5. Chapter Five
CHAPTER FIVE
M y malen'kiy angel was avoiding me on this impromptu trip . I was in a meeting with Roman, getting updated on what was happening on the streets. Apparently a new drug had hit Russia. It was in all our clubs and none of our men were pushing it, nor had they figured out who was making it.
It was dangerous having drugs like that in our territory.
According to the spy network, the new drug was called Bubbli . I thought it was a shit name, but since women and children were going missing, I was going to find out who was pushing it. Then I would kill them.
I was annoyed, as soon as I got to the car, to see Valentina sitting in the middle. She should know better. Her ass was locked into Roman, and I made it loud and clear that Isadora was mine with my greeting. A kiss to show my possession. The first of many.
I climbed in and leaned forward to whisper in Valentina’s ear. “If you want to live long enough to have that child, you will swap seats with your sister right now. ”
She nodded and swapped with Isadora immediately. As soon as her vanilla scent wafted over me, I relaxed.
“Why are you here?” My malen'kiy angel was talking out of the side of her mouth, trying to ignore looking at me.
I grinned. “It just so happens you need a bodyguard, and I have some business in the area you were traveling to, malen'kiy angel.”
Her hackles rose as she gritted her teeth and told me to stop calling her that. A war ensued when I tried to lay my hand on her body, showcasing my claim. In a moment of weakness I flashed my weapon, knowing it would calm her uppity ass down.
I didn’t relish her fear. I wasn’t like the other men in my Brotherhood. I’d been around long enough to know that women who feared a man like me would quickly betray a man like me as well.
They couldn’t be trusted, unless plied with trinkets and pretty words. My malen'kiy angel squirmed next to me, rubbing her sexy little body along mine like a little tease. She needed more meat on her bones but, other than that, she was perfection.
I needed to know more about her.
I was still waiting for my background check to come through on her as well. I would need to follow up sooner rather than later, especially with this new drug on the streets.
Not that I thought she had anything to do with the new drug. She’d been locked away in The Academy all this time. She couldn’t possibly. However, whoever she belonged to may be a part of these men who were trying to bring the Bratva down.
Roman may have legally moved flesh around, but it was with honor. No tricks. No lies. Just a different lifestyle. He would not allow the women to be abused.
Not like the ones at The Stables. I wouldn’t touch that place with a ten-foot pole. Everyone knew what that place was about. I ran my thumb in a circle on Isadora’s legs, and my eyebrows raised when she shivered in delight.
Apparently she wasn’t completely immune to my charm.
I smiled to myself.
We hopped on the highway. The driver had thrown on soothing classical music, while Isadora stared straight ahead with her arms crossed over her chest. I moved my hand a little higher on her leg, close to her pussy, as I lowered my phone.
I couldn’t think of business when I knew the denim before me was keeping me away from what was mine. The method for which I would extract information from the lead on the street could come later.
Isadora needed my attention now, judging by the swinging of her legs.
Open and closed.
Open and closed.
Open and - I slammed my hand over her mound. Hot and ready for my cock. I leaned to the side and growled in her ear.
“Never wear jeans again, malen'kiy angel, I want easy access to what belongs to me.”
“I-I don’t belong to you,” she panted, her lips parted with desire.
“You do, because I saved you from that hellhole, and I wouldn’t enjoy sending you to another.” The warning was clear.
It hit Isadora like ice, and she stopped rubbing her hot little center against my hand. I withdrew my hand and slid it back to her thigh. She could fight it all she wanted but, while she was in my care, I would fuck her everywhere.
“I don’t belong anywhere,” she whispered, as if she didn’t want me to overhear her. The pain in her voice pulled at my dead heart strings.
“You belong with me,” I promised. I shouldn’t have made one. I couldn’t predict what was going to happen in the future. The Brotherhood was making more and more enemies, especially by holding the daughters of powerful families hostage.
It would work out.
I needed to have more faith in my Pakhan. But when I worked for a literal psychopath, it was hard to have any kind of belief that he could run the organization successfully.
I shrugged off my thoughts as the town car pulled up to the boutique.
I helped the girls out of the car before the driver could. Isadora shoved my hands away as if my touch burned her, her defiance sharp and deliberate. Valentina, ever graceful, used my hands only to steady herself as she stepped out, releasing me like I was some disease she wanted no part of. I smirked, more amused than offended. I knew better than to take it personally.
Roman’s jealousy was a fire that consumed everything it touched, and if anything happened to her, anything at all, he wouldn’t hesitate to end me. Not that I feared him. It was the principle of it. He couldn’t stomach the idea of her being close to anyone but him, and she knew it. They both knew it.
