks as he lounges back in the spot on one of Kirill’s couches which he’s claimed as his own.

“Although getting some action wouldn’t hurt you. You’re clearly stressed out,” he points out the obvious but the glint in his eyes says he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Of course I’m fucking stressed out,” Kirill snarls.

“I have Mikhail hiding in the shadows and trying anything and everything to disrupt my business.”

“He hasn’t been very successful,” Huck points out.

“No,” Kirill sighs, “but he has managed to piss me the fuck off.” I can’t help but smirk considering it doesn’t take much to piss my brother off.

He waves his hand dismissively like he knows exactly what I’m thinking; he probably does.

“Anyway, I’m not paying for a night with a woman. I don’t need to pay for a willing woman, why would I start now?”

“True,” I agree.

“How about going to Club Sin? You might find a woman for the night.”

Kirill tilts his head to the side as he considers me.

“Are you asking for me or is this really for you?”

I bark out a laugh because he’s not entirely wrong.

It’s been a while since I’ve had the time or the inclination to find a woman to spend the night with.

While I have no doubt when the right woman comes along, we’ll share her; she hasn’t made her presence known.

Maybe she never will.

“Would it be so bad? A night out? Seeking a little softness in the midst of all the bullshit we’ve been dealing with?” Kirill arches an eyebrow at my questions.

I go in for the kill and add, “Isn’t there some old adage about all work and no play?”

One side of my brother’s mouth tips up in a devilish smirk.

“You’re not wrong, brother,” he agrees.

But I can read the man.

I know what his answer will be.

“But, no,” his words hold a finality.

“As of right now, I can’t trust anyone, especially a woman, put in our path. There is too much going on in the background. Mikhail will use any means to get to us.”

Baker’s body deflates as he pouts and grumbles, “Fuck, now I can’t even get my dick wet.”

Kirill cracks a smile, a genuine one, while shaking his head at our lifetime friend.

Huck barks out a laugh as Baker continues to pout.

“As soon as we deal with Mikhail and his little cockroaches, you’ll be free to find a nice warm hole to enjoy.”

Baker flips Huck off which only causes the man to grin wickedly, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“When I get my hands on him, he’s going to wish he had just evaporated like fog instead of trying to take back his daddy’s legacy,” Baker’s threat is whispered with sinister intent.

Kirill, Huck, and I chuckle at the promise of violence in his words.

Now we just have to cut Mikhail off from everything he’s been trying to rebuild and then take him out.

My gut is screaming at me that something is coming.

Something big.

I don’t doubt that we’ll be the ones left standing when it matters most.

What I don’t know is how many scars we will be forced to wear in the aftermath.