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

Chapter 25 – Roman

The front door swung open, and I barged into Uncle Ivan's living room, eyes blazing with fury.

His men, about four of them, reacted instinctively to the way I stormed in, guns out and ready to fire.

He raised his hand, and they all lowered their weapons after recognizing who I was.

I halted before him, seething in silence, Boris standing a few paces away. My jaw clenched tighter as I glared at my uncle, unsure how this confrontation would end.

From his sofa where he sat, one leg across the other, Uncle Ivan lifted his gaze and locked eyes with me. He squinted, his forehead creasing slightly to indicate his dislike at my approach.

“I'll excuse your behavior because you're my nephew,” he said, his voice menacingly low. “Do you mind telling me why you're looking at me with so much rage in your eyes?”

“Don't bullshit me, Uncle,” I growled, throwing away my respect for him.

Jorah's brows knitted from where he stood at a corner of the room. He rose to his feet and stepped forward, his gaze pinned on me.

I heard Boris's boots clicking against the floor as he moved closer, taking a defensive stance beside me.

Ivan's men were now on their feet, casting threatening glares at me as the air charged with tension.

“You will address me with respect, boy. Do you understand?” Uncle Ivan's face twisted into a deadly frown.

With gritted teeth, I took a step forward, unfazed by his displeasure. “You lost that respect when you broke the rules…when you crossed the line,” I said, intentionally stalling so I could gather my emotions and not act out of impulse.

He was still my uncle.

His brows arched, eyes boring into mine as I boiled with rage. His face softened ever so slightly—almost undetectable—as he finally realized the reason behind my fury.

“That's right,” I hissed, my gaze unwavering. “I know. I know what you did, Uncle.”

With a deepened scowl, he rose to his feet. “You're gonna have to be a little bit more specific than that. I've done a lot of things,” he said, his tone unapologetic.

“You killed the Grays,” I muttered, my hands trembling with anger and my lips twitching at the corners. “Why?”

“You ungrateful fool,” he spat those venomous words. “You should be thanking me. I did the Bratva a favor by eliminating a threat…!”

“He was no threat!” I snapped, losing my cool. “Nor was his wife, and you killed them in cold blood!”

“Watch your tone, boy!” he thundered, his face inches from mine, spittle sprinkling on my skin. “I am still your uncle. Show some respect!”

I paused for a second, my voice leveling out. “Respect?” My brows arched at his effrontery, incredulous. “You mean like you showed me when you ordered the hit on Emily Clarkson?”

Uncle Ivan's face paled momentarily, the anger draining from his eyes.

“You knew how much I loved her,” I continued, my tone low, dripping with pain and betrayal. “Yet, you had your Terminator end her life.” I stole a glance at Jorah standing poised behind him before returning my gaze to Uncle Ivan. “And then you lied to me…for eighteen years.” My jaw tightened.

“It was a necessary evil,” he said, his face hardening without remorse. “Emily had to die for you to become the man that you are today.”

I unleashed a primal growl, triggered by his lack of remorse, as I seized him by the collar and slammed his back against the wall. I heard the sounds of cocking guns but didn't flinch.

“There you are!” he bellowed at me. “That's the monster I created! The monster that should've ripped that Gray girl limb from limb for daring to trick him!”

I yelled out, my rage finding expression as I struggled with the urge to drill my fist in his face.

“You were becoming weak, Roman!” he began, his voice rising as he fixed his eyes on me. “Your affection for that Emily girl was clouding your judgment. You were willing to give up the Bratva cause for her. You were losing yourself, nephew; I had to do something!”

My grip around his collar tightened, my arms trembling at the amount of rage jolting through my body.

“You're courageous enough to stand up to me now because I made you who you are,” he said, his voice dripping with icy control. “People fear you because of me.” He knocked my arms off effortlessly. “Everything I did, I did for the Bratva, and I don't regret it. And that's more than you can ever know.”

He walked away from me, heading into his office.

“I know enough,” I said, my voice causing him to stop in his tracks. “I know what happens to people who break the Bratva laws, irrespective of who they are.” I moved closer and halted in front of him. “You know that, and that's why you lied to cover your tracks, to save your own skin.”

He locked eyes with me, his face contorting at my words. He gritted his teeth.

“You're a coward, Uncle Ivan. And you will face the consequences of your behavior in accordance with the Bratva law.” My tone was glacial, my voice laced with menace.

His brows knitted, eyes flashing with anger and…fear? He stumbled backward, his face draining of color. “You dare threaten me?”

“If I threatened you, Uncle, you'd already be dead.” I smirked coldly. “I'm merely forecasting your future.”

Uncle Ivan's eyes bulged, a vein throbbing in his temple. His lips twitched at the corners but produced no sound until he snarled, “Jorah! Get them out of my house!”

My smirk widened, satisfied by the discomfort my words had inflicted him with. Uncle Ivan headed into his office, and as soon as the door slammed shut, his men surrounded Boris and me.

It was dishonorable to take down two defenseless men, so they all lowered their weapons, taking fighting stances.

