Chapter 2
Volodya
Ishove the blade into the man’s chest one last time, feeling the satisfying give of flesh and muscle, the crack of ribs, and finally the wheezy exhale as his lungs empty and his eyes turn dull and lifeless. Sliding my knife out, I let go, letting him fall to the ground.
“I’m really starting to get annoyed with this shit,” I mutter, kicking the dead body at my feet so it’s no longer in my way.
“I see that,” Valeri says, fighting a laugh.
My younger brother is someone who always sees the bright side of things. Nothing much fazes him. There’s always a smile playing at his lips and amusement in his green eyes, even when he’s killing someone. It’s annoying as fuck.
“Jason was on campus today. Everyone he talked to said Scott’s the guy to go to if you want pills, but no one seems to know who’s supplying him with his drugs.
He’s taking our business and ignoring our warnings.
” Vasily grimaces and looks as angry as I am.
Our older brother is a lot more like me in the temper department.
He’s a little more rainbows and unicorns since marrying Nina and the birth of their son, Dmitri, but the old Vasily still shines through from time to time, and now is one of those moments.
He eyes the man I just stabbed to death while I wipe my blade clean and put it back in its sheath.
I’ve always preferred knives over guns. Call me old-fashioned, but there’s just something so impersonal about a bullet.
I like to be up close when I end someone’s life.
I’m willing to admit that I take more pleasure in it than I should, but it is what it is, and I’ve learned to accept this part of myself.
Isn’t that what all the self-help people spout?
This is just me embracing myself, imperfections and all.
Valeri sees me fighting a grin at my own bullshit thoughts and lifts a dark brow at me.
“Sometimes I think you might be truly insane, Volodya,” he muses.
I shrug and give him a smile, proving that he’s not the only Medvedev brother who can look on the sunny side of life. “Maybe I am, brother, maybe I am.”
“He needs a woman to soften his edges,” Vasily says.
Valeri laughs. “How do you know he won’t kill her?”
“Have I ever killed a woman?” I ask, jumping to my own defense.
Valeri looks at me like I really have lost my mind. “Many fucking times.”
“I mean innocent women, not ones that crossed us and needed to be taken out.”
“Not that I know of,” Valeri says and leaves it at that.
“Fucker,” I mutter, making him laugh. He knows damn good and well I’ve never killed an innocent person.
If you feel the sting of my knife, then you’ve done something to deserve it, the fucker at my feet would attest to that if he could.
When I’d held my knife to his neck, he’d known exactly why I was doing it.
He’d been warned to stop selling shit for Scott St. James, and he’d ignored the warning.
This line of work doesn’t allow for handholding and kid gloves.
You fuck up, you get killed. It’s as simple as that.
“Like I said,” Vasily continues, getting us back on track, “Scott and his little crew need to be stopped. We’re not losing a ton of money, because as big as Scott thinks his dick is, it’s actually quite small and his operation is laughable, but it’s a nuisance all the same.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he thinks he’s ripping us a new one,” Valeri says with a laugh.
“But really it’s just an annoying tickle in my ass,” I say, finishing his thought, unable to resist joining in his laughter.
Vasily shakes his head, but I can see the look on his face and know he wants to join in. “I’m going home to my family.” He runs a tattooed hand through his hair. “I think it’s time to start looking into his sister. That usually gets the point across.”
I nod in agreement. Threatening a loved one is like lighting a fire under someone’s ass.
We know where Scott lives but have avoided taking him out.
We’ve got eyes on him in the hopes of finding out who the man is that’s keeping him stocked with pills.
Scott’s of use to us if he can lead us to someone bigger.
Then if it’s worth pursuing, we strike a deal with the bigger fish and cut Scott out of the picture. Problem solved.
Valeri elbows me as a grin splits his face, showing off that dimple in his cheek that the girls go crazy for. “Come with me to the club.”
I groan and smack Vasily on the back as he turns to leave. “Let me know what you decide on.”
“Will do,” he says before getting into his Porsche and driving off while Valeri sends out a text for some of the guys to come and dispose of the body I left in the middle of the alley.
