Glazov's Legacy (Born Bratva Book 2) Page 4

  “Is everything okay, boss?” my hired cleaner asks me as I enter my office and close the door.

  I know she’s wondering why I’ve called her in. It will do her good to be kept on edge. Fear is such a wonderful tool when used as a weapon to maintain control. It’s also a wonderful aphrodisiac when it comes to fucking my wife’s brains out.

  It amazes me how beautiful Natasha is. She’s tall and thin, has short blonde hair, and her blue eyes are striking. She looks so fucking innocent, but we all know how looks can be deceiving. Though she is beautiful, she has no time for a significant other because she is so focused on her career. Working solely for me, she is frequently around my family, but even my eldest son’s advances go unnoticed. Nikita has been in love with her since childhood, but she won’t give him the time of day. Our families have a close friendship that goes back generations. Her father worked for me, and her father’s father worked for my grandfather. She, too, is born and bred Bratva.

  “Natasha, I want you at this gathering tonight.”

  “Yes, sir. Was everything okay on the last cleanup?”

  “It was okay enough to give you a bonus.”

  I open my drawer and grab the envelope that holds a twenty-five thousand dollar bonus for her. I note she doesn’t open it and look when I give it to her. I like that; it’s classy.

  “Your father would be proud of you, Natasha.”

  I don’t tell her, but nothing would please me more than seeing her with my son Nikita. It would be very good for business. Her Russian roots run deep, and her father and I were very close. We worked together for a long time before he was violently killed. I took her under my wing after that tragedy. Our ties go back generations, and she will be even more of an asset than she already is if she marries my eldest son. I know he will never give up on his pursuit of her, and it is only a matter of time before he wins her over. I don’t rush things because it humors me to watch her ignore his advances. Women usually fall all over themselves trying to gain my boy’s attention, but he doesn’t give them the time of day. He only has eyes for his childhood crush. There is a part of me that hopes they get together sooner rather than later. I’m certain restraining himself from having sex with other women has to be frustrating at his age. He refuses to sleep around, fearing it will ruin his chances with Natasha.

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir, but you didn’t have to do this.”

  She waves the envelope to indicate she is referring to the bonus.

  “It was my pleasure. You may go now, and I expect to see you at my home tonight at eight.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Kathleen

  I look in the mirror and scrutinize my reflection. I’ve chosen to wear Glazov’s favorite dress. It’s a simple red gown that dips low in the back, accentuating the solid back muscles I have worked so hard for in the gym. I pair it with diamond hoop earrings, and I fix my long red hair so it flows down my back in ringlets. There will be some very beautiful women here tonight, and even after twenty years of marriage, I still get jealous about the way women blatantly flirt with my husband. Some of the Bratva groupies are downright bold about the way they come on to him. Of course, he thinks it’s hilarious when I get jealous. He still laughs about the time I beat the shit out of one of his dealers at work. Needless to say, she doesn’t work there anymore. Word has gotten around over the years how possessive I can be. Now, if they do have a crush on him, they keep it on the down low. They tend to have more of a ‘look but don’t touch’ attitude, but even the looks bother me. I’m not the first crazy bitch who has gotten in a fight over a Bratva boy. Most of the other women have a reason to fight though; their husbands actually are fucking around on them. At least I don’t have that problem.

  I check my make-up one more time before I walk down the long hallway leading to the winding staircase. Our mansion is beautiful, filled with antiques and memories. I look at the family pictures that cover the wall at the top of the steps. The years have flown by, and all my kids are grown now.

  The air already buzzes with excitement as guests begin to arrive. My eyes immediately scan the room for my husband. Still, after all these years, anticipation lodges in my gut at the thought of seeing him. My unpredictable husband still excites me in ways no other man ever has.

  I make my entrance and begin to work the room. These are the people who have stood by us through all the drama that comes with being a Bratva family. Life, deaths, births, and incarcerations—through it all, we have stood together and had each other’s backs. Unlike many organized crime families, we take care of the women and children who are left behind when tragedy strikes.

  I approach my son Kodiak, who is standing in the shadows, possessively guarding the woman on his arm. My curiosity is more than a little piqued at his proprietary display.

  “Kodiak, she’s lovely,” I voice as I observe the brunette standing next to him.

  I watch as his eyes rake over her, and she blushes under his intense perusal.

  “Yes, she is. Mother, this is Logan. She just started working at Father’s gambling house as a dealer.”

  I note that his stare goes cold.

  “Father asked me to keep an eye on her, and that’s exactly what I’m doing—keeping a very close eye on her. Isn’t that right, Logan?”

  The poor girl blushes an even deeper shade of crimson before she answers.

  “Yes, ma’am, that is what he’s doing.”

  “The men in our family can be very intense, dear. Don’t let Kodiak scare you away.”

  “She’s not going anywhere… Are you, Logan?”

  “No, ma’am, I like my new job.”

  I know she is attempting to avoid the elephant in the room. Kodiak’s dominant nature is shining through in his possessive stare and the firm grip he has on the poor girl’s arm.

  “You’ll do fine, dear.”

