Sold to the Bratva (The Volkov Bratva #1)

1. Adrik

ADRIK

S topping at our club on the Strip was supposed to be a break. A chance to stop dwelling on the inevitable changes that would be coming in the family. Changes that I’d always counted on having to face.

Just not this soon.

“I just can’t believe this is happening,” my younger brother, Viktor, said as he set his glass down.

While we were here to stall and kill the time until we’d need to return to the Volkov estate for the meeting with our father’s doctor, drinks seemed like a poor choice. Viktor’s was only half gone. Nikolai had finished his instantly.

Mine sat untouched, the clear liquid perfectly still in the glass.

I kept my fingers wrapped around it. Not because I debated taking it but because I needed something to hold on to.

Something to grip because my grip on reality—and sanity—was fleeting.

Viktor was right. It did seem unbelievable that Dmitri Volkov, the fearless and powerful Pakhan of the Volkov Bratva, was near death.

Or is he?

I resisted the instinct to cringe at the thought. It was the very matter we’d discuss with the doctor, the expert who’d be able to predict how long my father would remain with us.

It doesn’t matter, though, does it?

If he hangs on for another week or another year, he’s not going to resume his responsibility.

I would. With his decline, I would be expected to fill his shoes. Per the laws of strictly following our bloodline, as the eldest son, I alone would be the next leader.

“He was perfectly fine,” Lev, my younger cousin, said.

His father, my uncle Gregori, died a long time ago and my father had always been the paternal figure Lev looked up to.

He was the boss of the family, but for myself and my three brothers, plus my two cousins, he was the father we’d obey and respect.

He was the leader we’d serve and protect.

None of us could do a damn thing to protect him now. Not when the “enemy” was the cancer he’d hidden from us for too long.

“He seemed perfectly fine,” I corrected.

That was perhaps the worst part of this news.

He’d masked his weakness. He’d omitted the truth that he had tumors spreading through his body.

For over two years, he hadn’t told a soul about his prognosis.

But that wasn’t too hard to believe. My father was a tough and secretive soul.

“It happened so quickly, though,” Lev replied, casting his forlorn gaze down to the drink situated in front of him on the black marble tabletop.

Red and orange streaks reflected on the surface, mirroring all the neon lights that ran on a predetermined sequence of flashes and fades.

“One day he was fine, the usual figure of health, and then yesterday…”

“And then yesterday, he passed out,” I finished for him.

Blunt and cutting to the chase was simply my style, even with the topic of my father’s failing health.

Yesterday, he keeled over and gave us all the singularly scariest experience we’d ever encountered.

Facing off with Cartel thugs, other Bratva rivals, and even the law had hardened us.

Born and raised in the Bratva, we were used to dark threats and sobering fear.

All of us had at least once faced a gun aimed at our heads or a knife positioned close to our necks.

The sight of our Pakhan suddenly dropping to the floor would linger as the most terrifying experience yet.

“We came here for a distraction,” Nikolai said, casting our cousin a glare.

“And here we are talking about it all over again. We’ll be bogged down with nothing but the details as soon as we head to the estate.

” He lifted his glass and finished in with a smooth toss.

Once he swallowed, he shrugged one shoulder.

“The way I see it, Father’s health will dominate every minute after we talk to this doctor. ”

Lev furrowed his brow, staring at him sternly. “How can you even talk like that?”

I shared a glance with Alexei. He was a year older, Lev’s older and only brother. Presumably, Alexei and I should’ve been close, since we were the oldest, but we never saw eye-to-eye on the pettiest things. It seemed that we were on the same page about this, though.

So far, Lev was the slowest to accept the news that my father had fallen unconscious. Lev had always been close with him, and this would hit him the hardest.

But I didn’t have time for allaying his emotions or worrying about how much he’d struggle with losing our Pakhan. All six of us would have to adjust. Grief was imminent.

Only I would need to change my entire identity, though.

Instead of being the heir apparent, the Mafia prince and my father’s right-hand man, I’d take the throne.

I wouldn’t be the boss in training. By birthright, I would be the next Volkov Pakhan.

Assuming leadership would be the challenge of a lifetime, and I hoped I’d be able to count on my brothers and Alexei to help Lev acclimate to the loss.

