Collared by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 11) Page 15

  My relationship with her appeared, at least on the outside, to start off as some heroic gesture, too. The first glimpse I saw of her, I knew it would turn into more. I just didn’t know how much more. She is special, she is embedded deep in my heart, she’s in a place a woman has never filled before and I rather enjoy having her there.

  The time apart may not have been what I wanted, nor what she needed, and I’ll have some making up to do with her, but I’m glad for it anyway. It made me realize that she’s what I want, everything else be damned. My own bullshit about love and relationships are on the top of that damned list as well.

  “Oh, but she is, boss,” Radimir chuckles. “Do not be embarrassed or shy. We’re all happy for you,” he chuckles.

  I roll my eyes, setting my glass down and turning toward my old friend. “I think I should tell her how I feel before I admit it to anyone else. You are right, she is different,” I admit.

  My chest aches and my hand shakes just at the thought of admitting to her how I feel. I can control her body, bend her mind, and cause her pain, then deliver the pleasure she deserves. However, I cannot admit that I love her. That simple act frightens me. It shouldn’t. I know she feels the same. I can see it in her eyes when she gives them to me. It’s why I demand them. I can see all of her when I look deep inside, just as she sees more of me than anyone else ever has.

  “What are you going to do about it?” he challenges.

  I snort at his obvious goading. “I’m going to go home. It’s time. I walked Tati down the aisle. I met my granddaughter and spent time with her. Their life is here though, and my life is in Moscow. We will stay in touch, and visits will be often, but I’ve already stayed too long.”

  Walking onto the dance floor, I find Tatyana. Clearing my throat, I look between her and her new husband. Kirill scowls, but he passes her off into my arms.

  “You’re leaving,” she whispers.

  I grunt, tugging her a bit closer, feeling her in my arms. I didn’t hold her much as a baby and child. I missed out on so much.

  “I am,” I murmur.

  Tatyana lays her head against my shoulder as we slow dance. “Treat her well, Papa,” she breathes, lifting her head up to look into my eyes. “You deserve some happiness, make sure you take it,” she grins.

  She doesn’t know just how right she is. I did take my happiness, well Katrina took her—but I’m keeping her.

  “I will, daughter. You take care of my Kiska?” I ask.

  She smiles, shaking her head, a glint of a tear in her eye. I wish I could wipe it away, but I don’t want to let her go. “We will see each other often, right?”

  Dipping my chin, I keep my gaze on hers. “I am only a plane ride away from you, and you are just a plane ride away from me. Anytime, day or night, call and I’ll be here or charter you to Moscow.”

  Tatyana’s tears finally fall, but her lips are in a giant beaming smile. She looks like a replica of her mother right now, and my heart squeezes inside of my chest. I have made so many mistakes in my life, so many, but making Tati was never one of them. She was the only thing I ever did right in this life.

  “Go to her, Papa,” she smiles.

  I nod, releasing her and turn toward the door. I scan the room for Kiska, finding her and giving her a long hug, a kiss, and a promise to talk very soon.

  “I love you,” she whispers against my ear. I hold her a little tighter, soaking up all of her sweet little girl love and whisper back.

  “I love you, Kiska. More than you could know is possible.”

  A few minutes later, I find myself outside and standing next to my car. Reaching for my phone, I call my pilot requesting he and my plane be ready to go within an hour’s time. Racing toward the hotel that I have called my own the past couple of weeks, I rush upstairs and throw my shit into a bag.

  Once I’m packed, I call a shestyorka to take me to the private airport. The man is already waiting for me at the front of the hotel when I arrive downstairs. He was probably at the wedding as security and I’ve pulled him away. I should feel bad, but if I know Kirill at all, he hired extra security and he can spare this one man for an hour or so.

  I Instruct him on which airport as soon as I slide into the backseat of the car. The ride is silent, and I’m grateful for it. My mind is suddenly consumed with Raisa. Not that I haven’t thought about her since I’ve been gone, but now she’s all I can think about.

