Bratva Knight - 7. fejezet

Tatiana Andreeva

 

ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT!” MY dad yelled, glaring down

at me.

I hid my smirk behind my coffee mug, snuggling deeper into the couch.

The TV played lightly in the background, the relaxing aroma of my

lavender-scented candle surrounding me like a comforting hug.

Peter Sutherland in The Night Agent was kicking some major ass, drawing

me in completely. I was only up to episode six, and I knew already that it

was going to be one of my top ten favourite TV shows. I liked Rose. She

was different than a lot of the other female leads. She didn’t run and hide

when the male lead was fighting with some bad guy, trying to protect her.

She jumped into the fight, swinging logs like they were fucking baseball

bats, breaking bones. I loved me a savage queen.

“You said I could go.” I tried to keep the amusement I felt from trickling

into my voice, but based on the grumpy-ass look my dad threw my way, I

don't think it worked.

“I said to talk to Illayana.”

“Yep.”

“And did you?”

“Yep,” I repeated, popping the “p”.

“So you agree to it then? Because I’m not joking around, Tatiana,” he said

sternly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I know, Dad.”

“If you want to go to New York, you have to have the microchip put in.

That’s the condition.”

I popped a cookie into my mouth, my words coming out in a mumbled

mess as I replied, “I know, Dad.”

He slapped me upside the head, like Agent Gibbs does to Tony in NCIS.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

I chuckled, rubbing the back of my head with one hand while I took a sip

of my coffee with the other. “Face it, Pops. You’re just pissed because you

didn’t expect me to agree to your terms. Well, I have. Illayana’s already got

me booked in to see the family doc the day after tomorrow. This move is

happening.”

He flopped down onto the empty seat next to me, kicking his feet up onto

the coffee table in front of him. “It’s like you want to give me a heart attack,

moving all the way to New York with no one to watch your back,” he

grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s the city where crime never

sleeps. Maybe—”

“Nope. Don’t even think about it,” I cut in, elbowing him in the ribs. He

grunted, gripping his side. “I don’t want or need a bodyguard. Your only

condition was me getting that stupid tracker. You can’t go adding other shit

in to try and get me to back out.”

“Who said? I’m the parent here.”

“Don’t be an ass.” I offered him a cookie and he begrudgingly accepted.

“What are we watching?” he asked before stuffing it into his mouth.

“The Night Agent. It’s about a hunky FBI Agent who has to save this girl

from a bunch of bad men who are after her.”

“Sounds boring. Put on that show we were watching before I left. You

know the one I’m talking about, the one with the scientists.”

I smiled, laughing softly. “You mean Big Bang Theory?” I picked up the

remote, switching to Big Bang, and Dad nodded. He settled back further

into the couch, holding his hand out for more cookies as we watched TV

together, enjoying each other’s company. It might sound super lame, but my

dad is my best friend. Without a shadow of a doubt. Don’t tell Illayana.

It’s always been me and him. Him and I. Growing up, I was the textbook

definition of a “girly girl”. Everything I owned had to be pink. I liked

putting on make-up and wearing pretty dresses. I liked having tea parties

with my dolls and doing their hair. I hated getting sweaty or getting dirt

under my fingernails. You’d think a man like my dad would struggle raising

a daughter; a big, rough, rugged Bratva man who had zero experience with

children. But instead of trying to change me, shifting my interests into

things he might have been more comfortable with, he embraced me. He

would let me paint his nails bright pink, put make-up on him, style his hair

with pretty butterfly clips. He’d sit there for hours and play dollies with me,

pitching his deep, heavy voice higher to imitate whichever of my Barbies he

was holding. He would read me books, fairy tales about princesses and their

knights in shining armour.

I would fall asleep every night dreaming of finding my knight. Someone

who would love me, protect me, take care of me. Be there for me in every

way.

But when I needed my knight, he wasn’t there.

