Bratva Beast (Bravikov Bratva #1)

Chapter 8

CYNRIC

I’m standing in the warehouse glaring down at Wystan, who is chatting up the new little drug mule. She’s exactly his type. A waif of a thing with no brain and no conscience. My mind goes back to dropping Isabella at the hospital. She’s got her morning sickness down to a simple plan. She eats before she puts her feet on the ground and avoids any smell she doesn’t like. Thane, the brother closest to my age, wasn’t happy when I put him at the hospital. He’s the new security guard. He’d just gotten back from his latest stint in Latin America and wasn’t looking for any job, let alone a job at a hospital. Fingers hacked their system and created the new job and put Thane in it.

“Wystan. Stop fucking around. Send her out.”

Wystan flicks his head at Papa as the old man looks up at me. He grumbles as he turns to walk up the stairs. “When were you going to tell me you ruined my ward?”

Here we go. “I didn’t think I had to tell you. I assumed you would know.”

He grits his teeth and grabs the bottle of vodka on the table. “And I do.” He starts a Russian diatribe about loyalty and women. Finally, coming to a stop, he shakes his head. “It got you out of that fucking tomb you were in.”

“She did that.”

“I hope she’ll bring you happiness like your mother gave me.”

“She is.”

He puts his hand on my shoulder. “Give me a grandson.”

I smirk.

He blows out his breath. “Fuck, she’s already pregnant? Jesus. That’s fast.”

“Coming from the man who got my mother pregnant the very first time.”

His fat finger hits my chest. “I married her.”

“And I’ll marry Isabella.”

My father growls. “I will not have an illegitimate heir.”

Rolling my eyes, I look down at the old man. “I’m marrying her, but even if I didn’t, she’s mine and so is the child.”

He nods. “Grandson.”

“Well, if not this time, then the next.”

“Good. You’re going to the fundraiser this weekend. I don’t want to go, and you need to take on your role.”

“Yebat! I am Sovietnik. I’m running everything while you’re gallivanting around the world.”

“Pfft. It’s my right as the Pakhan to do whatever I want.”

“It is, Papa. I’ll do the fundraiser.”

“You’ll get the girl a makeover and a stylist and take her, too.”

Isabella’s not a fucking doll. “She’ll have her medical degree soon, and she’ll never agree to being an empty face. She’s like my mother.”

“I realize, but she still has a role to play. Dress her up and make her look like the wife of the future Pakhan.” He grabs my shirt. “And fucking marry her.” He turns and walks back out the door as I sigh.

Prick. How do I convince her to marry me? The beast inside me snarls. No convincing. Take her to a judge and make it happen. Judge Edwards owes me. My head is spinning with different scenarios. Just ask her.

I walk into the penthouse. It’s Sunday and the fourth one in a row where Mrs. Belova isn’t here. Isabella mentioned Mrs. Belova should be with her family on Sundays. It’s not a hardship. I’ve fucked Isabella all over the condo while she’s been gone. I stop in the foyer. Isabella is belting out a pop song. I’ve heard it, and she’s doing the song like she was made for it. I creep down the hall and peer around the kitchen. She’s dressed in a t-shirt with no bottoms with a spatula in her hand. She flips the sandwich in the pan. I ease up to the counter and sit quietly. Let’s see how pissed she is when she turns around and sees me. Her hips sway to the music. She really is this young. My kid is so lucky to have her and so am I. She turns with the spatula up in the air, rotating to the beat of the song. Her eyes ping open as I smirk.

“Fuck!” She bobbles the spatula but doesn’t drop it.

“Tsk, tsk. You can’t be swearing. You’re going to be a mother.”

She stops moving, her brow furrows, and her mouth drops open. “You scared me.”

“I think startled is a better description.”

She shakes the spatula. “Whatever. We need to put a bell on you.”

“Not likely.” I flick my head to the pan. “Flip.”