“Have fun, ladies,” I drawled, my voice carrying just enough edge to mask the tension brimming beneath.
I walked them to the front door, my pace unhurried, every step a calculated show of control. Valentina breezed ahead, her heels clicking against the pavement, eager to put distance between us. Isadora lingered, her eyes darting toward me, curiosity flickering there like a dangerous spark she didn’t know how to extinguish.
I caught her gaze and held it, stopping short just as she reached for the door. The way she looked at me, half intrigued, half wary, was a challenge I couldn’t ignore. A slow, knowing smile spread across my face as I stepped into her space, crowding her without hesitation.
“Isadora,” I said, my voice low, her name rolling off my tongue like a warning. She froze, her hand still on the doorknob, her lips parting as if to speak. Before she could utter a word, I reached for her, my fingers curling firmly around her chin, tilting her face up to mine.
“You think you can keep looking at me like that, and walk away?” I murmured, my breath brushing against her lips. “I don’t think so, angel.”
Before she could protest, I kissed her; not gently, not sweet, but with enough roughness to remind her exactly who she was dealing with. My mouth claimed hers, demanding submission, my grip on her chin tightening as she gasped against me. She stiffened for a moment, her hands pressing against my chest, but I didn’t let up. I kissed her harder, pouring every ounce of frustration and possession into the clash of our lips.
When I finally pulled back, her breathing was ragged, her cheeks flushed. Her eyes burned with something between fury and desire, and it was intoxicating. I ran my thumb over her swollen lips, smirking as I leaned in close enough to feel the heat of her skin.
“Don’t forget who you belong to,” I murmured, my voice rough, a promise laced with threat. “Even if it’s just in your head.”
I straightened, stepping back as if nothing had happened, leaving her standing there, stunned and breathless. Without another word, I turned and walked away, ignoring the curious look she burned into my back.
Valentina knew not to ask questions. Her mind was already on the task at hand, which was getting Isadora a new wardrobe. I wanted my malen'kiy angel to look, and feel, her best, even if she was still on the skinny side. When she gained more weight, accentuating her curves, I’d buy her another wardrobe.
Money was not a problem.
I headed into the alley on the side of the boutique. My street snitch said that my lead would be here selling the drug. The men had found nothing but empty vials at The Academy. Headmaster Mikhail was smart enough not to leave behind evidence.
However, with the new lab opening up, The Brotherhood could figure out what was in the drug Bubbli, and how to track down the makers of it. So, my agenda today was to get a vial of that drug for analysis.
If I got more information on top of that, well that was just dessert.
I tucked my hands in my pockets as I strolled down the alley, like I didn’t have a care in the world. It was hard to make him out until I tilted my head a certain way, but there he was, sticking out like a sore thumb. Fernando Herrarra, a Venezuelan capo, well known for his ties on the drug scene, was spotted in The Brotherhood territory. I didn’t know why he was in Russia, but his stay wouldn’t be for long, if I had anything to do with it.
Sure enough, there he stood, like he hadn’t a care in the world, smoking a cigar.
“ ?Qué más, pana? What are you looking to score tonight?” He nodded his head to me, not recognizing that I wasn’t here for business.
At least not that kind.
“Heard you had Bubbli .” I raised my voice to seem more unassuming.
Guys didn’t take other men who had higher pitched voices seriously. Don’t ask me why, I don’t make the rules.
“Yeah, but you’ll have to get your needle elsewhere, I’m all out for the night.” He looked at me suspiciously, but ultimately after a beat of silence, he moved a black bag strapped onto his back in front of him.
“Cash only.” He pulled the iridescent blue vial out of his bag.
I grunted in response.
I reached into my wallet and pulled out a wad of bills. As I went to hand it to him, he handed me the vial, and we swapped. To someone looking out, it looked like a regular handshake. But it was a smooth handoff.
“Nice doing business with you,” Fernando smirked.
I grunted and slipped the vial into my inside jacket pocket. I turned like I was going to leave, then spun back around, snapping my fingers.
“I forgot one more thing,” I said gleefully, reaching to my side.
Fernando was too distracted, shoving the money into his backpack, to register what was happening. “Whu?”
Before he could react, I shot him in the kneecap. He fell to the alley ground with a scream, money flying out of the pouch he was trying to stuff it in.
“ Hijo 'e puta,” he cried out, as he fell to the ground clutching his bleeding limb.
I squatted, ignoring his sniveling. “What business would a Venezuelan capo in Russia do?”
Fernando smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
I slammed my gun into his face. “I won’t ask again.”
Blood stained his teeth as he laughed. “Oh, they are going to come for you, and when they do, you won’t see them coming.”
