Seducing the Badman (Russian Bratva #2) (22 page)

Kirill’s dark hair is a bit long, but slicked back; he has a full beard and he’s thin. He’s wearing cargo pants and a bullet proof vest, much like we are. He’s in charge, and not one man standing at his back will question him. I see it in their eyes, but also in his.

“Baryshev,” Radimir and I say at the same time.

“Did I bring enough men to smoke the fuckers out?” he asks, chuckling.

I grin and Radimir smiles widely. Though he looks exhausted, the obvious future victory lightens his mind a bit.

“Let’s get the women and fuck those assholes up,” I offer, making both Kirill and Radimir laugh.

Kirill walks over to an SUV and opens the back hatch. It is full of guns, all different calibers and all big, black, and beautiful. I watch as he begins handing them out to his men and then to ours. He doesn’t hand Radimir and I the big powerful guns; instead, he places small silver hand guns in each of our hands. They are lightweight, and they leave me absolutely speechless. I want ten just like them. They are powerful, their sleekness a thing of magnificence.

“From my personal collection. You are not soldiers; you do not use soldiers’ guns. You are
brigadier’s
Let’s go.” He lifts his chin and all of the men begin to pile into the SUV’s.

I am hungry – hungry for blood.

For the blood of a fucking traitor pussy.

That piece of shit is fucking mine.

I wake with my heart racing, threatening to leap out of my throat. It is beating so rapidly and hard.

Something is not right.

I can feel it.

It must be early in the morning, because the sun is not shining through the blinds yet. I look over to Ashley, who is curled into a ball on the floor, whimpering. She has been this way since her shower, after spending her evening downstairs,
somewhere
.

We didn’t speak.

I didn’t ask her what happened and she didn’t ask me. Although, I have a feeling that she was more than just displayed and groped. I am certain that she was violated in ways I could never imagine.

I place my hand on her bicep and squeeze as she cries out, tears falling from her eyes in sleep. I will not wake her, and I will not ask her about the horrors she has suffered, but I will be her friend.

I study her pretty young face.

My brother loves her.

I am sure of it.

I saw how devastated and broken he was when she disappeared. Originally, I thought that perhaps she ran—maybe to start over, maybe to her family, wherever they are. Knowing her now, Yakov was right. She wouldn’t have run from him. Just the sound of his name brings a smile to her lips and a twinkle to her cloudy eyes
. They are meant for each other.

“Why are you awake? You should get as much rest as possible,” she says, her voice deep with sleep.

“I have a bad feeling,” I mutter. She opens her eyes to look at me.

“I have had a bad feeling for a while,” she deadpans. I almost want to laugh. If this wasn’t so serious, I might.

“We will not survive this place if we do not get out,” I say.

“I know,” she whispers, sucking in her bottom lip.

“Are you hurt too badly?” I chance asking, not wanting to go into details.

“My ass hurts so bad,” she admits as red creeps up her cheeks in obvious embarrassment.

“We will survive and we will be free again,” I murmur.

Ashley slides her eyes over to me and smiles weakly. She doesn’t believe me, but I am determined. I do not want all those men to touch me ever again. If this is to be my life, I will struggle with Dimitri every step of the way. Even if freedom means that I aimlessly walk the streets here in South Africa, I will do it. He cannot win. I will not allow him to abuse me; I do not want to hurt like Ashley does. I was born a Chekova and I am now a Zaleskya. I will not go down without a fight.

In that plane on the way here, I survived
—now I will fight
.

The door slams open and my spine goes straight, a shiver running over my entire body. Dimitri is standing at the entrance, a look of pure hatred on his face. His eyes narrow on me, and then he walks straight to me, picking me up by my hair. I feel like the strands are going to rip out of my head. The pain slices through my entire body, but I do not show it.

To show fear or pain shows weakness, and I refuse to be weak a minute longer
.

“Time to start your training,
blyad
,” he sneers, dragging me out of the room. I can’t turn to look at Ashley, but I can hear her softly sobbing behind me.

Dimitri will not break me.

I will not go down without a fight.

He will have to kill me before I will whore myself out for him.

I will only whore myself out for one man.

The only man who deserves it.

My husband.

Penniless, homeless, and destitute sounds a hell of a lot better than spreading my legs to make this man rich. Yesterday, before I was strung up like some piece of meat, I thought I could handle being used by the men Dimitri sold me to. Today, after listening to the crying of Ashley all evening long, I know that I would not survive it. Perhaps I would be breathing, but inside I would be dead. I would rather be dead on the street then in this man’s house.

Dimitri drops me onto the hardwood floor in the living room, the place I was strung up last night—presented like meat to be ogled, touched, and grabbed by perverse strangers. My body feels as though it will forever remain bruised at this point. I ache all over, from sleeping on the hard floor, and the abuse at the hands of this psychopath.

“Strip,” he clips. I do not move. I will not surrender to him.
Ever
.

“Never,” I state, looking into his cold, dead eyes.

“Do it, or I let Dima and Sasha have at your body for the rest of the day.” He arches a brow, challenging me.

I stand, uncaring that his face doesn’t mask his anger at my defiance. Squaring my shoulders, I look deep into his eyes, his cold, dead eyes. I have to be strong. For myself. For Ashley.