The air thick with tension as we anticipated the chaos about to erupt like molten magma from a volcanic mountain.

Instantly, the men charged in at us, and while Boris was handling them, I faced off against the mighty Jorah. He was bigger than me, older, and probably even more experienced.

But at this point, I was angrier, smarter, and faster. Uncle Ivan might have pointed the gun, but Jorah was the one who pulled the trigger. He was the reason Emily was dead, the reason Julia's life was ruined.

I lunged at him with all that rage surging through me, our hands a rapid blur of movements. Blows and kicks were exchanged in a heated brawl that filled the air with the sounds of thick grunts and crashing objects.

In the background, I could hear the wails of Boris's victims—the four of them were clearly no match for him.

Bones snapped, and flesh tore in this intense fight.

Jorah, noticing how formidable I was against him, resorted to arming himself with a switchblade. At first, I didn't see it until he charged, the blade slicing through the air. I dodged the deadly strike by a hair's breadth, countering with a swift jab that he deflected.

With lightning-speed reflexes, I evaded Jorah's slashing blade and soon landed a solid kick to his chest.

He stumbled backward and regained control before lunging at me. Swiftly, I sidestepped, trapping his arm in mine, and with a practiced motion, I twisted until his arm snapped from its joint like a twig. He dropped the blade, groaning in agony, and before he could reconcile with the pain, I slammed my knee into his groin.

Jorah bent over instinctively, and seizing the opportunity, I grasped his legs, lifting him with a quick, brutal motion. With a savage force, I hurled Jorah backward, and his body arched as he crashed on the ground, his neck snapping in the process. The sickening crack of breaking bone filled the air as his head struck the floor.

I turned around, and he was lying motionless, his limp body crumbled, eyes frozen in a permanent stare.

Boris struck down his final opponent and jerked his head at me, as if wondering what I would do next.

I glided toward the office and kicked the door open, only to find Uncle Ivan sitting in his chair with a gun to his head.

“I can't tarnish my name, Roman,” he said, holding my gaze as I slowly stepped into his office. “Turning myself in to be judged will ruin everything I spent so many years building.” He shook his head. “And I can't have that.”

“Put the gun down, Uncle,” I said, cautiously approaching him.

“Why, so you can tell everyone my secret?” he questioned. “I don't regret setting you on this path, Roman. But I'd rather die the hero our family thinks I am than live to jeopardize that legacy.”

I flinched subtly when he cocked the gun pointed at his temple.

“For the Bratva.”

Uncle Ivan pulled the trigger.

His body fell back in his chair, and the gun slipped out of his hold.

I froze for about a minute. He deserved it for the innocent lives he'd taken, but a part of me still felt hurt. He was family, nonetheless.

My phone rang in my pocket, and I withdrew it, staring at the screen. It was Aida.

I answered the phone, and my heart melted instantly at the cry of a baby in the background. Aida explained that Julia had just been put to bed, and my breath hitched in my throat.

In a twist of fate, I lost my uncle and gained a new life—a baby—on the same day.

***

I quickened my steps, my shoes clicking on the floor as I pushed the door open and walked into the ward.

My eyes widened at the sight of Julia, dampened in sweat, holding a baby in her arms. She was sitting on the bed with her back against the wall, eyes trained on the infant in her arms.

It was undeniable how beautiful she looked, especially when she raised her head, and her face brightened with a smile I hadn't seen for ages.

I'd stopped by the warehouse where I had her brother in good condition under surveillance and asked him to come with me. I was never going to hurt the boy—I just needed to punish her a bit.

Her eyes misted when she saw him poking his head from behind me.

“Oh, my God, Tommy!” she shrieked, her voice dripping with excitement.

He rushed over to the bed and carefully hugged her, kissing her head.

“How…?” she asked, speechless, her eyes roaming his body as if searching for injuries.

His lips curled into a smile. “I'm okay. I'm okay.”

She shifted her gaze toward me, a grin spreading across her face as I glided over to her, my attention fixed on the infant in her arms.

I’d never made time to digest the fact that I was going to be a father. But right now, seeing this cute little creature unlocked a different dimension of my emotions.

“Would you like to hold her?” Julia asked, her tone barely above a whisper.

I jerked my head, meeting her eyes, and in that moment, everything I’d once felt for her came rushing back. She held my gaze, her magnetic stare reminding me of the good times we spent together.

And just like that, all that anger, rage, and resentment dissipated, vanishing like mist in the sun.

I stretched out my hands, and Julia placed the baby in my arms. Straightening, I watched the little thing lay comfortably in my hold, its hazel eyes sparkling like diamonds.

“It's a girl.” I smiled at the mother, only now processing the pronoun Julia had used.

Julia nodded, sniffling as she dried her tears. I returned my gaze to the cutest baby in the world, my heart warming at her arrival.

This was a game changer—a new chapter in our lives that I couldn't wait to explore.

I'm a father .

I chuckled, unable to tear my gaze off my little angel.