Forced By the Ruthless Bratva Beast (Tarasov Bratva #3)

Chapter 3 – Roman

The orange glow of the evening sun cast its warm lights across the vast mountains, their summits bathed in the sunset. The sounds of roaring engines filled the air, echoing over the horizon as we raced on the road that snaked through the hills like a serpent, our tires screeching against the asphalt.

Kostya was in the driver's seat, his fingers firmly wrapped around the steering wheel. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the road, taking deadly drifts with practiced precision.

I sat rigidly in the passenger seat, seatbelt securely fastened, fingers clenched around the grab handle for support. My body stiffened slightly as the sleek black Porsche 911 floored the unwinding mountain road at high speed. The speedometer needle quivered at triple digits as the car's tires hummed a steady pitch, accentuating the occasional squeal of rubber on asphalt.

My green eyes squinted as a wild breeze, carrying the scent of pine and earth, rushed in through the open windows. Howling in my ears, it blew over my buzz cut, cooling my scalp.

The wind whipped Kostya's hair into a frenzy as he remained focused, his grip tightening around the steering wheel. The man must be feeling like an action movie star right now as his hands moved with precision, navigating the twists and dangerously sharp turns so effortlessly.

We were almost at the finish line when I glanced at the side mirror and saw Mikhail's scarlet Ferrari 488 GTB quickly catching up. The roar of his car engine grew louder the closer he drew to us.

“Step on it, buddy. They're closing in,” I said, shooting a quick look at Kostya.

Outside, the mountain scenery was a rapid blur of movements as the landscape itself seemed to rush past in a dizzying whirl. Occasionally, I'd catch glimpses of glittering waterfalls and distant valleys as we pressed onward.

Instinctively, my body leaned into the comfy seat, and I braced myself as Kostya accelerated, almost doubling his speed. He was at dangerous speed, but I loved it—the thrill, the adventure, the feeling of adrenaline pumping through my blood. The evil smirk playing on his lips was a clear indication that he, too, was enjoying this, and I was certain Afanasy and Mikhail shared the same excitement.

Mikhail, being the one at the wheel, soon caught up with us, and we were neck and neck with his Ferrari. Afanasy, from the passenger seat, stuck his head through the window, a pesky little grin plastered on his face. “So long, suckers!” He laughed, slithering back into his seat. “Hit it, Mikhail!”

And just like that, those two bastards whooshed past us with an incredible speed, Afan's whoop of exhilaration echoing through the landscape.

“Dang it!” I slammed a palm on the dashboard, my forehead creasing in playful irritation as we reached the finish line seconds after they did.

Both cars skidded to a stop by the sea, our tires kicking up clouds of dust as our engines shut off.

“Yeah, baby! That's what I'm talking about!” Afan stepped out of their car parked at a distance, wiggling his waist rhythmically.

I opened the door and slid out, inhaling the scent of burned rubber and saltwater that wafted through the air. Kostya did the same, watching as Afan danced mockingly, celebrating their win.

He turned to face me as he walked over to Mikhail's Ferrari. “I swear to God, I could put a bullet in his head right now.”

I flashed him a faint grin. “Well, it's not his fault that we lost.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” He cocked his head, eyes squinting at me.

“I don't know. Maybe if you had stepped on it when I asked you to, we would've won—who knows?” I shrugged my shoulders slightly on the last statement.

“Easy for you to say,” he replied. “Next time, you're taking the wheel.”

“It doesn't matter which one of you is at the wheel; you're still gonna lose.” Afan chuckled as we halted in front of him.

“Ha, ha. Very funny.” Kostya jokingly shoved Afan, but the latter was quick enough to deflect the advance, laughing. “Oh, you think you're fast, ehh?” A mischievous scowl settled on Kostya's face.

Afan swallowed hard, his hands thrown up in surrender. He knew better than to engage Kostya in a brawl, even though he was just as skilled in physical combat. Regardless of his playful nature, my younger brother, Afan, was also a ruthless bastard like the rest of us.

“Didn't think so,” Kostya said to him, chuckling.

Mikhail joined us, and as we laughed, our attention drifted to the car approaching us, a sleek white Rolls Royce Phantom VIII—my car. The vehicle pulled over by Kostya's Porsche, and Boris Smirnov alighted, standing sentinel outside the shut door, his eyes fixed on us.

“I don't know if I've told you this, but your right-hand man gives me the creeps,” Afan whispered to me, stealing glances at Boris.

