Glazov (Born Bratva Book 1) (10 page)

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Authors: Suzanne Steele

BOOK: Glazov (Born Bratva Book 1)
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Chapter Seven

Kathleen

“I swear you are crazy, girl. I’m sorry I ratted you out, but I thought he was going to kill me. I stayed tied up in that chair for an hour while his muscle gave me the third degree. Finally, I told him I had begged you to call him. That seemed to calm his violent streak, and by that point, I was just looking for any way to escape. He made me promise I would keep eyes on you and contact him if you tried to leave. The guy’s crazy. What the hell did you do to make him so obsessed with you?”

I ignored her question. I wasn’t about to fill her in on why Glazov was so fixated on me. Hell, I didn’t even fully understand, so how could I explain it to anyone else?

“Robin, you are the one who put me in this situation. Don’t try to act like you are the hero now. Just drop it already. I have been forced to move in with a Russian thug due to your gambling addiction. You just keep your ass in Gamblers Anonymous, and let me worry about my stalker, psycho, Russian thug boyfriend.”

I thought maybe the overplaying of words would give her the hint I wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. She seemed to get it because she quit trying to backpedal her way out of the fact that she sold me out to save her own ass. I mean, really, what was I expecting? Allegiance from the very person who put me in this situation? The sooner I accepted I had no friends and was alone, the better off I would be. I suppose a part of me had expected some sort of loyalty after all I’d done for her. I was naïve in believing so. I couldn’t help but feel the sting of betrayal and had to force away thoughts of firing her. Regardless of the fact that she was a traitor, she was a good worker, and I needed her to handle my accounts. Finding good help was hard, and I would only be hurting myself in the long run if I fired her to prove a point. Though, she would still do well not to push me. I was already pissed off at her about the debt, and she only intensified my anger by running her mouth to Glazov. My patience was wearing thin with her.

I spent the rest of the day working and trying to forget that I’d be going to Glazov’s home tonight instead of my own. I knew it was too soon to take a chance on angering him again by disobeying. He would just show up at my house in the middle of the night and do God knows what. Whether I liked it or not, I would be sleeping at his place tonight.

Kathleen

I entered Glazov’s home to find him reclined on the antique sofa in the seating area of the master suite. A large tray of food sat on the extravagant coffee table in front of him.

He waved two fingers in the air, summoning me over to him. “You are hungry, little one.”

It was more a statement than a question.

“Great, a romantic dinner,” I mumbled.

My stomach rumbled, my body betraying me once again to this man who seemed to gain more control over me with each passing day.

I eyed the man seated next to me. Today, he donned a burgundy suit with a black and white striped button-up shirt. His cuffs were solid white, and he wore gold cufflinks. He had removed his jacket at some point, making his holstered gun visible; he always had a gun on him.

I found myself sneaking peeks at him, but I looked down each time he caught me. He set his fork down and made that clicking noise with his tongue against his teeth he always made when he gave me his full attention.

Oh shit.

“You know, I like you. Anyone else, I just kill them.”

“Charmed, I’m sure,” I muttered.

His eyes squinted into small slits. “I try to be nice to you, but you have no manners.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Glazov? You abducted me, you brute!”

“You little thief!” he hissed as he grabbed a handful of my hair. “You owe me one hundred thousand dollars.”

“It’s fifty thousand!” I screamed. “And I didn’t steal it! My dumb-ass, addicted employee did, and while we’re talking about addictions, it’s thugs like you who enable them!”

In one swift motion, he pushed the coffee table away, and I jumped, fearing the food would go flying.

He viciously pinned me down on the couch with his hand around my throat as he ripped open my skirt. My G-string was no match for his strength, and he easily tore it from my body.

“You liar,” he hissed as he plunged a finger into me. My legs fell open, and my body fell back across the arm of the couch. My back was arched as my head hung over the edge, my body laid out in offering to my enemy.

A look of triumph spread over his countenance as he continued speaking while he worked his magic. “You lie to yourself and to your employee, but you cannot lie to me, Ptichka. You crave me as much as I crave you. You want to throw out accusations and judgments about addiction, but you and I are as addicted to each other as your friend is to gambling. You can say whatever you like, but your body tells me all I need to know. Do you honestly think you could be satisfied with another man after all I’ve shown you? You enjoy aggression, you enjoy pain, and whether you like it or not, you enjoy me. You can run to the ends of the earth to get away from me, but your body will betray you even if you’re a continent away. You. Crave. Me.”