She spins around. “Shit.” She slides the spatula under the sandwich and drops it on the empty plate. “You’re lucky I didn’t burn this.”

“Uh, huh. What do I have to do to get one of those?”

She picks up the plate and sets it between us on the counter. “What ya got?”

“A million dollars.”

Her brow peaks as her face contorts. “For a sandwich? How about a kiss?”

“I can give you the money and a kiss, or whatever else you want. Just because you want it, you don’t even have to give me the damn sandwich.”

She holds out the sandwich next to my mouth. “We can share.”

I take a bite. “That’s good.”

“Bacon Tomato Grilled Cheese.”

“That’s my new favorite sandwich.”

She walks around the counter and jumps onto the stool next to me. “Did you see Papa?”

“I did? How do you know where I went?”

She grabs her phone and plays her voicemail. “Isabella. It appears you are marrying my son. Certain things will be required of you. I will send Magdalena to you later today so she can give you the information you need. Don’t try to avoid this. You’re carrying my grandson.”

I shake my head. “Jesus. He couldn’t wait for me to get home and talk to you?”

She pushes the end button on her phone. “I’m going to be unhappy, huh?”

“Probably. But at least it’s the Pakhan’s fault and not mine.”

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to save you.”

I cock my head. “We need to get you new clothes. You’re going to have to go to more events, and you need to dress and act like the wife of the future Pakhan. Magdalena can help facilitate that. Do you remember her?”

“Maybe. Wasn’t she the girlfriend after your mom? Papa wouldn’t marry her, so she married some other old Russian dude who worked for your dad. She’s like the old lady of the women in the bratva.”

I laugh. “Great explanation. Yeah. She’s nice. She’ll give you what you need, and she’s used to thumbing her nose at Papa, so there is that.”

Isabella chews another bite of the sandwich. “What else?”

“We have to go to the fundraiser on Friday. I’m sure you’re going to say you have to work, but it’s a command performance. You’ll need to look like you want to be there.” I duck my head, picking it back up to see her cringy face. “And you have to look the part.”

“Great. Let me guess. It’ll be like the prom I didn’t go to.”

I sigh. “Yeah, but without the corsage.”

She stands up and scoots the plate in front of me. “Are we making dinner or going out?”

“How about we do takeout? You can choose one of those sweet rom com movies, and I’ll rub your feet.”

Isabella beams. “I do like chick flicks.” She brushes her lips across my lips. “I’m going to take a nap. If you finish that sandwich and get naked before I fall asleep, I’ll let you fuck me.”

I cram the rest of the sandwich in my mouth, chewing like a beaver, and follow behind like a whipped puppy, needing attention from my mistress. She chuckles as I take off pieces of clothing as I walk.

ISABELLA

The team of people necessary to make me over into the perfect future wife I’m supposed to be is ridiculous. Magdalena stands with her arms crossed, pointing out things she doesn’t like. She shakes her head. “More blush. She needs to appear happy and healthy.”

I sigh. “I think we’re good.”

She tilts her head. “Can we make the breasts higher?”

I gasp. “Come on. I’m supposed to look like Cynric’s girlfriend, not his hooker.” Heavy steps approach and I cringe. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful.”

She smirks and waves her hand. “You’re right.” She turns to greet Cynric. “I should be going.” She steps to Cynric and tips her head. “Thank you for the opportunity to do something useful.”

Cynric frowns, replying in Russian that she’s always useful and appreciated.

She moves around Cynric and snaps her fingers at the three stylists who finish packing up their stuff.

Cynric watches the group exit the penthouse and stares. The look of possession on his face makes my panties wet and I groan. “Say something.”

He stalks to me and touches my lips with his finger. Assuring the lipstick won’t smudge, he slams his mouth on mine. I moan into his mouth as he holds me in his arms, kissing me like his life depends on it. He breaks the kiss. “You’re a goddess.”

That’s a kick-ass line. I drop my gaze. “Thanks.”

