Owned by the Badman (Russian Bratva #1) (22 page)

Unfortunately, I am broken right now and only this man can fix me.

I pray he comes back to me before I am completely destroyed.

The days come and go, all in a blur. I drink heavily as Gregori and I try to find the people we need, to end this mission, this self-imposed mission of ours.

My new
Pakhan—boss
—is much colder and harsher than Pasha ever was. He requires me to do much dirtier work, things I haven’t had to execute myself, since I was a young warrior just starting out.

I cannot even count the number of people I have tortured and killed—the number of women I have killed for being traitors in the short months I have been back in Moscow. As I slit the throats of these people, I feel nothing but emptiness.

I
miss
my wife.

I
want
my baby in my arms.

I
want
the life I
built
for myself
back
.

The worst was when I had to kill a child of a rival as a warning. I could only look at the boy and think of my own child. My nameless, faceless child. I hadn’t killed a child in so long, since I was one myself.

I cried as I held the dead child in my arms. How cold and cruel this life of mine is that I could even stomach killing a harmless child for war, as a warning. It sickens me.

Pasha has not contacted me again, and I know by this time, my child has come into this world.

Will I ever know what I had? His or her name?

I have come to terms that I have lost my Haleigh forever.
Is it Dimitri that holds her at night?
The thought makes me sick and angry, so I drink more.

“You need to call Dimitri,” Gregori mutters as we round the corner of the apartment, looking for a brown-haired, blue-eyed beauty. We have found many, but none has been—
her
.

“
Nyet
,” I clip. He tells me this at least twice a week.
I never listen.

“His is good man, Dimitri, he will take care of her and the child.”

I come very close to shooting the bastard in the head, but I do not. As the weeks drag on, I have become less tolerant of Gregori, of his advice and his continued disappearances. He is not everything he claims to be, and I feel as though he is leading me around in circles. I refuse to be led on for much longer.

This mission must end for my own sanity, if nothing else. Am I a man if I give up? I do not know. Things are not adding up with him, and I am becoming suspicious, but I cannot show it. If he suspects I am, even a little bit, he will change tactics. Gregori is extremely intelligent, and I do not put anything past him.

Together, we walk into a small room and my eyes and body instantly recognize the girl in the corner—it is her.

Mariya
.

She is as beautiful as she was the last time I saw her, at only six years old, when she was ripped from me. Taken by the same people who had Haleigh taken from me. I have never been brave enough to look for her until Haleigh had been taken. I need to right my wrongs in this world before I can accept myself, my life, and hopefully, my wife. I needed to find this woman.

My sister.

She looks a bit too thin, but she looks healthy. I drop to my knees, whispering her name, and her eyes open before her mouth goes wide. I cover it with my hand.

“It is your brother; it is Maxim. I have come to rescue you.” She narrows her eyes at me. When I release her, she speaks.

“I do not want you here. I know who you work for, I know who you are, and I do not want you.”

She sounds so angry,
so bitter.
I have only come here to save her. I do not blame her. I know nothing of the hells she has endured over the years.

“Mariya, what is this?” I ask. She shakes her head, tears falling from her eyes.

“I was taken and horrible things were done to me, Maxim. It is true, you could not imagine. But a man, he fell in love with me. He is married, so I stay here. He is good man. He takes care of me,” she says in an almost pleading manner. I really look at my sister. The apartment isn’t as shitty as most we have been in, but it isn’t the best either.

“I have money, Mariya. I take care of you, forever,” I offer. She gapes at me, her eyes wide and her mouth open.

“I…” She hesitates, and I grab her hands and look into her eyes.

“Let me do this for you. I take you and I take care
of
you, as I always should have been able to do. As I should have done many years ago.”

Mariya’s eyes dart around, looking for answers. They shine with tears, and then,
finally
, she nods. I throw her over my shoulder and we run. I don’t give her a second to rethink her decision. Thoughts of my child, of Haleigh, and of Dimitri vanish for the moment.

I have found my sister, and my current duty is to her care.

“I have a line on the other issue. I will take care of it. You care for Mariya, and I will let you know,” Gregori says before he walks out, without allowing me to even ask any questions.

It is suspicious that this
line
has happened all of a sudden, now that I have found Mariya. Something is not right, but I cannot dig deeper into his stories. I have Mariya to think about. I will not let her down again. I refuse.

Guilt swims throughout my body as I think about the things my sister has suffered. I should have come for her years ago. My guilt for Haleigh’s mistreatment sent me on this mission to right wrongs, but I should have done this long ago. I hate myself for waiting all this time.

“What now?” Mariya asks, eating some bread and cheese.

I close my eyes and images of Haleigh and a nameless, faceless baby crosses my mind.

I want to go home to my wife.

“Would you like to live here or America?” I ask, hoping she says Russia.