“Come on,” Valeri says, putting his phone away. “You need to let off steam. We own nightclubs and strip clubs, brother, take your fucking pick, but you need a drink and a piece of ass.”
He’s not wrong, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to admit that. “Nightclub,” I say, giving in but only because I really need a fucking drink.
Valeri laughs and gets into my red 1969 Camaro.
I’d fallen in love with the old muscle car as soon as I’d seen it and hadn’t thought twice about paying the ridiculous price.
It was love at first sight. Valeri’s already texting to spread the word in case anyone wants to join us before I’ve even gotten back onto the main road.
It’s Friday night, so the city is busy and traffic is an absolute bitch, making me wish for a second that I’d taken my motorcycle instead so I could weave around these assholes.
It’s nothing like the traffic in Moscow, though.
Vasily was the first one to come over here and set up the Bratva in America, and I joined him close to a year ago.
He controls the northern half, I control the southern half, and Valeri now controls the middle.
His portion is smaller, but that’s your lot in life when you’re the youngest. He doesn’t seem to mind.
In fact, he takes great pride in the fact that his part of the city may be smaller, but it has the most bars and clubs.
I pull up in front of Inferno for no other reason than that it’s one of the clubs we own and it was the closest. Valeri’s grin lets me know I’ve chosen well. The building is painted black, and there’s a long line of scantily clad women waiting to be let in.
“Ilya and Nikolai will be here soon,” Valeri informs me as we get out and walk towards the bouncer on duty.
When a tall brunette in line catches his eye, he curls his finger at her, beckoning her over.
She smiles and immediately forgets all about her friends, leaving them behind to come and stand by my brother.
He puts an arm around her while she giggles and I try like hell to not roll my eyes.
“Hey, Steve,” I say, giving a nod to the bouncer as he steps aside to let us through.
“Evening, Mr. Medvedev.” Steve is not a small man, but he keeps his eyes down when he speaks to me, and I can sense how scared he is of us.
It’s for the best, I suppose. I walk past him and into the dark club.
The music is so loud I can feel the base line in my fucking feet, traveling up my legs.
I head straight for the bar and order a vodka.
When I look back, Valeri is grabbing the woman’s ass and leading her to the dance floor.
I’m guessing I won’t see him again for a while.
I take the glass the bartender sets in front of me and immediately down it before motioning for him to fill it again.
When I’m on my third, I grab the glass, leaving him a nice tip since I drink for free, and head up to the second floor balcony, nodding at the young woman standing outside the VIP area.
She gives me a big grin, and when I don’t return it, she steps aside, allowing me entry into the quieter area of the club.
I run my eyes over the dark alcove. Most of the tables and booths are taken tonight, but I spot a table in the corner and make my way towards it, hoping to remain unnoticed.
No such luck. I’ve just sat down when two blondes walk over on unsteady long legs.
“Hey,” they both say, giving me big smiles and fuck-me eyes.
I briefly consider it. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve gotten laid, but even after killing that guy, an event that would usually have me searching out pussy with a quickness, I’m just not feeling it tonight.
Thirty-one is way too young to be in a sex slump, and I’m embarrassed to say that I seriously think about asking them if they’d consider rubbing the tension out of my shoulders instead of the wild threesome they clearly have in mind.
Before I have to be the jackass and tell them to get lost, Ilya and Nikolai come walking over. They sit down at the table with drinks in hand and smile at the women.
“You can fuck them,” I tell the blondes, nodding at a grinning Ilya and Nikolai while making it very clear it won’t be my cock they’ll be taking a ride on later.
“You are crazy,” Ilya says in Russian, already patting his lap in invitation. One of the women quickly takes him up on the offer and parks her nonexistent ass on his thigh while the other does the same to Nikolai.
Both men have been with our Bratva for years, and Nikolai is responsible for any tattoos we want done.
It’s not surprising that he’s covered in them, even more so than the rest of us.
He’s a walking advertisement, showing off his skill with the intricate drawings that cover his body.
He did most of mine, including the large bear that covers my chest, the same one that Vasily and Valeri have.