He lifts my chin. “You’re stunning.” He leans in. “Magdalena was wrong. Your breasts are perfect. I’m not sure I want to go out at all.”

I laugh. “Oh, that will go over well with Papa.”

“Prick.” He kisses my nose. “I’ll go change.” He strides to our bedroom as Mrs. Belova walks into the sitting room with a food tray.

“You need to eat something. Those events have awful food.”

I take the large napkin from her hand and drape it across my chest before I devour the fruit and cheese on the plate.

CYNRIC

The waitstaff removes the entrée dishes as the atmosphere of the room changes. There is someone staring at me or Isabella. When we arrived an hour ago, the room stopped when we walked in. Men stared at Isabella wanting to take her from me, and women snarled knowing they couldn’t compete. Isabella being Isabella was oblivious to the room. I squeeze her hand.

“What?”

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

“I know better. What is it?”

“People have been staring at you all night. You’re the most beautiful woman here.” She blushes. I can imagine the blush darkening her pink nipples, and my cock hardens.

A voice echoes around the room as the fundraising director speaks. “We’d like to thank all of you in attendance. You’ve all been eyeing the raffle prizes in the smaller ballroom. I hope you all take a moment to peruse the options and bid on something special. A great opportunity to support the boys and girls in our community and win a wonderful prize.”

I lean in to whisper in Isabella’s ear. “Do you want to go see the prizes?”

“Sure. I don’t really need anything, though.”

“Eh. Let’s go see.”

I stand and help her out of her seat with her hand in mine. “I need to send Magdalena a thank you note.”

She smirks as she looks up at me. “And why is that?”

“This dress is luscious on you.”

She laughs. “Luscious? That’s a top-shelf word. You’re assuming she picked this out?”

My brow raises. “Didn’t she?”

She snickers as we walk into the other room. “She did. I wanted the simple black dress.”

“Oh no. This is the dress. I can’t wait to peel this little number right off your body before I remind you who you belong to.”

“Cave man.”

“You have no idea. All these men staring at you is driving me crazy. You’re mine.”

Her head pivots, and she offers a small gasp. “I don’t want to be the center of attention.”

“That ship has sailed. You are too beautiful to ignore. My Isabella. You better get used to it. You can have your career and the life you want, as long as I’m the boss and you remain safe.”

She looks up at me with a snarl. “I’m a grown woman, I don’t need a boss.” Her eyebrow lifts. “Except in the bedroom.”

My cock has a zipper indentation along the front. I want nothing more than to walk her out the door and get into the SUV and fuck her on the bench seat. I’m aware someone will tell my father we bailed early, so I set aside my lust. We’re walking through the second set of tables with various items available for bids when a voice calls my name.

“Cynric? I’m surprised to see you.” Jose Aguilar stares at my neck and then makes eye contact. “I heard you were staying in your penthouse.”

Isabella tightens her grip on my hand. The little waif is offering support. I appreciate her intentions, but he can’t say anything to me that matters.

“Aguilar. I’m surprised to see you at a fundraiser for the benefit of children.”

The dark-haired woman frowns at his side. Her lipstick is smeared all over her face and her teeth. If I didn’t know he hated women before, I’d guess it now. She looks drugged and scared.

“Now Cynric. Are we talking business in front of the women?”

I peer at Isabella and whisper in Russian. “Go grab a drink at the bar. Make sure my brother keeps an eye on you. I’ll join you in a moment.”

Isabella glares, answering in Russian. “Yes, sir.” She sashays her cute ass as she walks away.

I glance at the woman at his side.

“Oh, she’s too stupid to be of any concern.”

I snort. “Nevertheless. She needs to go powder her nose.” I mumble about the lipstick on her face, and he smirks.

“Go fix your face.”

The woman stumbles before finding her feet and heads to the restroom. Isabella is leaning against the bar sipping a drink with fruit. I turn my attention to the Latin American man in front of me.