I scoffed, shaking my head, fingers gently rubbing over my eyes. Boris had that effect on people. The man was scary as fuck, and I never went anywhere without him. He hadn’t been a part of the race, but he'd followed us out here.

“He's been your shadow for as long as I can remember,” Mikhail said, looking in Boris's direction before fixing his eyes on me. “Now that you're the Pakhan , I bet he'll never leave your side.” He flashed a corny smile.

Afan chuckled, nodding his head in agreement as the two men had a fist bump.

“Temporary Pakhan ,” I corrected, slipping a hand in my pocket, eyes darting across the vast ocean.

Seagulls squealed overhead, and the waves crashed against the rocky shores in rhythmic accompaniment. The setting sun draped its warm glow over the horizon, and we stood bathed in it.

Afan gave a soft grunt, hopping onto the trunk of the car. “Temporary or permanent, a promotion is a promotion, and it should be celebrated,” he said, his gaze shifting across our faces.

“Artem's surgery was a success, Uncle Ivan is around, and you're the new temporary Pakhan ,” Kostya chipped in, looking at me with a sly grin on his lips. “I'm with Afan on this one; we need to celebrate.”

“Yeah,” said Afan, his voice tinged with mischief. “Let's get wasted, blow off some steam, fuck some random chicks in an orgy.” He chuckled, his brows wiggling at us.

“Okay, I take it back. I'm not with you on this one.” Kostya put his head down, fingers pressing against his forehead, embarrassed by the idea.

Mikhail leaned closer to whisper to Afan. “He's married now. Keep that in mind next time you propose something like this.”

“Oh, shit. My bad.” His response was laced with a glimmer of mild sarcasm, which caused the rest of us to laugh. “Alright. No orgies then.” He paused for a moment before adding. “Blowjobs, maybe?” His brows rose teasingly, eyes shining with roguish charm. “Come on, a good head never hurts anyone.”

“Some good liquor would be nice for the night,” Kostya said, his soft tone carrying a hint of finality.

Afan groaned in objection. “You sound like Pakhan Artem right now, always taking the fun out of everything.” He rolled his eyes and added almost immediately, “Just don't tell him I said that, though.” A momentary seriousness settled on his gaze.

“We should hit Jupiter for the night,” Mikhail suggested. “Can't think of a better place to blow off some steam than Roman's high-class nightclub.” He looked at me, smiling.

“Yeah, good idea,” Kostya seconded and turned to face me. “What do you say, Roman?”

My partying days were over, and even though I owned a couple of nightclubs scattered across the city, I really wasn't a fan of those places anymore. I'd had my fair share of fooling around with them in my twenties. Once upon a time, I used to be drawn to the nightlife—the booze, the women, and the orgies, like Afan had proposed. But now, none of that excited me anymore. I was all about the Bratva business and how to take it to greater heights.

However, my brothers seemed keen on celebrating at Jupiter tonight, and despite my reservations, I knew one night wouldn't hurt.

As my gaze shifted across their faces, I could see the anticipation in their eyes, and I couldn't let them down. “Fuck it,” I said dismissively, a smirk slowly lining the corners of my lips. “Let's have some fun.”

“Ha! Now that's what I'm talking about!” Afan clapped once and hopped off the car trunk, his voice dripping with excitement. “Let's get this party started.”

***

It was crazy in here—lots of fancy lights crisscrossing the crowded space as dancers moved their bodies in a frenzy to the loud music thundering through the speakers.

I couldn't fathom how I used to find places like fun to hang around. Well, I was much younger then, and life hadn't dealt me its toughest blows.

Afan was already nodding to the DJ's hypnotic beats, his waist twirling behind a random girl's behind. She turned slightly, shot her head up, and caught a glimpse of the charming man rocking her from the back. The girl smiled, bending over to position her ass so he could grind over it. Afan smirked and did just that, his palms grabbing her waist.

I scoffed at the sight, shaking my head as Kostya and I made our way upstairs to a VIP lounge while Mikhail stayed back to literally pull Afan away from the girl.

Afan was the most fun and easygoing one among us, and he was no alien to places like this. But although he seemed unserious eighty percent of the time, he was just as ruthless as he was playful.

As we ascended the steps, my eyes caught a beautiful woman at the bar. She had the most amazing smile I'd seen all week, and she seemed to be talking with one of my bartenders. She was a brunette, petite with the shape of a model, but I didn't get a good look at her as we were already at the head of the steps.

