Taken

Chapter Five

Nikolai

T he Bratva is a world which has been built on blood, loyalty, and ruthless violence. It is not a world for the weak, or the soft-hearted.

The Bratva is a world where power is the only currency that matters, where loyalty to the family—my family—is paramount, and where enemies are disposed of swiftly, with absolutely zero hesitation.

The Bratva is a world where nothing stands in the way of ambition.

And make no mistake, the Bratva doesn’t play by the rules of the outside world.

In our world, it’s kill or be killed, betray or be betrayed.

I was born into this world, born into a legacy that has been carved from the darkest depths of human nature.

As the eldest sons of the Pakhan, the leader of this ruthless empire, my brother and I have been trained from birth to take over together once our father steps down.

There has never been a question of if, only when.

My brother, Mikhail, and I, were born to be rulers. And we have never questioned our fate.

We’ve trained together, fought together, bled together. We’ve survived the very worst of the worst together, and we’ve emerged stronger, smarter, and more dangerous.

Together, we’re the perfect pair; two halves of the same whole, two minds that think alike, two bodies that move in sync. There is nobody I trust more than him, and there never will be.

Mikhail and I have always known what is expected of us.

To become Pakhans.

To rule this empire.

To take control of the Bratva.

To maintain its power.

It’s all we’ve ever known.

It’s all we’ve ever wanted.

Until her.

Chiara.

The girl who’s thrown everything we’ve ever known into chaos.

Neither one of us expected it. Neither one of us saw her coming.

How could we?

She wasn't part of our world.

But the moment I saw her, I knew. I knew that something inside me had broken, had become irreparably shattered.

I’ve never been one to feel much, or to show emotion.

I saw how the sudden death of my mother affected my father, and how it made him falter, even though they weren’t the perfect couple. He sunk into the chaos, and it took years before he was able to rule with an iron fist once more, remaining detached as he stayed above it all.

But with her…it’s different.

With her, I feel something I’ve never felt before.

It terrifies me.

And I know that Mikhail feels it too.

I notice the way his eyes follow her, the way he watches her when she’s not looking, the way his breathing changes when she looks at us. He doesn’t say anything, but I can see it in him, the way he’s always on edge whenever she’s around.

My brother and I have been with numerous women together, but Chiara is nothing like those women. They were all distractions, used for moments of pleasure that meant nothing when the morning sun rose, but Chiara…she’s different.

So innocent. So untouchable.

She’s someone that calls to us both.

Someone we shouldn’t want.

Someone we can’t stop ourselves from craving.

She’s someone who’ll be forced to stay.

Mikhail and I have been careful, calculated with each of our actions.

We’ve waited. We’ve watched. We’ve studied.

We’ve seen her laugh. We’ve seen her frown. We’ve seen her move.

We never meant to take action so soon, never wanted to show ourselves to her like this, but we had no choice.

When we followed her that night, finding her in that damn club, grinding up on men, offering them a piece of her that belonged to us, we knew it had to be done.

Something inside us both just snapped, and that night, we made our move.

We didn’t even care.

I still remember how frightened she looked when we took her.

The shock. The fear. The confusion.

Finally being able to be so close to her…finally being able to kneel for her…finally being able to take her…

My cock ached, and my mouth watered.

Chiara had no idea who we were.

Chiara had no idea how long we had been waiting for her.

It didn’t matter though.

All that matters is that she’s ours now.

And even though she may not know it yet, she soon will. She’ll come to understand who we are, and what we can offer her. When that finally happens, she’ll have no choice but to accept it.

Chiara will be ours.

The Bratva never loses, and neither do we.

But it’s not going to be easy.

Chiara has already begun to question everything.

She has already seen more than we thought she would, and she is smarter than what she presents herself to be.

I can already see her struggling, trying to pull away so she can distance herself from what is unfolding between us—between myself, her, and my brother too.

She’s afraid, and it’s only normal that she is.

Chiara doesn’t understand why we’ve done this.

Why we’ve taken her, why we’ll be keeping her, and why we’re treating her like this.

But with time, she will understand. She has to.

And as soon as she does, everything will fall into place.

My brother is just as obsessed with Chiara as I am. We didn’t think we would move so quickly, but what’s done is done. And although we’ve never been in a situation like this before, I know we’ll manage.

Chiara is ours now, and we’ll do everything it takes to make her see that.

Even if it means breaking everything we’ve ever known.

I turn to face Mikhail.

My chest is tight, and my jaw is clenched so hard it aches.

“Bratva.” I spit out in a way I never once have before. “How the fuck does she know?!”

My mind goes into overdrive, my blood hot in my veins.

How the fuck does Chiara know about us; know about the Russians, and the Italians too?

As far as we’re aware, she’s only another London girl.

She’s lived in the city since birth, and has attended all her schools, and even her university, in the same city.

She’s never even left her goddamn city.

She comes from a small family too; a father, and an older brother. There’s no mother in the picture. She has no extended family either.

So where the fuck did that come from?

My hands are shaking, but I force them to stay still as I curl my fingers into fists to steady myself.

She fainted not too long after she uttered that word, and after checking her over, Mikhail and I thought it would be best to let her rest.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to know.

As I inhale deeply, I force fresh air into my lungs, forcing the anger back down, desperate not to lose control like this.

“Who the fuck have we taken, Mikhail?”

The words are sharp, low, and dangerous as they leave my lips.

There’s a fire starting deep in my gut, but there’s also something else.

A tightening in my chest that I can’t shake. A deep throb at the back of my head.