Not once did I ever feel like I was missing something in my life, missing

a mother. My dad was everything I ever needed. A father. A mother. A

friend.

“You haven’t asked me how my trip was?” Dad asked, giving me the sideeye.

“Maybe because I’m afraid if I ask, you’ll tell me.”

He exhaled an exasperated breath. “We have to talk about it eventually.”

“Do we?”

Dad snatched the remote and turned the TV off. “Tatiana—”

“I don’t even know why you went in the first place. Don’t get me wrong,

after what happened with the attack and everything, I’m glad you went. If

you stayed, you could have been hurt. But she didn’t deserve you flying

halfway around the bloody world to see her.”

“Despite what happened, what she’s done, she’s still my wife.”

“She abandoned us,” I snarled, my anger climbing rapidly. “Just packed

up her shit in the middle of the night and left us. Left you, her husband of

fifteen years. Left me, her two-week-old infant. She left us like we didn’t

mean a damn thing to her. Because guess what? We didn’t. And now what?

She thinks that after twenty-four years of silence, she can just waltz back

into our lives like nothing happened?” I shook my head, getting to my feet.

Angry, restless energy flowed through my body. Any time the subject of

my so-called “mother” came up, a dark, unrelenting rage took over my

mind. I hated her. I hated her with every single cell inside me. I didn’t care

what excuses she had for leaving us, why she did what she did. A mother

was never meant to abandon her child.

My dad and I pretty much had this exact same conversation right before

he left, and from the looks of things, this was going to end the same way

too.

Dad leant forward, resting his elbows on his thighs as he steepled his

fingers. He waited before responding, picking his words carefully. Smart

idea, considering I had a pretty bad temper when I was riled up.

“You have every right to feel the way you do. She understands what she

did, and she wants to apologise. Make it up to you.”

“I don’t need her to make it up to me. I need her to fuck off. I don’t

understand why you’re so quick to forgive her, after what she did.”

He looked at me, eyes filled with sadness and hurt. “I love her,” he

whispered, his voice the softest I’d ever heard it before.

I instantly felt bad. It was easy for me to forget that he’d had a life before

me. A life with her. The daughter of Satan.

“She doesn’t deserve your love, Dad. Not then, and certainly not now.”

He gave me a small smile. “You know as well as I do that we can’t help

who we love, Tatiana, whether they deserve it or not.”

I sat on the front porch at my house, the cool Las Vegas air nipping at my

skin and making me shiver.

My thoughts were chaotic, volatile. The conversation with my dad about

my mother still played over and over again in my head, worsening my

mood by the second. How fucking dare she? Who did she think she was?

What right did she have trying to come back into our lives like she had

every right to be there?

The bitch that was my mother—Svetlana Andreeva—tried contacting me

a few weeks ago, which I promptly ignored. I had no desire to hear a damn

word that came out of her mouth. There was nothing she could say that

would make up for twenty-four years of abandonment. For twenty-four

missed birthdays and twenty-four missed Christmases. For never being

there for me during all the moments a mother should be. When I lost my

first tooth. The first time I got my period. My first day of highschool. My

graduation. To teach me about make-up, or boys. To teach me what it means

to be a woman.

All of that made it impossible for me to forgive her.

When she couldn’t get in touch with me, she decided to go through my

dad instead. She asked him to fly all the way to Russia, and he had no

problem dancing to her tune. It irritated me how all she had to do was click

her fingers and my dad would come running.

I told him not to go. That there was nothing either of them could say to

me to get me to change my mind. I had no idea what she could possibly

want from me, and I didn’t fucking care. She didn’t have to be six feet

under to be dead to me.

The weight of my phone in my hand brought me out of my mind. I

glanced at the screen for the hundredth time, staring at Nikolai’s name, a

mix of emotions taking over me.

Part of me didn’t want to talk to him. Didn’t want to even go near that

door, let alone open it. Then there was this other part of me. This part that

was slowly getting bigger and bigger every day, that was dying to reforge

that connection with him, dying to just let go of all that anger and

resentment still burning within me and move on.