“Who?” I seethed. I tried to control myself, but he was really pissing me off. As a coward, he should’ve folded and given me all the information I wanted. But this guy knew more than he was saying, and was planning on taking the information to his grave.
I took out my knife and stabbed him in the leg I shot, shoving the bullet deeper into the wound. He screamed into the sky, but no one would come to save him. My runners saw me walk this way, and would keep civilians away from the area until it was cleaned up.
“I-I’d tell you, but you’re going to kill me anyway.” He spit up blood and chuckled.
Fucking dick .
“I won’t kill you,” I lied.
“And somehow I don’t believe you,” he slowly responded.
Time was running out, as he bled all over the place. I tried one more time. “Just tell me what the fuck you are doing with the flesh,” I growled.
“They make the best currency, especially the young ones.” He flashed his bloody teeth again and, disgusted, I stood up, towering over him.
I held my gun up, hoping not to miss. I aimed for his forehead while he lay like a bleeding angel on his back. But he was no angel. He was a devil, and I was eradicating him from this world.
I fired.
Missed and hit his ear.
Blood spurted out as he shrieked and gripped his bleeding appendage, yelling Spanish expletives at me. I ignored all of that, and watched as he writhed all around on the ground. I felt numb. I hadn’t gotten enough information from him, but I got the drug.
That had to account for something.
I pulled the trigger again and my aim was true.
He stopped moving, and I sent off a text to Makari. He was the Brotherhood’s bookkeeper, and paid the cleaners to take care of our messes. When I needed something, I just told him who I needed, and it was taken care of.
Quietly. Just like Makari.
Me: I need a cleanup on the south quarter. It’s level four.
Makari: You couldn’t keep your DNA out of the crime scene this time?
Me: Shit happens.
Makari: Less than twenty minutes out.
Me: Thanks, fucker.
Makari:
Just like Makari said, in less than twenty minutes, a white industrial van blocked the alleyway. The Brotherhood cleaners stepped out in their matching white overalls covering their suits.
I always wondered why they didn’t wear black. It was easier to cover up blood. But maybe they didn’t want to cover up. They headed around me and I nodded at the guy in charge, which was usually the one with the clipboard and headset.
I headed back into the boutique, and waved to the ladies working the counter. They pointed back to where the dressing rooms were, to tell me that was where my malen'kiy angel was trying on clothes.
Good. That gave me a chance to head to the bathroom.
I went into the family bathroom and looked in the mirror. There wasn’t any blood on my face, but there was a small splatter in my hair.
“I’m too old for this shit,” I said out loud.
I held my head into the sink and scrubbed as best as I could. It may not get all the blood out, but it would darken my strands so it was less noticeable. I wondered what my woman would look like with her white patch of hair stained red with blood.
Mine.
Hers.
It didn’t matter. These wild thoughts were out of control. I didn’t know what to do with them. The same bug that had ailed all the Petrov men had attacked me. I thought it was a curse, and there wouldn’t be a cure until her death.
That’s what they don’t want to tell me.
In order to stop an obsession, it must be smothered and then killed. Of course, if I went along with tradition, my child would have the right. But the longer I spent around my malen'kiy angel, the less I wanted to kill her.
The more I wanted to force more of her submission. Maybe I wouldn’t give her back to the people who sent her to The Academy to begin with. I finished my hair, and dried it a tad with a paper towel.
My phone went off. Pavel was texting me. Psycho hacker.
Pavel: Hey, I’ve got that information you asked for on a woman.
Me: A girl, yeah.
Pavel: She’s nineteen, so wouldn’t that be considered a woman?
Me: Barely.
Pavel: Whatever, check your email. I’ve got a full dossier on her.
I said nothing back. I wanted to know as much information as I could about my malen'kiy angel, even if she couldn’t remember it herself. Once she told me her story, I could confirm the information Pavel dug up. But for now, the dossier would have to do.
I would check the full dossier later. For now, I needed her name. Her full one, so I could start preparing to steal my little birdie away from whoever thought they could claim her .
Isadora Paèz, the sole bastard heir to the Venezuelan Cartel. Her mother was a black prostitute, and her father was one of the largest jefes in the southern hemisphere. I wasn’t sure who her fiancé was, but I stopped reading and put my phone down.
She didn’t know any of this information, her mind an almost blank slate from her past. I wasn’t sure what to do with moy ahren ; my angel. My heart raced after taking in this information about her. Something shifted inside of me. Something I couldn’t name.
This unfamiliar sensation was overpowering, and I knew I couldn’t rid myself of it. My malen'kiy angel wasn’t going anywhere. Not yet. If I had any say in it, never. I pitied the fool who would try to stand in my way.