Chiara shouldn’t know. Chiara shouldn’t be part of this world.

Yet somehow, she is.

Mikhail takes some time to respond. I don’t blame him for it, not when my own mind is spinning too.

Chiara is not like the others. There’s something about her, something that makes my gut twist.

I take another breath in.

And for the first time, I wonder who she really is. I wonder which tales of the past I might have opened up by bringing her here. If she knows about both—about the Russians as well as the Italians—I can only wonder who she may be.

What woman would know about something like that?

Glancing to where Chiara lays unconscious, I feel something stir inside me, an unease that won’t go away. Chiara is nothing like all those other women, but this is no longer about control, or even power either.

This is about something bigger than us. Something older, and something more dangerous.

My heart pounds harder in my chest as I pull my eyes away from her, choosing to look over at my brother once more.

Mikhail’s face remains stony, unreadable. He doesn’t say a word. The same confusion is clear in his gaze as it is in mine when our eyes lock together. Finally, my brother speaks.

“Do you think she might be a princess?”

There’s a pause.

I freeze, hating how that question makes my stomach tighten.

Together, we have spent days—weeks—watching her. We have followed her every move. We have seen the way she presents herself to the world.

And it’s only now that my brother has asked the question that things seem to make much more sense. The pieces shift, slowly clicking into place.

Rumours I have heard over the years, how the Russians were involved in an attack, leaving the Italians defenceless. How an internal affair within the higher ranks of the Italian mafia almost resulted in a full-blown war. There were whispers, some which have never made sense until now.

Rubbing a hand over my face, I groan.

Could she be?

Could this girl really be a princess?

Could she be the daughter of a soldier in the Mafia?

Chiara.

An Italian name, but no proof in place to link her to the Mafia.

If she is, then everything will change. This will no longer be some random girl we’ve taken from the streets. My brother and I have made a move that might possibly ruin everything.

The weight of it presses against my chest, suffocating me.

What will this mean for us?

For our future?

Will my brother and I be trusted to take over after this?

My mind races with endless possibilities. If she is who Mikhail thinks she is—an Italian princess—then our actions have just opened a floodgate; a war we never intended to start.

Her face appears in my head again, so limp and vulnerable before us.

“What the fuck have we done, Mikhail?”

I mutter under my breath, breathing out heavily, my knuckles turning white from my tight grip.

Again, Mikhail doesn’t say anything for a long time. When he does finally speak, his voice is low, and thoughtful too.

“We put ourselves right in the middle of something bigger than us, brat. But have no doubt. We’ll get through this together.“

I swallow hard, my throat tightening as I force myself to continue breathing.

We can’t walk away from this. What’s done is done.

If Chiara really is a princess…if Chiara really is part of the Italian bloodline…

Mikhail and I are in too deep.

My brother looks down at his phone again, his eyes scanning over the screen, his lips curling into a grim expression. He doesn’t need to say anything else—his words already speak volumes.

“If Chiara really is a princess, then she’ll have people looking for her. We’ll find out soon enough if she is who we think she is.”

I exhale sharply, the weight of the situation crushing me like a slow, inevitable collapse.

Before anybody can look for her, Mikhail and myself will ask her our own questions first. There must be a reason why she knows all of this information, and we’ll be sure to get to her before anybody else can.

Mikhail snaps me out of my thoughts, tugging on my arm as his fingers clasp tightly over my forearm, the bond between us always present.

Turning to face him, I find our bodies instinctively leaning into one another as we both speak the same unspoken language.

My brother looks at me, the same storm that rages in my eyes reflecting in his gaze.

His jaw clenches, then he shrugs his shoulders backward.

“Will we give her away?”

My blood surges as I feel fury rising in my chest.

Nobody will touch our property.

Nobody will touch what belongs to us.

Not now.

Not ever.

I shake my head as I grip his forearm even tighter, feeling the strength in both of our bodies as I lean in closer to my twin, lowering my voice.

“Never.”

Mikhail’s shoulders relax, but the dark fire still remains in his eyes.

He understands me. He always has.

“We’ve taken her.” I rasp, the certainty in my words wrapping around us both. “And she’s ours. We will fight and kill anybody who dares to come our way.”

There is no room for doubt in my mind, no question of weakness.

Our bond is forged by blood, and now Chiara has been caught in this web we’ve spun.

Chiara will become ours in ways she cannot even imagine.

Mikhail nods slowly at me, his expression hardening as the darkness in his eyes only seems to deepen.

“Nobody will ever take her from us.”

My brother agrees.

I think for a moment as my thoughts go to where they always go in times like this; the next move, the next place, the next step to getting things done.

We’ve taken her, and now we’ll shape her into becoming someone who belongs to us.

Chiara will depend on us, not only for survival, but for everything.

Her heart.

Her mind.

Her body.

And when she finally accepts that she is ours, when she finally understands that there is no escaping from us, only then will she fully belong to us.

The thought of her accepting us both freely without any fear sends my heart soaring. It’s what I want. It’s what Mikhail wants. We won’t break her—not yet—but we will soon. If she doesn’t cooperate, then we will do it in a way that pains her, slowly, carefully, until she sees no other world but us.

As my brother moves, so do I.

This is just the beginning.

It may be a dangerous game we’re playing, but I don't care.

She’s ours now. And nobody—absolutely nobody—will ever dare to take her from us.

Together, we walk towards our captive.

We will not let her go. Not now. Not ever.

Chiara is here to stay.

As our captive.

And as ours.

Always.

Forever.