Mariya doesn’t even think before she answers,
America
… of course. I pick up my phone and call my current
Pakhan
. I hate that I have to request time off from him, but it is what it is. I fucked up my own life, and this is the consequence.

Once my vacation has been approved, I call the man I have been dreading speaking to again. He called me for a while and eventually stopped when I refused to return the calls.

“Dimitri,” he says distractedly. I can hear the cries of a baby in the background, and it makes my heart break.

“
Sladkiy
, take baby in the other room this is business, yeah?” he says to who I know must be Haleigh.

I see red at the word,
honey
, thrown around as if it is comfortable.

I want to kill Dimitri.

I want to
cut
him.

Gut
him.

Pull out his insides and spread them around the bedroom that he surely fucks my wife in.

“Maxim, is that you?” He has switched to Russian, and I confirm that it is indeed, me. I hope that his cock shrivels at the sound of my voice.

“I have found my sister, Mariya. She wishes to reside in America, so I will be bringing her tomorrow to live at the house. I will only be staying for two weeks before I must return to Moscow,”
I state.

Dimitri clears his throat.

“Have you finished your vendetta then?” he asks. All I want to do is strangle him, fucking kill him—
with my bare hands.

“It is finished,” I clip.

“Then why do you go back? Haleigh will be glad to have you back here, Maxim, and you will want to spend time with the baby, no?”

“
Nyet
, I no longer work for Pasha. My new
Pakhan
is here in Moscow
,
” I say, grinding my teeth together as Dimitri clears his throat.

“Pasha will have you back, Maxim, and I will gladly step down and assume my original position. Do not be a stubborn fool. Think of your family,” he urges.

I hang up on him, not wanting to hear anymore of his bullshit.

He fucks my wife and tries to play friend.

Fuck him.

I trust not a single person any longer in this world. Once I called Dimitri my friend, same with Gregori, but not anymore. Dimitri fucks my wife, takes her as mistress, as
blyad,
and tries to push her back into my arms. He has a game; what it is I do not know.

Gregori is full of secrets and playing some sort of game of his own. I will find it out soon. The only person I can trust is myself. I close my eyes for a moment, willing the ache in my head to disappear. I also ignore the aching in my chest as I call and make private flight arrangements.

“We have one hour before takeoff, we go,” I bark. Mariya, wisely, doesn’t say a word. It is smart of her.

The city is dark, the car is waiting for me as I instructed, and inside, the
Byki –bodyguard—
is waiting to drive me home. I have not been to the place in over a year.
Will it have changed at all?

I would not imagine Haleigh would care to change it too much, but perhaps, I am wrong. Perhaps, she will have wanted to replace anything that reminded her of me. It is what I would do if she left me the way I abandoned her.

“You will meet Dimitri and Haleigh when we arrive at the estate. Haleigh is the lady of the house, and I will not tolerate any disrespect of her or her child. Dimitri is her guard, probably her lover as well. You will respect him. They will not tell you what to do or how to do it, but you will be kind to them. The house may be mine, but they reside in it and they control the happenings. Haleigh does not speak Russian but Dimitri does,” I say unable to look at my sister.

Mariya nods but eyes me cautiously before asking me a question.

“Haleigh is your woman, then? Your mistress?” she asks curiously. It pains me to answer this question, but my sister will know the true answer soon enough, as I am sure it will be mentioned.

“Haleigh is my wife. Mrs. Lasovska, and before you ask, the baby is mine.”

I can tell that Mariya has no clue how to handle this information because she goes silent. It worries me. Does she think me less of a man because I just admitted my wife probably has a lover in my own home? Does she realize that I abandoned my own family out of fear?
I am a worthless man.

We arrive at the house, and everything is exactly as I left it
. I knock—how foreign a feeling to knock at your own home
. Mariya is at my side when my breath is stolen from my body as the door opens and my beautiful Haleigh is standing before me, absolutely gorgeous, holding a squirming child in her arms. A boy, dressed in overalls, and a little shirt underneath.

“Maxim,” she whispers her eyes filling with tears as she takes me in.

I wonder what she sees.

Does she see an alcoholic?

A broken man who cannot even look at another woman because his wife is the only person he wants?

“Haleigh, this Mariya,” I say gruffly, trying to keep from crying like a woman at the sight of my beautiful wife’s face. Her eyes go wide, and she cannot hide her hurt—
did Dimitri tell her nothing?

“Please, come in,” she says softly, turning to walk inside of the room.

“Just let me put Maksimilyan down in his bouncer, and I will find Dimitri. I am sure you want to see him,” she mutters. My head pounds.

The name she has given our child, a name similar to mine, Maksimilyan Lasovska, so very Russian. It is as if she knew my heart when she named him such a strong name.
I love it.