Out of everyone in my life—my dad, Illayana, my aunt and uncle—he

was the only person I wanted to talk to. The only person I felt like would

understand. The only person I wanted to confide in about what was going

on.

Stop being such a little bitch. I hit CALL.

The phone barely rang once before Nikolai picked up, his voice frantic.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

My lips curled into a small smile at his reaction to me calling him. I

couldn’t really blame him for it, to be honest. It was the first time since that

night that I’d reached out to him.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.”

I could almost feel his eyes narrow with suspicion through the phone.

Maybe my ability to guess came down to the fact that I knew him so well.

“You’re okay?”

“Yes…no, I mean,” I exhaled, shaking my head. “I don’t know.”

“Tati,” he said softly but sternly. “What’s the matter?”

This is why you called him, you idiot. Talk to him.

“My mother reached out to me a few weeks ago.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Your mother?”

“Mmhmm.”

“What did she want?”

“To see me? Talk to me? Fuck me up even more? I have no idea, really. I

hung up on her the second I realised it was her, and I’ve ignored all her calls

ever since.”

“How did she get your number?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. I want nothing to do with her. My dad, though,”

I shook my head, still frustrated by the whole thing. “He wants to give her a

chance. Do you know why he went to Russia?”

“No, but I have a feeling it has something to do with her.”

“Yep.” I got to my feet, walking the length of the front porch and back.

“She called him and said she needed to see him. But she didn’t have a

passport, so what did he do? He hopped on the first flight he could get and

went to her. Despite everything she’s done, he’s still willing to forgive her.

I’m not entirely sure what she really wanted from him, from us. Maybe she

thought she’d have better luck getting him to convince me to talk to her if

she could give him the crocodile tears in person. Maybe she just wanted to

fuck with him. See if she still had him on the hook. I don’t know, and I

don’t fucking care.”

He chuckled softly and it made me shiver. That deep, rumbly sound

always excited me. It made my heart race.

“Right. It sounds like you don’t care.”

“I don’t,” I snapped, still pacing up and down.

He chuckled again, and I wanted to smile at him and strangle him at the

same time. “You want to know how I know you care, Tati? Because you

babble when something matters to you. Your voice pitches higher and your

words come out in a rush, like you’re trying to get the lies out as quickly as

you can, so that maybe even you will believe them.”

My mouth dropped open in outrage. “I do not do that.”

“Yes, you do, love.”

Butterflies bloomed in my stomach. I should tell him off for calling me

that. I should tell him pet names like that weren’t appropriate for the barely

platonic relationship we now had. But the truth of the matter was, I didn’t

want him to stop. I fucking liked it.

The last time we’d spoken, I told him I wanted space from him. That I

didn’t want to see him or talk to him. At that moment, I meant it. I meant

every word. I truly believed I wouldn’t be able to move on unless I

distanced myself from him. Until I tried to forget him and the pain that

came every time I saw him.

But how was I supposed to forget about him, to move on, when he still

made my heart race like a jackhammer every time I so much as thought

about him? Every time I heard his voice?

“You don’t know me nearly as well as you think you do, Nicky.”

“I know you better than anyone else in the world,” he fired back instantly,

ignoring my attempt to get a rise out of him and shift the conversation. I

called him Nicky to piss him off, to distract him whenever I was feeling

vulnerable. He wasn’t falling for it this time, though. “I know you hate the

colour orange because you think it washes you out. I know you prefer Dean

over Sam Winchester. That you can’t stand the smell of cinnamon but love

cinnamon donuts, that Twinkies are your favourite sweets, and I know that

you’ve been pacing up and down your front porch since the moment we got

on the phone.”

I came to an abrupt halt, frowning suspiciously. “How do you know I’ve

been pacing?”

“Like I said, I know you.”

Uh-huh, right.