  I’ve been an absolute fuck to her. Ignoring her the way I did, it means that I’m going to have some serious shit to wade through. I’m man enough to know that I made a grave mistake. While thinking of only myself and my fucked up shit, I haven’t been doing what I’m supposed to as a master. I haven’t been focusing on her or her well-being.

  Niko was right to call me on my shit, whether I wanted to hear it or not. I’ve fucked up completely. Once the car is parked, I exit the backseat and grab my own luggage from the trunk. I want to get back to Moscow as soon as possible. I do not want to wait for shit like my fucking luggage.

  Raisa waits for me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  SERGEI

  The flight feels like it takes a goddamn lifetime. I swear years come off of my life as I wait. I was going to call Niko, maybe Panya, and warn them of my arrival, but I decided against it. Surprising Raisa would be better, maybe we can go out together. Maybe to dinner, talk a little, then to Katrina’s club if she’s willing to play.

  A date.

  I shake my head at the thought, as the plane lands. I doubt Raisa will be feeling up to going to the club. Thinking of Katrina, I decide to give her a call once the plane lands. I start to make a mental list of all the things I should do immediately upon landing.

  I need to make sure she and her girls are okay. I’ve also put her on the backburner, killing her girl then leaving. I need to touch base with Vladimir again, as well. I assume he’s found Zakhar and dealt with him. He’s proficient at his job, and Zakhar isn’t very bright. I can’t imagine he could hide for long from Vlad, no matter how much money he has.

  Powering my cell back on, it immediately alerts with a message from Nikolai. I frown when I pull it out of my pocket to check. There’s a video he’s texted to me, it doesn’t seem right. Why would he send me a video? I almost don’t click on it, assuming it to be some kind of virus, but my curiosity gets the better of me.

  Clicking on the play button, my entire body locks up at the sight that greets me. It’s Raisa, my Raisa. She’s naked, save for my collar and cuffs. She’s beautiful, but when my eyes find hers, I see that she’s got a funny expression on her face, a wild look. Shifting my gaze from her, it only takes me a second to recognize that look as fear.

  Shvernik has a sinister smile on his lips as he pulls her around by his hand, which is fisted in the hair on the top of her head. “Tell him who your master is, slave,” his voice growls through the phone’s speaker.

  Raisa’s eyes look watery, and then they go completely vacant. She’s locked herself somewhere deep inside and I’m glad for it. Exiting the video, I can’t watch another second. I don’t know where Nikolai or where Panya are, but I know that video was taken in my apartment’s living room.

  Pulling up my contacts I make a couple of calls. One to Vladimir, who promises to meet me at the entrance in minutes. A few more to a couple of Brigadier’s around the city, asking for their men, immediately.

  I know that by the time I race to my building I’ll have an entire army waiting for me, waiting for my orders. The problem is, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I’ll be walking into, if they’re still there, or if they’re gone. If Raisa, Niko, and Panya are alive, or if they’re dead and the fucking bullshit of it all? It’s my goddamn fault. All of it.

  I walk over to the car that’s parked at the airport. It isn’t mine, Nikolai would be here if he could to pick me up. But I know that it’s a Bratva car. It takes me only a second to find the key fob that’s attached to a magnet beneath the rear wheel well.

 
; Unlocking the car, I slip into the driver’s seat and slam the fob into its holder and press the start button. I miss the days when you could slam your key into the ignition, twist it, and take the fuck off. It takes me a few minutes to get reversed and on the road toward the apartment building.

  I’m focused, on a mission to get to Raisa. If she’s hurt, if she’s been taken from me, I don’t know what I’ll do. That’s a lie, I know what I’ll do. I’ll find fucking Zakhar and I’ll torture him. I’ll take pleasure in making him cry, and I’ll keep him alive for much longer than I should, just to prolong that torture.

  The apartment comes into view and I let out a sigh of relief when I see my men gathered around the entrance. The doorman is standing amongst them and I’m surprised to see he has blood trickling down his forehead. I’m not happy he’s been hurt, but the fact that it’s still fresh means that all of this shit has happened recently, hopefully, and that there’s a chance at getting Raisa, Niko, and Panya out of there alive.

  Parking my car haphazardly against the curb, I quickly exit and jog toward the group. “What happened?’ I demand as soon as I walk up to them.