  I pat her arm to reassure her before I walk away. I head toward the bathroom, never noticing Glazov following closely in my wake. In fact, until he pushes the door open, turns to lock it, and backs me into the sink, I’m not even aware he is in my personal space.

  “Glazov, is it necessary for you to stalk me so relentlessly after all these years?” I ask, rolling my eyes.

  “You’re damn straight it is.” He leans in close to my ear and growls, “I’m always watching you.”

  I squeeze past him to make my way over to the vanity mirror.

  “I don’t have time to be accosted by you. Our guest of honor should be arriving soon.”

  He comes up behind me, fists a handful of my hair, and jerks my head back while looking at my reflection in the mirror.

  “Our guest is already here. I picked him up from the airport. I’ll always be one step ahead of you, Ptichka, and don’t you ever fucking forget it.”

  I watch in the mirror as he releases me before making his way out the door. He’s made his presence known and has, once again, solidified that I am Bratva property—his Bratva property. Perhaps that is what my son is attempting to do with his new friend, Logan. Is he marking her as his by bringing her to a closed gathering? He could very well be letting the other men know that she is off limits. No one would dare approach the girl now that she has been seen with Kodiak. They are all afraid of him, as well they should be. Kodiak is as crazy as his father, and just like his father, he makes no attempts to hide it or be politically correct. He most certainly makes no apologies for his actions.

  Glazov

  I crook my finger in my wife’s direction as she exits the bathroom. I’d been watching the door from the moment I left her in there. She is never off my radar. My wife gives me something no one else can provide. My Ptichka is a relentless addiction coursing through my veins, and at all hours of the day, my body constantly craves another fix.

  Before I met her, I had been with women from all over the world. They played my kinky games just for the opportunity to be with me. They didn’t want me though; they just wanted what I could give
them. My wife is different. She hungers for the sadist residing inside me, so much a part of my makeup that it’s in the very marrow of my bones. She toys with him, purposely antagonizing him to come out, to play his games inflicting pleasurable pain.

  This is a woman who only has one only hard limit: we bring no one else into our playground of mayhem. Though she never knows what to expect from the beast she summons, she still rattles his cage and intentionally taunts him. I have always been able to incite fear in her, and she feeds off the adrenaline rush that fear induces. It may not be healthy, and some may even call it mutually destructive, but what we have is real because I’m not fucking playing.

  I watch as she saunters over to me, wearing a gown that melts over her body and accentuates every curve as it flows in sync with her gait. My wife is even more beautiful than the women here who are half her age. Eying her blood red lipstick, I can easily envision myself smearing it all over her porcelain complexion before we fuck later this evening. Ptichka hates it when I do that. She always tries to wipe it off and then glares at me in anger. I’ll grip her wrists tightly above her head with one hand and forbid her from cleaning it off her face. There’s nothing like a good angry fuck. My cock starts stiffening just thinking about the pain I have planned for her.

  I shift my thoughts as I hook my arm through hers to escort her through the horde of guests. Silence falls over the crowd as conversations cease. As we move forward, I call out for Novak and Katrina to join us at the front of the room.

  “I’ve called Novak in to work with my son Kodiak. Many of you already know him, but for those of you who don’t, he is my cousin. I expect all of you to make him and his wife feel welcome.”

  My gaze drifts in my son’s direction where he has Logan pinned to a wall, and he is whispering in her ear. The boy is so much like his father. I know she is up to something; I can smell it on her. She may not realize it yet, but she has sealed her fate. There is no doubt… she belongs to my son.

  Kodiak looks in my direction, and the look on his face is that of a predator while Logan’s is that of prey. I have no worries where she is concerned. Whatever she is up to will be revealed by the time my son is finished with her.

  I direct my guests to return to the party, and I focus my attention back on my wife, who is now immersed in conversation with Katrina. Perhaps she will find a friend in Novak’s wife. Bratva women need to make friends with other women involved our lifestyle so they have someone who understands what it’s like. If you don’t live the life, you can’t possibly fathom everything it entails from day to day.

  I look around the room at all the smiling guests as the celebration starts to wind down. The party is a huge success and two important things have been solidified tonight: Logan belongs to Kodiak, and Novak is here to stay.

  Chapter Twelve

  Glazov

  “You fucking cock tease,” I hiss.

  As soon as we enter the room, I grab her wrists and lock them in the manacles. I walk over to the button that will lift the restraints so her arms are stretched over her head, and I watch in amusement while she tries to stand on just her tiptoes. I’m unable to suppress my smirk as I rip the dress from her body. My Ptichka is nude and at my mercy. It’s time to play.

  I remove my suit coat, fold it, and lay it on a dungeon chair. I built this room for two purposes: to play, and to house prisoners. Right now, my wife is both my playmate and my captive.

  I stand in front of her while I roll up the sleeves of my dress shirt, revealing my forearms. I run my hands over her bruised body. There will be even more bruises by the time I’m finished with her tonight.

  “Do you think you can taunt me all night and not pay for leading me on?”

  “I’m already bruised. Please…” she answers in her already weakened voice.

