Bratva Knight - 3. fejezet

Tatiana Andreeva

 

HOW ARE YOU HOLDING up?” I looked at my best friend

sitting on the floor of her old bedroom, the blank expression on

her face making worry clutch at my chest.

She was totally checked out. Gone. The lights were on but nobody was

home. It was clear that she was in shock, having trouble coming to terms

with the events of the last twenty-four hours. Not that I blamed her. I was

having a hard time believing it too.

Dimitri Volkov was like a nightmare. The “John Wick” of our world. A

literal boogeymen in expensive Armani suits. He was the type of man

monsters ran away from. How was it that such a powerful and fearsome

man had been kidnapped? From his own home?

It was something all of us were finding difficult to accept, but especially

Illayana.

 

She had that “No one can beat my dad, he’s a superhero” kind of

mentality. Except, Dimitri was more like a supervillain.

When Illayana didn’t answer, I climbed off the two-seater couch I was

sitting on and crawled towards her. My arms wrapped around her tightly,

squeezing, trying to give her as much comfort as I could. My touch snapped

her out of her daze and she returned the hug earnestly, her grip almost

painful. She sobbed into my shoulder, her emotions spiralling.

Loud banging came from her bedroom door. “Illayana? What’s going on?

Are you okay?” a deep voice boomed.

I rolled my eyes. Her guard dog of a husband was still standing outside

her room. Her cries had been loud enough for him to hear, and now he was

losing his mind with worry. It took physically shoving him out of the room

to get him to leave the first time.

I knew my best friend. She hated showing weakness in front of others.

She tended to keep her feelings close to her chest, not revealing them to

anyone. I understood that Arturo was her husband, but the relationship was

still relatively new. All it took was one glance at Illayana’s face to know she

wouldn’t let go until she was alone.

Well, there was no way I was going to allow that to happen. I wasn’t

going to let her sit there all by herself and try to deal with the emotions I

knew would bubble over at any moment.

She clung to me tightly like I was her lifeline, keeping her grounded. Her

tears soaked into my shirt, her cries muffled as she buried her head deeper

into my shoulder. I let her cry for as long as she needed, not rushing her.

After a few minutes, she leant back, her eyes red and puffy.

“Fuck,” she breathed out, sniffling. “I haven’t cried like that since—” her

words abruptly cut off. Pain flashed in her eyes.

I didn’t need her to finish the sentence to know what she was talking

about.

“I need to get a grip. All this crying isn’t going to do shit,” she chuckled

humourlessly, trying to laugh it off. She was wanting a distraction. I was

happy to oblige.

“How crazy is the whole ‘Aleksandr and the cartel woman thing’?”

It had been one hell of a shock for me, that was for damn sure. I’d seen

Aleksandr with women, sure. That gold-digging bitch, Mila, for example.

But I’d never seen him like that.

That tiny woman had somehow managed to tame Aleksandr, the hard,

control freak prince of the Bratva. I thought I’d die before I saw the day.

The subject change worked and Illayana smiled. “I know. So crazy. He

told me about her before he left Arturo’s party.”

I gasped, hand flying to my chest in mock hurt. “And you didn’t tell me?”

Her smile widened a little bit more. “Like you tell me everything,” she

said, rolling her eyes.

She was joking, just fucking around. But I laughed alongside her,

pretending like I wasn’t the big, fat, fucking fraud I was. Illayana thought I

told her everything, that I’d never hide anything from her. The truth of it

was, though, that I’d hidden the most agonising and traumatic thing that’s

ever happened to me. Guilt overcame me, like it always did whenever I

thought about how much I was keeping from my best friend.

When things first started with Nikolai and I, I’d been afraid to tell her,

afraid she would get mad at me for doing the nasty with her older brother.

As more time passed, it got harder and harder to tell her.

Nikolai and I snuck around for over a year, fucking in those hidden rooms

they had throughout that maze of a bloody house. It had been the most

exciting and exhilarating time of my life. The thrill of getting caught. The

way he’d fuck me up against the wall, his hand covering my mouth so no

one could hear my screams of pleasure.

“Such a wet, tight little pussy you have, my Tati.”

“Can you feel how deep I am inside you? Fuck, you feel so good baby.”

“Mine. All fucking mine.”

He’d whisper the filthiest, dirtiest things in my ear while holding me

pinned to the wall, his breath hot on my skin, and I’d absolutely crumble

beneath him.

And then it all changed.

In the blink of an eye, our relationship came crashing down, spiralling out

of control. No matter what I did or said, I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t—

I slammed the door shut on that train of thought instantly. The pain of

what happened was too much to bear the first time around. I couldn’t let

myself go down that road again. I couldn’t relive it. There’s no way I’d

survive it.

“Aw, T. It’s okay. I know you’re worried about my father and what it

means for the Bratva, but don’t worry. We’ll find him. And until then,

Aleksandr has it covered,” Illayana said, patting my arm comfortingly.