  “He doesn’t remember, boss,” one man says, standing next to the doorman.

  I shift my gaze from him to the doorman. He looks at me, blood slowly dripping down his temple. “I tried to stop them, sir. One came at me from behind, the other from the side, and then I saw him taking Miss Raisa out of the building. I couldn’t stop them.”

  My heart stops beating inside of my chest at his words. Taking Raisa out of the building.

  “Where is the doorman who was here when they arrived then?” Vladimir asks. I hadn’t heard him walk up, which shouldn’t surprise me because he’s fucking stealthy, which is why he’s the best Torpedo we have.

  “He…” The current doorman pauses. “He wasn’t here when I arrived. I figured he saw me coming, slipped out. He does that sometimes. I didn’t really think anything of it.”

  I tuck that information into my back pocket, with a note to myself to find that fucker who has been leaving my building unattended and get rid of him, if he’s still breathing. My men will do as I expect, and that means my building, where my woman is shall be watched twenty-four seven. Obviously, I was a fool to think this building was secure.

  Lifting my chin to Vladimir and motioning to both of my Brigadiers, I point toward the elevator. “Canvas the area, inside and out, we’re going up to the apartment.”

  Walking away from the group, I expect the three men to follow me, and they do. The others will do as I say as well. I wish I didn’t have to take the elevator but my apartment is on the penthouse floor and there is no way we could walk up there.

  “We will figure it all out, boss,” one of the Brigadiers murmurs as the elevator car doors close.

  I dip my chin. “We will,” I grind out. I’m not angry at them, I’m angry at my fucking self.

  “Good news is, if he took her, then he’s probably taken her back to his home. Which I have surrounded and already being invaded by our men,” Vladimir informs me.

  I let out a breath, a bit of relief amongst the chaos for the moment. He’s right. If Zakhar takes Raisa back to his home, they’ll be spotted and stopped immediately. Zakhar will not make it to the end of this day alive. He can go fuck himself. He’s a dead man walking.

  The elevator doors open and we walk out, swiftly making our way toward the apartment door. I turn the handle before I try my key and find the door as I expected, unlocked. I hold my breath, afraid of the carnage that assuredly awaits me in this room.

  I’m surprised when I find both Nikolai and Panya, tied to chairs, and breathing. Fucking breathing. Other than a black eye that Nikolai is sporting, they look unharmed.

  “What in the fuck?” I ask walking closer to them.

  Nikolai lifts his gaze to me and he winces. “They snuck up on us, Sergei. We were on the balcony, eating breakfast,” he quickly explains.

  The two Brigadiers quickly untie them while I cross my arms over my chest and spread my legs wide. I tell myself again that I’m not angry, not at Nikolai, not at anyone but myself. Just me. Because all of this rests on my shoulders. Me. Me. Me. It’s my fault.

  “Sergei,” Nikolai rasps. He stumbles toward me and I uncross my arms, wrapping my fingers around his shoulder to steady him.

  Shaking my head, I level him with a gaze. “Just tell me what you know. Give me everything, then I’m going to have you taken to your wife,” I murmur.

  He gulps, shaking his head. “No, I will help you get her back. She was my charge and I fucked it all up. I should have had the place better secured, more men,” he rambles.

  I shake his shoulder roughly a few times, he finally stops talking and looks up at me. He’s probably scared that I’m going to end him. I wouldn’t. Not for this, not for something that is one hundred percent on me. I didn’t take his warnings to heart. I didn’t take the fact that Zakhar had disappeared to heart. I got goddamn lazy, self-absorbed, and fucking indecisive. My own actions, all of my own shit could cost me the woman I love.

  “Not. Your. Fault,” I grind out. “It is on me, Nikolai, nobody else. Me.”

  He shakes his head, but I narrow my gaze on him which shuts him up. “He didn’t say where he was taking her. He did say that he didn’t know when you would be home, but Raisa would be completely ruined by the time you arrived. He doesn’t expect you this soon. He wants to play, with her, and with you. He’s in this for the long haul,” he quickly says.

