Deadly (Born Bratva Book 5) (11 page)

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Authors: Suzanne Steele

Chapter Seventeen

Roksana

I’m excited about seeing what’s in those black jewelry bags. I’m even more excited about presenting them to my father. This is going to be a good start to going into the diamond business. Oleg took a quick look in the bags and confirmed the gems aren’t watermarked, so they’re virtually untraceable. He spent a lot of time looking through the larger of the two bags. When he closed the bag, he looked like he’d seen a ghost and simply said our next stop would be the Pakhan’s office. So here we are.

I turn and look at my partners. “Are you ready?”

Oleg’s only response is to lift the black bags and tilt his chin toward my father’s office door. I knock on the door before I lose my nerve. Even though we pulled off the heist without killing anyone, I don’t know how my father will react. He’s impossible to read.

I grew up around hardcore mafia soldiers and most have to present an implacable façade to hide their emotions, something artificial that serves a short-term purpose. But my father isn’t a ‘fake it until you make it’ kind of man. My grandfather trained his son to be ruthless; to face any decision, any negotiation, any betrayal, on his own terms. The Pakhan couldn’t be anything other than what he is, even if he wanted to.

Yafon opens the door and gestures for us to enter. My father looks up from his laptop, frowning as he leans back in his chair. Novak, as usual, smirks sardonically from his seat.

“Father, I don’t want you to get mad,” I blurt out, my words rolling over each other as they tumble out of my mouth. “I’ve done something that will help pave the way for the diamond business.”

Novak pauses in his perpetual twirling of the large Russian coin, shaking his head. “Damn, never a dull moment with these guys.”

Oleg jumps to my defense. He gives Novak a dirty look before addressing my father. “It was my idea, sir. We wanted to give you a gift, a new beginning in your business.”

Novak isn’t finished being a smart ass. “Aww, a dowry. How sweet. But isn’t that usually the woman’s part of the deal?”

“Maybe if you did something besides fondle that fucking coin…”

“Oh, I do plenty. I’m the motherfucker that will put a knife in anybody’s heart that gets too close to my boss. Lighten up, Oleg, you’re always so serious.”

“I’m losing my patience,
children
,” Father says as he looks between Novak and Oleg. He gestures with two fingers for Oleg to give him the black felt bags. Oleg approaches the desk and places the two velvet bags next to the laptop. Father hefts first one bag, then the other, in his hand. As he tests the weight of the larger of the two jewelry bags, he frowns, very much like Oleg did when he had looked inside.

Father up-ends the larger bag and I gasp as the bag’s contents tumble onto the table in a gorgeous, sparkling heap. My father stills, placing his hands flat on the desk on either side of the gems, his attention riveted by his glittering prize.

Almost reverently, he holds up the largest of the gems, an enormous, pear-shaped blue diamond. As the light glints off its many facets, he looks to Novak and draws a deep, satisfied breath.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Novak jumps up from his seat, his coin momentarily forgotten.

“The Tereschenko diamond. This…is a good omen,” he declares with a nod.

“What’s that?” I have no idea what these two are talking about.

Father turns toward me so I can get a closer look. There, perched between his thumb and forefinger, is the most spectacular diamond I’ve ever seen. A blue diamond. I didn’t even know such a thing existed. I’m no expert, but the thing has got to be nearly 50 carats.

“The Tereschenko diamond,” he repeats absently as the blue stone catches the light, creating a stunning canvas of blue prisms along the wall. “Smuggled out of Russia just before the Russian revolution in 1916.” A rare smile touches his lips as he murmurs, “It has found its way back into Russian hands, where it belongs.”

“We have the papers on it too.” Oleg reaches into his jacket for the documents we took from the safe.

“Yes, this is a good omen,” Father says as he rises to his feet, “not only for our new business but for your marriage.” He pauses as if something just occurred to him, and asks with a sigh, “Did you kill anyone?”

“No,” I replied. “We put the two security guards down with Special K so they shouldn’t remember ever seeing us. Oleg said to leave them alive, and that with them unable to offer an explanation of why the diamonds are missing, their boss will suspect them of being involved in the heist.”

“Oleg is right, that is indeed exactly what will happen. We don’t have to kill them off; they will do it for us. Once the seed of distrust has been planted, their group is sure to implode.

“Now, looking ahead. We will sell to carefully screened large buyers but I also want to maintain a small, exclusive presence here at home. Meaningless to our bottom line, but it will be seen as a positive move in the community. Our clients will be only by appointment. Background checks on everyone. I want you to work with Jake and see how the plans for the jewelry store are progressing.”

My curiosity prompts me to ask my next question. “That blue diamond is going to draw a lot of attention, probably some unwanted attention. What are you going to do with it?”

“I am not sure,” he muses as he holds the stone up and turns it this way and that in the light. “This diamond has quite a history. It has been the source of great drama over the years. Perhaps it, too, is on the verge of a new chapter in its history. The Tereschenko diamond has come home; it will bring blessings and protection to our family and to our cell.”

If my father says there’s a blessing to be had in the Tereschenko diamond, you can be sure there is. I’ll take all the protection I can get because Oleg and I have no intention of slowing down any time soon.

Chapter Eighteen

Anastasia

Although Jackson Mathews, better known as Jake, seems like a typical citizen, he is anything but. I’ve heard all about his story from Roksana, and quite a story it is. Glazov brought him into the Bratva organization after he saved Ivan’s nephew from being killed during an attack in an alley. Jake saved a Bratva life that night by being in the right place at the right time and making the right decision.