Mikhail and Afan joined us, and we headed to the VIP lounge reserved for the Tarasov family. I didn't come around often, but whenever I did—alone or with friends and family—this was where we always lounged. I opened the door, and we walked into the dimly lit room bathed in a soft golden glow that enveloped the plush cream-colored couches, sofas, and polished marble floors.

Everyone else took a seat, the fine leathers crunching at their weights, but Boris stood by the door like a watchman.

“Hey, big guy,” Afan called out, and Boris turned to face him, his neck moving like Arnold Schwarzenegger's from the Terminator movie. “We're here to blow off some steam—have a good time. You can chill.” He sighed, tapping the space on the couch he was seated on. “Here. Come sit down.”

Boris was reluctant at first, his eyes darting toward me, and I gave an approving nod. He walked over to my brother and sat beside him.

I stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass panels, which offered a breathtaking view of the lively dance floor below. From this vantage point, I could see everyone and everything going on in my club.

The door opened, and a sweet feminine voice caught my attention, prompting me to turn around and add a face to the voice that had caused my chest to flutter.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I'm Julia, and I'll be your hostess for the night,” she said.

My brows arched instantly as I gazed at the woman in front of us.

Her dark, silky hair cascaded down her back, framing her face as her hazel eyes shifted between each of us. Her smile warmed my stone-cold heart, but I maintained a blank expression, subtly checking her out.

She was pretty. No arguments there, as her petite frame belied a striking presence. Her outfit, a knee-length, full-sleeved fitted dress, accentuated her curves and her model-honed physique.

Looking closely, I realized that she was the same woman I'd seen smiling at the bar earlier. I couldn't recall seeing her before, so she must be a recent hire.

She sashayed over to the center of the room, a mysterious glint in her hazel eyes. “What's the damage? What can I get you gentlemen tonight?”

“Oh, love. We're men, alright. But we're far from gentle,” Afan said, crossing his legs as he relaxed on the backrest of the couch.

“Well, you're in luck because that's why I'm here,” she replied, her gaze sweeping across the group before settling on me. “To tame the beast within.”

“Ooh.” Mikhail let out a low breath, his tone husky and intrigued, dripping with amusement.

My brows rose instinctively at the confidence she exuded, eyes narrowing slightly. “Don't get too cocky; some beasts aren't so easily tamed,” I said, looking right at her, but she wouldn't flinch or break eye contact.

“Maybe.” She shrugged her shoulders. “But eventually, they all do.” For a moment there, she went silent, her gaze unwavering, before she looked at Afan. “But don't worry, darling. I've handled worse monsters in heels.” She winked at him.

Afan laughed. “I'm shaking in my boots.”

Impressed by her wits and sass, Kostya and Mikhail exchanged glances, chuckling as they shook their heads.

I was amused by her and the fact that she was looking at me without fear in her eyes. Usually, whenever women like her met with me for the first time, they would tend to act silly out of anxiety or tension. But she was different and wasn't exhibiting any signs of nervousness.

“For real, though,” she said, pulling me from my thoughts. “What's the damage? Drinks or something more…sensual?” The slight pause came when she returned her gaze to me.

Is she flirting with me? I wondered, watching her enticing lips part slightly, her eyes pinned on me like a hook to a fish.

I could feel the sexual tension hovering around us and also the stares of my brothers lingering on me. My brows furrowed, and my expression softened as I drank in the subtle glint of flirtation in her gaze.

Mikhail conspicuously cleared his throat, drawing her attention to him. “I'll have a whiskey, neat. Make it a double.”

“Are you sure?” Afan asked him. “You're gonna regret that in the morning.”

“Not if I water it down for him,” Julia chipped in, smiling at them.

Mikhail chuckled. “Amazing.”

She took Kostya's and Afan's orders and then shifted her attention back to me. “And for you, sir?” Her lashes battered at me as she blinked a few times.

There was something erotic in her eyes. It was subtle, but it was there, and the energy radiating from her was pulling me closer. However, I remained unphased.

“What would you like?” she asked, her gaze never leaving my face.

“Just a gin and tonic will do,” I said, my eyes discreetly roaming her curves.

“Lime or lemon?” she inquired, her voice low and sexy.

I felt my eyes crinkling at the corners, and I flashed her a smirk. “Surprise me.”

A smile settled on her pretty face, illuminating her pale skin. “Dangerous choice,” she said, then broke eye contact. “I'll be right back.”

I watched her gracefully walk away, exiting the room.

“Oh, my God!” Afan said, his voice dripping with excitement. “She was totally into you, brother.” He looked at me, chuckling. “Please, tell me you saw that at least.”