I glanced up at the security camera hanging up high on the outside of my

house. “You’re watching me, aren’t you?”

He hesitated briefly before answering. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to see for myself that you were okay.”

Shaking my head, I raised my hand into the air, extending my middle

finger and smiling wide.

I wasn’t overly surprised he’d hacked into our security system. He’d done

shit like that before; using cameras and shit to track where I was going, who

I was seeing, what I was doing. At first, I was outraged. I felt like it was a

huge invasion of my privacy. But now? I was honestly so used to it, it didn’t

even bother me anymore. It just rolled right off my shoulders. Nothing

Nikolai did really surprised me anymore.

“Oh, Tati,” he breathed, a hint of excitement in his voice. “Have you

forgotten already what happened the last time you did that to me?”

I sucked in a breath, the memory of that day smacking me in the face so

hard that I felt lightheaded.

“Anybody ever told you you look exactly like Blake Lively, only hotter?”

I rolled my eyes. The Cosa Nostra man I was walking beside—Giovanni?

No, Matteo? No. Ah, fuck. Whatever his name was didn’t matter—was

laying it on so thick, there was no way anything was going to happen

between us.

When I’d first seen him, clapping and cheering as we all screamed

“surprise” for Arturo at his surprise thirtieth birthday party, I’d entertained

the idea of hooking up with him.

He was my type to a tee: big, tall, a little gloomy. He reminded me of

Nikolai. I think that was what I was attracted to, if I was being honest with

myself.

We chatted a little bit, flirting with each other, and when he asked if I

wanted to go somewhere for a little “privacy”, I was keen—emphasis on

the was. When I was alone with him, I realised it wasn’t what I wanted. That

I was using him to fill a void for someone else.

I hadn’t been physical with anyone else since Nikolai. Every time I’d

tried, I couldn’t go through with it. I felt like I was being unfaithful, which

was stupid. We weren’t together. Hadn’t been for a long time.

Enzo (again, not sure on the name) reached for my hand, intertwining our

fingers as he brought us to a stop around the side of the house. The contact

felt…wrong.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, stepping closer. He pulled

me towards him, bringing our bodies within inches of each other.

“I’ve been wondering if your lips feel as soft as they look.” He lowered

his head, his mouth inching closer and closer to mine.

I placed my hands on his chest, pushing back. “Wait—”

“Tatiana!” A deep voice cut through the air, a voice I’d recognise

anywhere.

I glanced over Eduardo’s shoulder, my eyes widening.

Oh, shit.

Nikolai charged towards us like a man on a mission, his hands squeezed

into fists, muscles bulging. His jaw was clenched, a dark, primal anger

radiating from him. I’d seen that look on his face before, right before he

strangled someone to death for slapping my ass.

“Who’s that?” What’s-His-Face asked, frowning at the big, hulking man

stomping our way, his body still dangerously close to mine.

I stepped away from him, my back hitting the brick wall behind me. “I’d

run if I were you.”

He scoffed, looking offended. “Run? From him?” He hiked his thumb

over his shoulder. “I’m not scared of some two-bit thug whose arms are

bigger than his brains—”

Nikolai grabbed a fistful of Elias' hair and smashed his face into the wall.

The idiot I warned to run cried out in pain, the crack of his nose breaking

echoing in the air.

I sighed as he crumbled to the ground, blood trailing down the wall. “I

told you to run,” I said, staring down at him crying on the grass.

“Don’t fucking talk to him,” Nikolai growled, picking him up by the back

of his shirt. He pulled out a knife and held it to his throat.

“Nikolai, don’t. You’ll just—”

He plunged the knife up Emilio’s chin, killing him without a moment’s

hesitation.

“—cause problems,” I huffed out, shaking my head.

He’d just killed a Cosa Nostra soldier in the house of the guy’s Don.

Things were already tense between them and us. This would just cause more

problems when people found out.