Aguilar’s eyes darken, a predatory gleam flickering across his face. “Business diversification, my friend. These fundraisers are excellent places to scout new… opportunities.”

Bile rises in my throat but I maintain my composure. Only an idiot would shop where he spends time. “I see. And here I thought you might have decided to shift out of the kiddie trade.”

He laughs, a harsh, grating sound. “And miss all the profit and the fun? You’re getting soft, Cynric.”

I lean in closer, lowering my voice. “Not soft. Smart. There are lines even we shouldn’t cross. We won’t traffic people regardless of the potential for profit. We’ll leave that to you.”

Aguilar’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Lines are for the weak. I go where the profit is.”

I notice Isabella watching us intently from the bar, concern etched on her face. She’ll stay put. Keep me in her sights but she won’t come back. She’s aware of what our bratva does, but would never involve herself. The perfect place for my future wife.

Aguilar continues. “And speaking of profit. I hope your brother enjoyed his time with our cartel.”

“I assume so. We’re seeing a profit in drug distribution on the entire East coast. Your uncle seemed pleased when he spoke to my father.”

Aguilar nods. “He is. We’re happy to handle the toys while you handle the snacks.”

Total idiot with their adolescent code words for drugs. He leans in. “I have a proposition for your father.”

“I’m listening.”

Aguilar casts his eyes around the expansive ballroom, whispering. “Not here. Tell your father I want to meet with him.”

“You know that’s not how it’s done. You meet with me, and I discuss the opportunity with my Pakhan.”

“Pakhan. Such a funny word.”

I chuckle. “Would you prefer ‘patron’?”

He smirks. “Let’s meet at the New Jersey warehouse tomorrow at midnight. Don’t bring your entire group, Cynric.”

I nod.

Aguilar nods, seemingly satisfied. “Excellent. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have potential investors to charm.”

I shudder. Why is it that pedophiles pretend to care about childhood causes? I turn to see Isabella attempting to step away from an older man at the bar. It’s a former New York judge. I quicken my pace feeling the beast rise. My hand reaches for her. I wrap my arms around her waist. “Judge Edwards.”

His eyes bulge at my voice. “Mr. Bravikov. I didn’t realize she belonged to you.”

I glance to my brother who’s wrapped himself around a busty woman in a too-short dress. I turn back to the lecherous old man. “I’m sure there are some barely legal women for you to assault.”

He smirks. “Now, now. That was just the one time.”

“One time caught.” I banter back. “If you’ll excuse us, we need to place a bid.”

I pull Isabella away. “Thank you. I told him I wasn’t interested. He told me to tell you Aguilar’s opportunity should be avoided.”

“Shit.” I keep us walking to the tables to place some bids. “I fucking hate the damn competition among the factions.”

She glances up. “Factions?”

“Yeah. The three groups that want a piece of what we have. The judge serves the Ukrainians, but he owes me..”

“Huh.” She nods and then points to a poster of a beach scene. “Think we could do something like that for Christmas, while I’m on break?”

I bend and press my lips to hers. “Definitely. Just make sure you have a bikini so I can enjoy your bump.”

She looks down at the floor before raising her head back up to lock eyes with me. “We haven’t talked about that.”

I nod. “We will. Just wanted to give you time to wrap yourself around the new adventure.” The hair raises on the back of my neck, and I turn into the knowing eyes of Aguilar. I should have been more careful with my words. Damn it. He knows Isabella is carrying my child. Fuck!

His eyes sparkle. “A beach vacation. What’s that called? A babymoon?”

Isabella reacts perfectly. “You misunderstand.”

He nods. “Oh. Well, time will tell.” He tips his head and walks away.

Isabella’s brow creases. “It’s a problem that he has that information.”

“It is.” I’m kicking myself and screaming in my head. “We’ll need to up your protection. I’m sorry. It isn’t what you want, but he’s evil.”

She runs her hand down my face. “I’m not worried. I have my beast.”

I whisper. “And I’ll disembowel anyone who fucks with us.”