But not everyone viewed Jake as a good Samaritan, so he needed some help dealing with a new slate of enemies. Lucky for him, in Bratva the saying
‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend’
holds true. Glazov was impressed with Jake’s fearlessness, and he’s been Bratva ever since. Of course, the Pakhan’s invitations are rarely declined, but Jake didn’t need to be persuaded.

Maybe Glazov is right, maybe destiny and fate do play a part in the universe, putting us where we need to be. My Bratva journey may be unorthodox, but that doesn’t matter. I plan on staying close to Roksana so some of that good mojo will rub off on me.

Jake’s voice cuts through my thoughts as we enter his office. “Oleg, sit, please. Have some coffee with me.”

“Sounds good,” Oleg replies. “We can go over the blueprints for the security updates. My woman has a real talent for reading blueprints. Don’t you,
devotchka
?”

I do my best to smother a laugh when Roksana strolls by him and sing-songs, “Fuck you, Oleg.”

“I’m counting on it,” he says smoothly, “just as soon as I can get you alone. Unless, of course, you’d like me to take you here and now.”

Jake seems completely unaware of their banter, his attention laser beam focused on the matter at hand. “The Pakhan’s specifications for security are cutting-edge; there’s still much to be done but we’re off to a good start.” He turns to me, extending his hand in greeting. “And this must be the infamous Anastasia. I’m Jake. Welcome.”

“Thank you,” I reply, pleasantly surprised by his gracious greeting. “It’s good to be here.”

He nods and smiles. “I completely understand. The Pakhan has been good to me and my family. He even set my daughter up with her own beauty salon. Maybe sometime you can visit her, have your hair done,” he says, then frowns. “Of course, not that you need it; you’re quite beautiful.”

“And you’re very kind.”

My response seems to have relieved the poor man of any embarrassment. Jake shares the one thing that all of Glazov’s Bratva ‘converts’ do: a sense of indebtedness and gratitude.

Glazov may be a monster in some people’s eyes, but to those of us he has chosen to bring into the Bratva fold? He’s a savior.

Chapter Nineteen

Roksana

“Not so mouthy now, are you?” Oleg’s voice is laced with threats and malice. His hand around my throat and the look in his eye are enough to send me over the edge, but he’s just getting started. “I never tire of trying to tame you,
devotchka
. You are fire and I am ice.”

“Cold doesn’t even begin to describe you, Oleg. You’re closed off to everything and everyone but me. You know it and I know it, and so does everyone else around here.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Nobody else knows me; only you.” His lips trail down my neck, nipping in all the right places as his hands wander my bare curves. “And I know you too. I know every nerve ending in your body. I know how to give you pain and pleasure. I know how to blend the two until they bleed together and you can no longer tell where one ends and the other begins.”

His teeth clamp down on a nipple just hard enough to make my eyes water. He laves the peak with his tongue, sending spirals of pleasure down my spine just to prove his point.

His naked body presses into my upper thigh. I spread my legs in an effort to guide his cock where I want it to go.

“Ask for what you want,” he whispers against my lips, his voice smooth as silk. He’s a man who needs to be in control and that need is nowhere more obvious than in the bedroom. I practically purr as I give him what I know he wants.

“What I want is your big…thick…cock…buried in my sweet, tight pussy.”

“Such a nasty girl,” he growls, dragging his fingertips over my inner thigh.

“Yeah, well, I learned all about dirty talking from you.”

“And I taught you well.”

He hooks my knee over his elbow and presses his cock slowly, inexorably inside me, never taking his eyes off mine. Those dead eyes of his are lit from within as he moves inside me, the connection between us going so much deeper than mere fucking.

“Thanks for doing the diamond job with me, baby,” I gasp as the head of his cock rubs a particularly sensitive spot inside me.

“You’re welcome,” he pants against my neck as he slides his hand over my breast. “While we’re being all polite here, thank you for the ink on the back of your neck. I like it. You’re a marked woman—the marked woman of a made man.”

“I like having your name on my skin for all to see.”

“You bear my name on your neck, yes, but what is it going to take for you to bear my name as my wife?” he groans against my neck on a particularly violent downward thrust that steals my breath.

“Oleg…”

“Tell me!” he demands.

“I…I don’t know, alright? Isn’t it enough to know that the die has been cast, that it has been decreed that I’m yours? You claimed me and that’s enough for me. Why can’t it be enough for you?”

“’Never be enough…” he grunts, his breathing labored and uneven as he swivels his hips in a deep curve that hits me just right, the sensations almost more than I can bear. Recognizing that his cock has found my sweet spot, he holds the position and braces his weight on his forearm. Wrapping his other hand around my neck, he practically jackhammers into my pussy at a punishing pace, his skin glistening with sweat as his facial muscles clench in pleasure.

My face heats and my core ripples as the length of his erection rubs against my slick inner walls, hinting at an orgasm that promises to be mind-bending. As I pant and thrust my hips up to meet his, the sensations build until my climax starts swirling deep in my core.

I can’t think straight as the orgasm takes hold, disjointed words and phrases tumbling from my lips like a fountain. “Being marked by you, feels so good…No one else...Take me, mark me
now
…make me yours…”

“You
are
mine. All that you are belongs to me,” he says harshly. He grips my neck and jaw, forcing me to look him in the eye as he comes, his hips jerking on every pulse of his cock against my womb. “I am…not…a patient man.”

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