“I submit to nobody but my husband, Dimitri. If you want me, you will have to take me by force, and I will fight until I die. I will not accept being violated ever again
. I am not weak
. I am Emiliya Ivana Chekova Zaleskya,” I announce, watching as his eyes go from cold and dead to surprised.

“You are not married to Radimir, you are just his whore,” he hisses.

I laugh. It is a false bravado, and I honestly want to curl up into a ball and cry, but I will not in front of this man.

“I am Mrs. Zaleskya. It has been all over the Russian news, Dimitri. Do you think my husband will just allow this? Even if you kill me, you will never stop him from coming for me, from finding you and killing you…
slowly
.”

“He doesn’t know where you are or who has you. He’ll never find out. Your brother can’t find his own whore, so I’m certain Radimir will not find you,” he grins, reaching for my neck and wrapping his hand around it,
squeezing
.

I don’t allow him the satisfaction of my struggles.

I want him to go ahead and end my life. It would be better to be dead than living through the horrified future he has informed me of.

“Fight,” he grinds out. I smirk—I refuse.

I refuse him and his sick fantasies.

I love Radimir. If to love him means sacrificing myself in death so that this traitor cannot use me against him, then I will. Rad holds my heart and he always will. I will not allow Dimitri to tear me apart piece-by-piece. Physically, I cannot overpower this man. It wouldn’t matter if I kicked and punched him. But he would not be satisfied in his new mission if I am dead. I’ll let his anger be at the forefront, and once I am gone, so is part of his sick revenge.

My fate accepted, I close my eyes and send a prayer out to Radimir.

I hope that he knows I fought the way I knew how.

I pray that he finds love.

I hope that he is happy.

I pray that he finds peace for the childhood he endured.

The world around me goes black, and I know that my time has come.

Maybe I will see my mother again.

A woman I only vaguely remember. A woman whose life was ended by my father—
for insubordination
. Another woman who refused to accept her fate and tried to fight back. Another woman who was brought to death by a cruel man.

It has been my destiny since my birth. Death by cruelty.

My breathing is shallow. I am trying to be as quiet as possible as we surround the home. It is set up in a suburban neighborhood, and the people surely have no idea what kind of hell happens here. I know, though. I have seen men ten times crueler than these cowards could ever dream of being.

I take a deep breath and look through one of the back windows into the home.
This place has shit security
. I wonder how on earth Dimitri could allow that. Maxim surely taught the man how to property secure a house.

“We go in in one minute,
together
,” Kirill breathes quietly. I nod, trying to stay silent.

I hear a bird chirp and I know it is the thirty second count down. There is no movement that I can see in the back part of the home, and that concerns me. It means we have no visual, and we are going in blind. Who knows what we will be walking into? I like to be prepared. I like to have a good idea of the outcome in a situation like this. I have no clue what will happen thirty seconds from now.
None at all.

Kirill lifts his chin and it is time to go. We burst through the house, the windows breaking with some of the men’s entrance, but Kirill and I break down the door and rush inside. The home seems empty, but I hear a thud from what I guess is the living area. I rush toward the direction of the sound and see Dimitri standing over a crumpled body. The body on the floor has black hair and I know that it is my
queen
.

“Moy chernovolosyy koroleva
,” I murmur, looking down at her, training my gun on Dimitri.

“Your raven haired queen is a dead, fucking whore,” Dimitri rumbles before he begins to laugh. My eyes snap to his.

“What is wrong with you? Why would you do this?” I ask, trying to keep the jumbled words in my head straight. The only thing I want to do is rush to Emiliya and hold her.

“The
Bratva
ruined Maryia, sold her when she was a child. Ivan sold her off after he fucked her up, and now you all pay. She used me, wouldn’t fuck me, but she was meant for me,” he rambles. It confuses me further.

“This is all because Maryia, who was abused her whole life, wouldn’t spread her legs for you?” I ask in shock.

“I sold that no good whore off to a sadist. Best decision I ever made—got Ivan out of the picture and the focus on him. I took Ashley to make Yakov suffer for his father’s fuck ups, and Emiliya I took because she had a high price on that pussy. Ivan had been promising that cunt, along with power and money, to just about every man of worth for a decade. Then he has a contract for one of his own men?
Bullshit
. He pissed off a lot of men with that move. A lot of men wanted that
printsessa
.”

My stomach lurches at his words. This has nothing to do with me. This has to do with hurting a dead man and retribution. I have my own retribution; but unlike this pussy in front of me, I will take it out on the man who deserves it.

“Where are Sasha and Dima?” I growl, ignoring his fucked up speech.

“Around,” he smirks, as if hiding a secret from me.

Seconds later, four of Kirill’s men bring Sasha and Dima into the room. I watch with satisfaction as Dimitri’s eyes go wide with shock. Yakov is following behind and walks straight over to me.

“Ashley is upstairs in a room, heavily guarded now by Kirill’s men, but I cannot find Emiliya,” he murmurs. I don’t answer him with words. Instead, I jerk my chin toward the pile on the floor. Emiliya has not moved.

“You killed my sister?” Yakov yells. Dimitri shrugs.

“Enough talking, no?” Kirill asks, speaking for the first time. I nod in agreement. I want to be done with talking and start torturing already.