  I grab a handful of her hair and turn her head from side to side as I smear her lipstick all over her face with the thumb of my other hand.

  “Damn it, Glazov!”

  Now we’re getting somewhere.

  “You’re marked, is what you are. Perhaps another tattoo is in order to remind you whose property you are; maybe we’ll get something on your inner lip where it really hurts.”

  Now she is fervently shaking her head back and forth and trying to get out of my grip. This is going to be fun.

  “You fucking bastard!”

  “Can I taste your pussy, you little cock tease?”

  I bend down, pull her legs over my shoulders, and begin lapping at her slit. She is the perfect mixture of what I crave to taste. She’s sweet and sour, pissed off yet turned on. Yeah, that is a heady combination. I watch her as she looks down at me, her eyes glued to my hooded gaze, both of us connected to the other. I run my tongue from the front of her slit to the back, dipping it inside her core every few laps.

  “You want to come?” I give her no time to answer. “Too fucking bad. Your little cock teasing games have put you in quite the predicament.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Yeah, she is right where I want her, taking the blame for the imagined offense she has committed against me.

  “So, you’re telling me you knew what you were doing?”

  “I’m telling you anything you want to hear, Glazov.”

  Yes, she is right where I want her. She is mentally at my mercy.

  “You taste good, girl.”

  I go back to dining on her hot little pussy that is twitching with need. She is so fucking wet that my face bears evidence of her arousal. I purposely bring her right to the edge and stop.

  “You fucking bastard!”

  “We’ve already been over this. I know I’m a bastard.”

  I strip down, release her from the chains, and then toss her onto the bed.

  “Assume the fucking position,” I growl at her.

  I watch as she quickly gets on all fours, doggy style, and then lowers her upper body down. When I see her grab two of the wrought iron spikes that make up part of the headboard, I know she is ready for me. I bury my face back in her pussy from behind, but this time, I bury two fingers inside her soaked opening until her body quakes in pleasure.

  I waste no time in kneeling behind her and plunge my cock deeply inside her.

  “You fucking cock tease, I’ll take your ass whenever and wherever I want it. I’ll take everything you have away from you and make it mine.”

  I slam my palm on her ass, and she screams out in pain.

  “Don’t move. Disobey me and take your hands off those spikes, and see what you get.”

  She is gripping the spikes so hard that her knuckles are white. She’s scared to let go, scared of me, and scared of what I might do to her.

  “You need this. You need me. Don’t ever forget it, Ptichka. You belong to me.”

  Kathleen

  He is right; I need what he gives me. I can hear his voice in the distance. The dopamine that floods my system makes everything sound fogged over. I feel his arms as he picks me up and carries me to our bathroom. My head falls onto his chest. I’m where I need to be—in his arms, in his care. He gently lowers my body down into the steaming water, infused with a mixture of fragrances. It’s some concoction my husband has formulated that will aid in my healing. It makes the bruises, cuts, and soreness fade more quickly, at least until the next time… and there will always be a next time.

  His mouth is right next to my ear when he starts whispering the truths of my reality—a reality I’ve lived since the day I first laid eyes on him.

  “I’ll always be in the shadows of your mind, waiting to pull you into my darkness. I can’t help myself; I need you in my world of fucked-up depravity. To lose you would kill me. You’re my kryptonite. Even when you’re safe in my arms, and I stand no chance of losing you, the fear resides in my chest, constricting my breath. You make me crazy. I face death every day with no fear, yet you terrorize me when you play your games. I have to possess you. Anything less means losing you, and that is unacceptable to me. I’ll cage you in that
fucking dungeon cell if I need to, but I will not lose you. It’s in your nature to run, and it’s in my nature to hold you captive, so our game of cat and mouse continues. Even after twenty years of marriage, you still captivate me. You would be wise not to underestimate how far I would go to keep you by my side.”

  My husband spends the next hour reassuring me that he is just as enamored with me now as he was in the beginning. I have no intentions of going anywhere, but trying to convince him of that is impossible. To appease his fear, I’ll let him keep the stranglehold he has on the Ptichka he’s convinced wants to fly away.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Glazov

  I lean back in my chair behind my desk and eye my cousin as he takes a seat across from me.

  “You still look like a fucking thug,” I tell him.

  I laugh as I view all his tattoos and piercings. Though he looks like he should be wearing a biker’s kutte, he’s walking around in a tailored suit. He’s a living, breathing oxymoron.

  He ignores my statement and, instead, addresses an issue from last night’s party that had aroused everyone’s curiosity.

  “It seems your son Kodiak has inherited your dominant ways. Who’s the chick that was on his arm last night? Or maybe I should say, who’s the chick he had pinned to the wall all night?”

  “Her name’s Logan, and I don’t know what she’s up to yet, but I put Kodiak on her to find out. She just started working here as a dealer. She’s a smart one; the bitch can count cards better than any dealer I’ve ever had.”

  “How do you know she’s up to something?”

  “I can smell her secrets.”

  “Ahh, the mark of a true predator.”

  “It’s in the family genes.”

  “Yes, it is. We do so enjoy the hunt and take down, don’t we, Cousin Glazov?”