She thought I was upset about the situation, that the look of sadness and

despair in my eyes was about the attack. All the lives we’d lost. Not about

—

NO!

“Thanks, girl. But I should be the one comforting you.”

Illayana smiled affectionately. “You did. Now it’s my turn. That’s what

best friends do. We look out for each other.”

The guilt smothering my chest made it difficult to breathe. I ignored it,

like I always did. I was getting pretty good at it, to be honest.

“I’m so excited for you to move to New York.” Illayana got to her feet

and walked through the open door of her ensuite, going for the sink. She

turned on the tap and splashed some water on her face before running her

hands through her hair and tightening her ponytail. Her eyes locked onto

mine through the mirror in front of her. “I’m sorry I won’t be there when

you first get there. I can’t leave Vegas right now, not while my father is

missing.”

I waved a hand through the air, getting up to join her. I leant against the

doorframe. “Don’t even worry about it. I don’t leave for a few weeks

anyway. Hopefully by then he’ll be found, and all this shit will be dealt

with.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “Hopefully.”

I could tell that she didn’t believe it, that she’d already accepted in her

mind that she wouldn’t be seeing her father again. At least, not alive.

I’ll admit, the odds weren’t great. But if she couldn’t have faith that we’d

find him alive, I would just have to have it for her.

“Remember that time Dimitri took out an entire gang when they tried to

jump you guys when you were kids? Or the time he killed six men with a

knife sticking out of his gut? Dimitri is tough. The toughest, scariest son of

a bitch I know. If anyone can make it out alive, it’s him, Illayana. Believe in

your father. Have faith in him. Trust him.”

Illayana exhaled heavily. “You’re right.”

“I know. I’m always right,” I winked.

She turned, flicking water at me playfully. “Are you excited to finally

move out and go to college? It’s what you’ve always wanted to do.”

Warmth spread through me, right down to my fingers and toes, and a

bright, beaming smile curled on my lips. “Excited is an understatement.”

A month ago, I got my acceptance letter into FIT, The Fashion Institute of

Technology in New York City. I didn’t tell a single soul I was applying, just

in case I got rejected. Not my dad. Not Illayana. Not even Nikolai. No one.

I filled out the application, wrote a kickass admissions essay and

submitted pages and pages of my designs, not really thinking I’d actually

get in. Imagine my fucking surprise when that letter came!

To Miss Tatiana Andreeva,

We are pleased to inform you-

I only read up to there before the scream erupted from my mouth. I’d

jumped up and down with excitement, screaming so loudly that my dad had

come running up from downstairs because he thought I was under attack or

something. He kicked down the door like he was the LVPD doing a drug

bust or some shit, a gun in each hand and eyes filled with panic.

I ended up telling him I’d seen a spider and he’d instantly relaxed,

because a huge screaming fit was a perfectly normal reaction for me

whenever I saw a spider. Creepy, eight-legged freaks.

“By the way,” I began, giving my best friend a suspicious look. “How did

you manage to convince my dad to let me go?”

Illayana winced slightly. “Yeah, uh...look, I had to offer him something

you’d never in a million years be okay with.”

“Then why did you offer it?”

“Because it was the only way to get him to agree. After you told me you’d

been accepted—which, by the way, I’m still ticked off that you waited three

damn weeks to tell me about—I spoke with Ivan. I offered him the damn

moon and stars and everything in between to let you go. When that didn’t

work, I threatened him.”

I arched a brow in amusement. “Threatened him?”

“Not with pain. Come on, give me a little credit. I wouldn’t hurt your

dad.” I didn’t think she would, but I chuckled lightly as she continued. “I

told him if he stopped you from going and living your dream, I’d have

Father assign him to the pit.”

A barking laugh ripped from my mouth. Ohhh, that was cold.

Having guard detail in the pit was considered one of the worst jobs

amongst the soldiers. It involved standing in front of a door for the entirety

of your shift, making sure whichever prisoner you were watching didn’t

escape.

“But he still said no,” Illayana huffed, walking out of the bathroom. “I

was ready to thump him in the head. I was getting so irritated.”

“I bet,” I chortled.

She flopped down onto her bed and turned to face me, lying on her side.

She used her hand to prop her head up, arm bent at the elbow. “I asked him

what it would take to get him to agree with the move. He said, ‘Nothing’. I

said, ‘There must be something’. He said, ‘Not unless you can guarantee

her safety—’

“Which is impossible,” I cut in, sitting back down on the small, two-seater

couch opposite her bed.

“Well, not exactly. I told him I couldn’t guarantee it, but I could get pretty

damn close.”

“Right. This ‘mysterious’ offer you mentioned that I wouldn’t agree

with.” I tucked my bare feet underneath me, getting comfortable. I waved a

hand through the air. “Okay, out with it.”

Illayana hesitated for a moment, her eyes avoiding mine. “I said you’d be

willing to have a tracking chip put in. Like mine.”

“You what?!” I exclaimed, my voice pitching higher. I slapped a hand to

my forehead, groaning. “Illayana, why would you do that?”