  “She is strong, Sergei. But in that strength, she is not unbreakable. She left here resigned that her life with him would be short-lived. I could see it in her pretty, but dead, blue eyes,” Panya announces as she stands and turns to face me.

  Lifting my chin in her direction, I speak, “She will not be broken. I will bring her home to you, Panya.”

  “You fucking better, or you are not the man I thought you were.”

  I give instructions for one of the Brigadiers to take Nikolai to his wife, under his own protest. I’m the boss, so fuck him. Then I have another Brigadier stay with Panya, and instruct him to call in a doctor to ensure that she is okay. The rest of the men, save for a few to guard the building, are going with Vladimir and me to Zakhar’s home.

  RAISA

  Evgen drives past the property. He doesn’t pull in like I anticipate, he continues on and that makes my heart jump into my throat. Something is wrong, something is very very wrong.

  “What the fuck, Evgen?” Zakhar shouts, his fingers twisting in my hair even tighter with his annoyance.

  I’m on my knees in the back of the car, the carpeting rough against my flesh. I know for a fact that I’ll have marks on them before I even leave this car. I’m sure Zakhar will relish in that, though, as he always does with any pain he purposely or inadvertently inflicts on me.

  Evgen clears his throat. “I saw a man at the door, he didn’t look like ours,” he mutters.

  Zakhar snorts, leaning forward. “Oh, I’m sure it was Sergei’s men. Who gives a fuck, they won’t be expecting us. Let’s kill some Bratva tonight,” he sneers.

  Evgen stays silent, slowly pulling around to the back of the estate and entering through the servant’s entrance. I only know that it’s a servant’s entrance because I was allowed a small window in my room and this is what it faced.

  I want to ask him where Lusha is since I doubt she is here. I don’t though. I know if I attempt to ask any questions he’ll hurt me. I’m already tender from the session we had while Evgen filmed for Sergei’s viewing pleasure.

  Closing my eyes, I think about that, about doing what I did with Zakhar in front of that phone. Knowing for a fact that it was to be sent to Sergei. I hope that he can forgive me.

  “We’re home, slave,” Zakhar grinds out.

  He moves, and I attempt to suck in a deep breath before he yanks me by the hair out of the car. I bite the inside of my cheek trying to hold back my whimper as he drags me across the gravel rock pathway that l
eads to the back of the house.

  “See, Evgen. They’re fucking stupid,” Zakhar laughs.

  We walk into the kitchen a moment later and I suck in a breath. There is something wrong. It’s deathly quiet, still, and I know nothing good can come from this feeling. Evgen clears his throat, but Zakhar ignores him. He turns me toward the basement door and I try to even out my breaths, so I don’t pass out. I never, not ever, want to go down there again.

  Zakhar freezes and I hear a noise. There is talking, male chatter and it has all three of us stock still. “Well, grandson, look what the cat dragged in,” a deep voice grumbles.

  Zakhar slowly turns around, keeping his fist in my hair as he does. “Grandfather. To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks.

  Lifting my gaze to the man in front of me, I’m surprised that I’ve never seen him before. I can tell by his hungry gaze as it roams over me that he shares the same kinks as both Zakhar and Sergei. To what extent I’m not sure, but his eyes catch my collar and they practically glitter.

  “She isn’t yours to have anymore, son. And please, tell me where the ever so sweet Lusha is,” he says, lifting a brow.

  Zakhar barks out a harsh laugh, it hurts my ears it’s so sharp as it bounces off the walls in the kitchen. “This slave has been mine for a decade, grandfather. I didn’t give her up, she was stolen from me. She is very much still mine. Lusha, sweet Lusha. She’s in the trunk of my car,” he laughs again. “Evgen can go get her for you if you’re in the mood to play. She is, however, mine too. Sergei promised some kind of deal to get her back, but as usual, he just kind of vanished.”

  “I wouldn’t make an enemy of Sergei Orlov, my grandson. This would certainly do that. I cannot protect you or save you from him,” he states.

  I don’t see the expression on Zakhar’s face, though I wish that I could. He makes a grunting noise. “I don’t need your protection, grandfather,” he spits.