“The sexual tension was off the charts,” Boris said, his thick voice a little rusty from disuse.

Immediately, the room went silent as the others all turned to face him, shock flickering in their eyes. This was the first time he was speaking all day.

“See? Even Schwarzenegger here felt it,” said Afan, tapping Boris's shoulder.

She is attractive. That's a fact.

I shook my head, walked over to the couch, and settled down, letting out a soft groan. There was something about this woman that I just couldn't wrap my head around. She was mysterious, and that was one of the things that drew me to her.

“Don't we have better stuff to discuss than a woman?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject.

Afan laughed. “You're just running away from the truth,” he said to me, leaning closer. “But, uhh, Mikhail and I were talking about something that I think I'd love to hear your take on.”

Subject successfully changed.

“Okay,” I replied, indulging him.

“Alright, so I was telling Mikhail that the market is ripe for disruption and that our startup can capitalize on the growing demand for sustainable energy.”

“Of course,” I replied, narrowing my brows as I looked at Mikhail. “Did you disagree?”

“No, I did not,” he replied, sitting up in his chair.

“Yes, you did,” Afan said to him, his voice accusing.

“No,” came Mikhail's defensive response. “What I said was that we needed to mitigate the risks—that the competition was fierce.”

“True,” Kostya chipped in. “But I think we should explore partnerships with established players.”

“Yes. It'll give us access to resources, not to mention credibility,” I said, toiling with my cufflinks, my mind racing with infinite possible strategies to make this work.

The door swung open, and Julia returned with our drinks arranged on a tray expertly balanced on her palm. “Gentlemen, your refreshments.”

“That was fast,” Afan commended her, his tone tinged with amazement.

“Thank you,” she replied with a smile, serving each of us our orders. “You kinda get a hang of it after a few months of doing the same thing over and over.”

Kostya's eyes narrowed at her, his brows knitting together. “Wait a minute,” he said to her. “I've seen you before, haven't I?”

She squinted, her head tilting sideways as if thinking about the possibility of them meeting before now. “Uh…I don't…I don't know….”

He clicked his tongue and snapped his fingers, his eyes widening as the realization sank in. “You were at my wedding,” he declared, scrutinizing her.

Her brows rose in confusion as she struggled to recall what he was saying.

“You were my wife's chief bridesmaid,” he added for further clarity.

Her face softened, and a smile played on her lips. “Oh, my God. You're Madelyn's husband,” she exclaimed. “I knew it. I knew you looked familiar, but I just couldn't….” The words burst out of her amidst chuckles. “How is she? I lost contact with her after the wedding.”

“She's fine,” he replied, relaxing in his seat.

“So, you two know each other?” Afan asked, his eyes shifting between them.

“Not exactly,” she replied, smiling. “His wife and I used to be best friends.”

“What a small world, ehh?” Mikhail chipped in, wasting no time to sip from his glass.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” she muttered under her breath, pouring my drink into a glass.

“Hey, Jules—can I call you Jules?” Afan asked her.

She laughed. “Yes, of course.”

“Excellent,” he replied with a single clap. “My brothers and I were discussing the future of sustainable energy, and I was hoping to hear your take on it.” He fixed his eyes on her.

“Um, might I ask why?” She raised her brows, clearly as stunned as I was about his statement.

I took my gaze off her and settled on my brother. “Yeah, Afan. Why?” I asked, my forehead creasing slightly, hinting at my disapproval.

He ignored my scowl and replied, looking at her, “You're a woman, and they say women always give good advice.”

I knew exactly what he was trying to do. The idiot was trying to engage her in this conversation so he'd involve her with me.

Sneaky move, little brother.

I cast a playful glare at him, and he just winked at me.

“Please, take a seat,” he said to her, gesturing at a vacant sofa across from me. “Let's hear your thoughts.”

She sat down and exhaled softly with a smile as she took a moment to collect her thoughts.

I arched my brows with a subtle move, noticing how she crossed her legs. Her full-sleeved fitted dress rustled softly as she exuded confidence, leaning back a bit.

“Well,” she began, and I was curious to know what she had in mind, “business-wise, I think the key to success—or one of the keys to success—lies in integrating sustainability into the heart of the business model rather than treating it as an…add-on.”

The men all had their eyes on me, and honestly speaking, I hadn’t been expecting such an intelligent response from a VIP hostess.

“That's an amazing point, Jules,” Kostya admitted, nodding his head impressively. “But how do you think organizations or companies can efficiently and effectively measure return on investments into sustainable initiatives?”