“What?” She shrugged innocently. “He said yes.”

“Because he knows I’d never fucking agree to it. You know how I feel

about that shit. I’ve got no idea why you even allow it. You’re chipped like

a fucking animal.”

“Hey. This thing”—she touched the back of her neck lightly—“saved my

life. Without it, I’d probably be dead and buried naked in a ditch

somewhere right now.”

I huffed out a breath. “Okay, fair point. I’ll give you that one.”

“Just do it, T. It’s really not that big of a deal. You can’t even feel the

thing. If it gets your dad off your back, and will give you the ability to move

to New York guilt free, what harm is it gonna do?”

She had a point. I was twenty-four and had never lived on my own. I was

dying inside for that freedom, for the ability to walk around my house stark

naked if I bloody well wanted to.

For all my life, it had just been me and my dad. My good for nothing, so

called “mother” walked out on us when I was just a baby, leaving us to fend

for ourselves. The guilt I felt about moving stemmed from that. I felt like I

was abandoning him. Like her.

I wanted to travel the world. To explore different things, different cultures.

But every time I’d bring it up, Dad would rant and rave about how it wasn’t

safe. Nothing had happened to make him think that way, to trigger that

unbearable overprotectiveness. It was purely because he knew how

dangerous and cruel the world could be, and he didn’t want me to fall

victim to it. He kept me close because he was afraid to lose me. I didn’t

want to fight it because I didn’t want to hurt him.

But Illayana was right. If all I had to do was get chipped like a fucking

dog to get my dad to be okay with me leaving, it was a small price to pay.

I shook my head, chuckling softly. “You know, I was surprised as hell

when he called me the other day and said I could go. I was so shocked, I

dropped my hot bowl of soup right into my lap. When I asked him what

made him change his mind, he just said, ‘Ask that best friend of yours’. He

didn’t think I’d agree to the terms.”

“But you’re going to, right? You’re gonna do it?”

“Yes,” I blew out, irritated. “This is the first time he’s ever given me the

opportunity to leave home. I’d be an idiot to waste it.”

“Damn straight you would,” Illayana nodded. “When will he get back

from Russia?”

“Tomorrow.” I’ll admit, I was pretty ticked off he left. He wouldn’t let me

visit my best friend in New York without giving me a six-hour lecture on

safety and all the bad shit that can happen. But he was allowed to go

gallivanting halfway around the world? Talk about double standards.

Now, though, I’m glad he went. If he hadn’t, he would have gotten caught

up in the attack.

Illayana and I talked for a little while longer, catching up on everything

we’d missed in each other’s lives over the last month. She told me all about

the trouble The Outfit was giving her and Arturo. How Franco was fucking

with their distribution, making it difficult for them to sell their product.

Somehow, he was finding out the locations of their manufacturing and

distribution houses and raiding them before they even knew what was going

on.

When I suggested they might have another rat, she was adamant that

wasn’t the case. After that whole mess with Diego and the money he’d

stolen, Arturo had done a thorough check of all his men. He was beyond

confident there was no one else in the Cosa Nostra whose loyalty could be

questioned.

So how was Franco finding out the new locations of their operations only

hours after they’d been set up? It was a serious problem. One I knew

worried her a lot.

“How about I go to New York early and help out? That way you can stay

here as long as you need and I can keep you updated on what’s going on, so

you don’t pull your hair out from the stress.”

Illayana blinked in surprise. “But what about college?”

“Eh,” I shrugged. “Classes don’t start for another month. I was only going

early to get situated and move into the apartment. Which, by the way, I’m

paying rent for. I don’t care what you say.”

Arturo (and Illayana now, I guess, by extension) owned several apartment

buildings in the city and they offered me one to stay in while I was in New

York.

I of course accepted, because finding a decent apartment in New York

City was a fucking nightmare. But when the subject of rent came up,

Illayana flat out refused to hear it.

“You chose not to be in this life, though. Are you sure this is something

you want to do?”

“I didn’t choose to go into the Bratva for two reasons. One: the uniforms

are borderline nasty. I’d rather cut my own foot off and eat it than be caught

wearing those ugly, vomit-inducing things you make those enforcers wear.

And two: I needed the time to work on my fashion line. That’s it. I love

blood and violence just as much as you do, maybe more. And I’m looking

forward to it. As long as I get to pick my own outfits.”

Illayana laughed softly. “You’d really do that for me?”

I picked up a pillow and threw it at her head, making her laugh again.

“Bitch, you should know by now that I’d do anything for you. You’re my

ride or die. The Dominic Toretto to my Brian O’Conner. The Shrek to my

Donkey. The James P Sullivan to my Mike Wazowski.”

“I get it, I get it,” Illayana cut in, barely containing her laughter. “And

hey, why am I Shrek?”

“You wanna be Donkey?” I shrugged. “That’s okay, you can be Donkey.

You’re kind of an ass anyway.