“Goddamn it, Nicky. You need to get that jealous temper of yours under

control.”

Nikolai picked up Emiliano’s lifeless body and threw him to the side like

he was a piece of trash. Then he was right up against me, his body flush

with mine.

I gasped at the feel of him, my mind going blank. He stared down at me,

positively brimming with rage.

“Did he kiss those lips?” Nikolai whispered darkly, gripping my chin.

My heart slammed in my chest, my body on fire. It had been nearly two

years since he touched me like this, and it felt just as amazing as it did the

very first time.

“Answer me, love.” He leant closer, his voice skating over my skin. “Did

you let him kiss you?”

“No,” I swallowed. I was incapable of resisting him when he was this

close, when I could feel his body pressed against mine. When I could

breathe in the intoxicating scent of his cologne, mixed with his alluring

natural scent. It made it so easy to forget all the bad shit that's happened

between us.

Nikolai’s mesmerising blue eyes trailed over my bare arms. “But you let

him touch you, didn’t you?”

I rolled my eyes. “You seem to be forgetting one very important piece of

information here, Nicky. It’s none of your business if he touched me, if he

kissed me. I can do whatever I want. Fuck whoever I want. So, why don’t

you take this right here”—I held up my middle finger—“and go fuck

yourself?” I asked, smiling sweetly.

His gaze flicked to my hand and back to my face quickly. He moved with a

deadly calm, wrapping his fingers around mine. The skin-to-skin contact

was electrifying.

“Wha-what are you doing?” I shuddered as he slowly brought my hand

down my body and between my legs. The way his hand was wrapped around

mine prevented me from lowering my middle finger.

“You think I’m just going to accept that bratty attitude of yours,

Tatiana?” he rumbled, his other hand brushing the inside of my thigh.

Anticipation zinged up my spine. My eyes darted around our

surroundings, the music and laughter from the party floating in the air. We

were completely out in the open. Anyone could come walking around the

side of the house and catch us.

“You’re going to stand here and fuck yourself with that finger you so

rudely aimed my way,” he said huskily, staring deeply into my eyes.

I swear to God, I had to bite my lip to stop from whimpering. I couldn’t

even put into words how good it felt having him so close, what his touch did

to me.

“Nikolai,” I glanced from side to side, breathing heavily. “Someone could

see.”

He chuckled darkly. “But you like that, don’t you, love? You like knowing

we could be caught at any moment.” He hooked his fingers around my

underwear and pulled them to the side, freeing my pussy. “The idea of

someone stumbling onto us, seeing you at my mercy. It turns you on, doesn’t

it?”

I didn’t bother answering because he knew I liked it. I did not by any

means want to actually be caught. But the idea of it?

Yeah, it was thrilling as hell.

He brushed my own finger over my clit, making me gasp.

“Tell me what you feel,” he breathed against the side of my neck. “Are

you wet for me, my Tati?”

There was no fucking way I could hold in the whimper that time. I had

over six-and-a-half feet of pure muscle pressing me into the wall,

whispering filthy things in my ear.

I was goddamn helpless, and he knew it.

“Yes,” I panted, swivelling my hips slightly, trying to increase the

pressure. It might have been my own finger that was giving me pleasure, but

Nikolai was the one controlling it. Deciding where it was going, whether it

was a light or a hard touch.

“How does my pussy feel, hmm?” he purred, pushing my finger through

my folds. He stopped at my entrance, not letting me go any further. “I

haven’t touched her in so long,” he practically whined. “I miss her.” He bit

down on my neck and I groaned. “Does she miss me?”

“Let me stick my finger in and I’ll tell you.”

He leant back slightly, smirking down at me. There was a sinful look in his

eyes, one that made my pulse fucking skyrocket.

He pushed my hand forward and my finger slipped right in, a moan

falling from my lips. He pressed deeper and deeper, unwrapping his hand

from mine as he went until my middle finger was knuckle-deep in my pussy.