“Anything I can help you with?” a waitress asked as she sidled up to our table.

Sitting in the VIP area—obviously, since this was one of our establishments—meant that our every need would be catered to.

The sugary tone of her voice hinted that she wasn’t offering to get another round for us.

I hadn’t taken a sip of the one held steady in my hand yet.

And while I was here to stall before meeting with my father’s doctor, she wasn’t the kind of distraction I needed.

Or wanted.

So, when she took my stony silence as a misplaced and delusional invitation to stroke her fingers up my sleeve and lean over so her cleavage could threaten to spill out of her low-cut shirt, I wanted to shove her away. Clear across the room.

Not fucking now.

If I couldn’t get out of my head enough to relax and have a drink, the last thing I’d consider was losing myself in a nameless pussy.

Not for a long time.

Tension coiled inside me, slithering through my veins and charging my heart. This pressure would only stay constant with whatever prognosis the doctor had for us tonight. I would be taking over, if not now, very soon.

Fucking around and relying on any vice wouldn’t be in the cards for me.

Turning to glower at her, I let my scowl be the answer she should heed.

Her expression fell instantly, morphing from sultry seduction to oh, fuck regret.

She backed up, knocking into Nikolai. He didn’t snarl at her. With a slow smile of appreciation, he lifted his hand as if to beckon her to sit on his lap.

“Get lost,” I ordered.

She didn’t wait. At this moment, I wasn’t the boss, but that didn’t mean that I lacked weight or power. Each of us who reported directly to my father—my brothers and two cousins—were feared throughout the city in our own rights.

Cringing and retreating faster, she nodded and scurried away.

“Hell. If you didn’t want to hit that, I would have.” Nikolai watched her go.

Lev huffed, incredulous. “How can you think about?—”

“He always thinks about chasing an easy piece of ass,” Alexei drawled, glancing at me.

“Life’s short, man.” Nikolai shrugged. Then, perhaps belatedly realizing how crude those specific words were as we awaited the news about how short our father’s life would be, he winced. “Fuck. You’re all depressing me.”

I didn’t have time for that, either. If we didn’t get out of here now, we’d be late to meet with the doctor.

To get the verdict.

I winced at my shitty attitude and stood. “Come on. Let’s go and see what the doctor has to say.”

We already knew what he’d explain to us. Simply put, my father was dying. It was just a matter of when, or if, he’d regain any of his ability to act as a leader at all.

Alexei got into a car with me while Lev, Viktor, and Nikolai took another. As I sank into the leather cushion, I rubbed my brow and let out a heavy breath.

“You’re acting like you’re already in charge.”

Used to bickering with him more than my brothers, I swiveled my head to narrow my eyes at him.

“Breathing all dramatic like that…”

I stared him down.

He rolled his eyes and turned to look out the side window. “Fuck. I don’t know what else to say.”

“Is that some twisted admission that you’re stressed as fuck, too?”

“Of course.” He grimaced as he adjusted the knot of his tie. “Losing Uncle Dmitri isn’t something any of us counted on dealing with this soon.”

You can say that again. My father had done us all a damn disservice, hiding the fact that he’d had cancer and didn’t want the treatments for it all this time.

“And it’ll be a rough transition.”

“For you .”

He turned to scowl at me now, giving up his moody stare on the scenery that blurred by. “It’ll be rough for all of us. For the family. With him weak like this and not in power, who knows how many other fuckers are going to prey on us.”

I shook my head, firm in that resolve at least. Taking the throne wasn’t what I anticipated doing now, but there had never been any doubt at all that as the eldest son of the current Pakhan, I’d be the one to take over. “Anyone who thinks they can prey on us is asking for a death sentence.”

“I’m just saying?—”

“I know what you’re fucking saying. With the loss of a leader, a new one must come in.

There’s no question about that, though. I’m next.

It's as simple as that.” Even if my uncle, Alexei’s father, had lived after assassinating our grandparents, he wouldn’t have been able to assume the role as much as a lowly driver.

It wasn’t fair that Uncle Gregori had gotten off so easily—dying in the same fight that he’d started to usurp power.

We arrived several moments later to the sprawling mansion my father called home. While we all had our own places, here on the property of this estate and nearby, this residence was the largest and most prominent display of our wealth and success.