This was personal now because he was equating it with the Bratva's current situation with this problem. From her thought process, she might just provide us with an excellent solution.

I was intrigued and ready to hear her.

“For starters, these companies can adopt a triple-bottom-line approach,” she replied, her gaze sweeping the room.

We exchanged glances, and she read the puzzled looks on our faces, then clarified, “I mean, people, planet, and profit,” Julia continued. “It's important that these organizations quantify the environmental and also social impacts alongside profit making.”

For a moment there, I thought I was in a board meeting, and Julia was a stakeholder, sharing insights on how to move the company forward. I had to admit, I was blown away by her articulate delivery.

“Impressive,” Mikhail said, smiling at her. “It's a holistic approach that I think we can adopt.” He leaned in closer. “However, I'm a little confused about how we can, you know, overcome the initial investment cost.”

She let out a sharp exhale, her palms instinctively smoothing her dress as her brows furrowed. “That's gonna be tough. But if you ask me—which you have—I'd say that long-term brand reputation enhancement and savings outweigh the upfront cost.” She drew a deep breath. “Maybe consider the implementation of these sustainable services in—”

“Phases.” I stole the word right from her mouth.

She looked at me and smirked. “Exactly. That way, you'll prioritize high-impact initiatives.”

“I'm sorry. Who did you say you were again?” Afan laughed, impressed by this mysterious woman.

She giggled, sweeping her gaze across all of us. “I'm just a girl at your service tonight.”

I wondered how she managed to look so sexy in a dress that wasn't so revealing and how she'd managed to keep all five of us on our toes, captivated by her intellect.

I leaned back in my chair, my eyes roaming her figure. It was an established fact that I was attracted to her. Why wouldn't I be? She was beautiful and had brains, too.

“Speaking of services,” Afan said, groaning slightly as he rose to his feet. “I think mine's needed elsewhere.”

I jerked my gaze to him, furrowing my brows as the others did the same, each one picking up his bottle and glass. My fingers rubbed my eyes as I put my head down, realizing that they were setting me up with her.

In a single file, they all exited the room, and Kostya, being the last to leave, shut the door behind him but not without winking at me first.

It was quiet between us for a while until I broke the awkward silence. “So, that happened.”

“Yeah…” she drawled lazily, eyes on me.

As I stared at her, I realized that there was no point in holding back—I obviously wanted her, and I knew she wanted me, too. My gaze left her eyes, settled on her lips, and then traveled down to her cleavage.

I could feel my cock twitching in my pants, and I had to get a grip of myself. “You're brilliant,” I admitted, my eyes returning to her pretty face. “I'll give you that.”

“What?” Her head cocked sideways. “The music's loud; I can't hear you.” She rose to her feet.

Ohh. I see what you're doing, girl.

My palm swiped over my mouth as I watched her walk toward me, her alluring legs crossing each other as she approached me. Her moves were graceful—like a pageant queen on a runaway.

Julia settled on the couch I was seated upon, barely inches away from me. “I couldn't hear you properly,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “Mind repeating yourself?” Her eyes bore into mine.

I felt a flutter in my chest, and I hated it. Yet, I couldn't deny my attraction to this incredibly hot woman whose warm breath I could feel on my skin.

She was too sophisticated—too schooled to be a VIP hostess—and that alone piqued my interest. I got curious about the mystery surrounding her. She was sexy, intelligent, and, of everyone in the room, she was drawn to me. What were the odds?

“What's an intelligent woman like you doing working in a nightclub?” I asked, my gaze fixed on her face.

“A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do,” she replied, her voice low and arousing, her lashes battering at me.

“That's too vague an answer,” I said with the same tone, trying to calm my hormones, especially my cock, as I could feel it swelling in my pants.

“We could spend this little time talking about the series of unfortunate events that led me here…or…” she leaned closer, her perfectly manicured fingers brushing over my suit, “…we could do something else.” She jerked her eyes to look into mine. “Something more…stress-relieving.” Her voice dropped so low that it ceased my breath for a moment.

Alright. You asked for it.

I smirked, testing the waters by placing my palm on her thigh.

She didn't stop me, nor did she break eye contact. I dared to go up a little, and her body trembled at my touch with a soft moan that made me hard instantly.

I wanted her, and it was obviously a mutual feeling. We stared at each other for a moment, and I could see her chest swelling in anxiety as her body writhed at the feeling of fingers traveling toward her underpants.