His grip moved to my palm, tight and restricting, not allowing me an inch to

play with. I could still move my finger back and forth, but it wasn’t enough

to get me to come.

And Nikolai knew it.

He knew I needed more, and I knew I wouldn’t get it until I gave him the

answer he was looking for.

Stubborn, big-headed—

“Your pussy misses you,” I whispered.

He gave me a feral smile, one of pure, male satisfaction. He began

moving my hand, manipulating it in a way that had my back arching from

the pleasure. I moaned his name.

Nikolai watched me with hooded eyes, his arm disappearing under my

sundress, along with mine.

“More, Nikolai, more,” I begged, completely lost in the moment, rolling

my hips.

“Do you want my fingers, love? You need me to help?”

“Yes. Yes.”

He lowered his head, running his tongue over my bottom lip. “You know

what I want to hear.”

I whimpered, my legs shaking. It had been so long since I’d come by

someone else’s hand, so long since someone other than myself had given me

pleasure. After what happened between us, I’d told myself time and time

again that I’d never fall under his spell again. That we were done. Ancient

history.

“I belong to you.”

Dark possessiveness shone in his eyes. His grip on my hand loosened, but

when I tried to pull my finger from my pussy, he stopped me. I was about to

yell at him, the word ‘asshole’ literally on the tip of my tongue. It vanished

the moment I felt his finger slip inside me, right next to my own. We both

groaned. Nikolai moved closer, his cock digging into my hip. It made the

whole thing even hotter. Feeling how hard he was, knowing it was all

because of me, was fucking exhilarating. Even after all those years.

“You’re so wet, baby. God, I’ve missed this. I missed your greedy pussy

sucking me in.” He kept his touch light but firm. Exactly the way I liked it.

Excitement burned in my veins. I moaned as the pressure between my legs

built higher and higher, my orgasm approaching fast.

“I love that fucking sound,” Nikolai grunted, increasing the pace. “You

better hurry, love. I think I hear someone coming. Unless, you want them to

see you come all over my fingers? Is that what you want? Hmm?” He

slipped another finger inside me and I cried out, gripping his shoulder and

holding onto him as I bared down.

“Fuck, Nikolai,” I panted heavily, grinding against our hands.

I was going to come. It was right there. I could feel it inching closer and

closer. The combination of his words, his scent, his touch, the prospect of

someone catching us…it was all too much.

Fuck. Fuck.

Nikolai slammed his lips to mine to smother my cry as white-hot,

blistering pleasure exploded inside me, spreading through me like a rushing

wave. The feel and taste of his tongue in my mouth heightened everything.

He kissed me sensually, slow and deep as he pumped our fingers in and out

a few more times before pulling them out completely.

My head fell forward, resting against his chest as I tried to catch my

breath. God, Nikolai gave the best orgasms. Without a shadow of a doubt. It

was partly his skills, but a lot of it was just him. The way he knew me better

than anyone. He knew exactly what I liked.

Taking a small step back, Nikolai brought our hands up between us, our

fingers glistening from my orgasm. Hunger burned in his eyes. He stared at

my wetness like a man starved, desperate to taste. His eyes locked onto

mine, the intensity in his gaze hot enough to sear me as he slowly sucked

our fingers into his mouth. My breath hitched.

He groaned, long and low, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“Oh, fuckkkk,” he dragged out, hollowing his cheeks and sucking harder

and harder, like he was trying to get every drop of me. There was something

so fucking hot about a man who loved how you tasted. Who couldn’t get

enough of it. Who—

“I’m telling you, man, getting a finger in your ass actually feels pretty

good.”

I stiffened when Lukyan rounded the corner, one of Illayana’s guards,

Christian or Luca (I could never tell which one was which) at his side.

They stopped dead in their tracks when they saw us; me pressed up

against the wall, Nikolai with both of our fingers in his mouth.

Lukyan just smirked. “Are we interrupting?”