He removed his pants and rubbed the head of his cock up and down my soaked opening. He would barely enter me and then withdraw until I started pleading with him.

He stood and tore out of the rest of his clothing. He lifted up my hips to meet his hardness and then roughly plunged into me. “Don’t you dare fucking move, Ptichka!”

His hands held my hips up as he took me, and my body was on fire for him because of it. Who was I kidding? This man was so deeply embedded in my system that I would never be able to dislodge him.

Tears streamed down my face as every nerve in my body screamed out for the touch of a man who held my very life in his hands.

I could hear his voice in the distance. He was a powerful presence that invaded my life with no warning, and now that he had consumed me, he still wanted more.

“I won’t stop until you bear my name, Ptichka,” he whispered. “I’m only getting started. I will spend the rest of my life merging your soul with mine. I need that. I need to possess you.”

Kathleen

I would awaken in the middle of the night to him whispering softly in my ear as his hands swept over my body with expert precision. His long blond hair tickled my skin as his stark blue eyes pierced through me, solidifying his threats to never release me. His whispers were soft yet threatening. He told me he would never let me go; he was going to force me to bear his son as payment for my debt. He told me I was called to Bratva just as he was. I was called to bear and raise his son to take over his legacy. He would tell me, in the same sentence, that he owned me, loved me, and that he would kill me before he ever let me go. He was everything I knew to avoid in a man, yet I wanted him… I craved him… I loved him…

I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame; the threat of my wings being singed by an all-consuming fire was ever-present. Though my reasoning had worked for me in the past in every area of my life, I was unable to resist the danger that was Glazov. No matter how much I told myself to get away from him—that no good could come from being with him—the truth was I had fallen in love with a cold-blooded killer.

Chapter Eight

Kathleen

I was grateful Glazov didn’t force me to stop going into my office to work. I imagined part of it was because he knew I would keep a watchful eye on Robin. I was responsible to a fault, and even he recognized that trait in me. Going into work also gave me the chance to decompress from the intensity he brought to the table. I was functioning on very limited sleep due to his penchant for waking me throughout the night to whisper threats while he fucked me. He’d only allow me a couple hours of sleep before he woke me to sate his desires again.

I could see him in my mind’s eye. He’d lean his massive chest over me, and his long blond hair would tickle my nipples when he softly stroked my face. He studied my expression as he told me his plans to force me to bear his son. I wondered how far he would go. Would he go so far as to make certain I wasn’t on birth control? Would it do me any good to try and sneak away to a doctor’s office? I couldn’t imagine bearing a child for the sole purpose of raising him Bratva. I was bewildered by the mere thought. Glazov’s father had raised him to take over his sect of the Bratva, and Glazov was obsessed with the idea of impregnating me with his child for the same purpose.

Glazov had the uncanny ability to accurately read people and situations. It was one of the reasons I was glad to get away from him during the day. It made me anxious to be observed all the time. I lived my life under the glaring light of his scrutiny. It was like he wanted to analyze my every thought, so he would have control over not just my body, but my psyche as well. His hold on me went far beyond the physical. He coveted being in my head so he’d always be with me, even when he wasn’t.

I’d never dealt with a man who actually cared about what I was thinking. Most men became bored after the newness of a relationship wore off. He was just the opposite.

He watched me like a hawk. I wondered if he was like this with his other women, but for some reason, I doubted it. He struck me as the kind of man who had a different woman in his bed every night. That was one of the reasons I didn’t understand his obsession with me. What was so different about me? Perhaps it was the fact that he felt like I was the woman chosen to carry on his legacy. For the first time in my life, my tendency to act responsibly was working against me. The women before me had all been Bratva groupies, passed around from man to man like party favors. I was the first woman he ever had who was a responsible businesswoman, and though he was a mobster, he was also a businessman. It took more than brawn to rule over his organization. It took brains, and if Glazov was anything, he was smart.

I looked up to view a gentleman in a dark suit standing in front of my desk. I should have known when I smiled and his countenance remained stoic that he did not come bearing good news.

“Kathleen Sanders?”

“Yes, how may I help you?”

“You can start by doing yourself a favor and breaking up with that thug boyfriend of yours.”

It suddenly hit me that this guy was from a branch of law enforcement. Judging by the way he was dressed, I guessed it was the FBI. He donned the standard dark suit, white shirt, and no-nonsense attitude that went with the stereotypical G-man.

“Well, you can start by showing me your credentials and telling me what branch of law enforcement you work for.” Though I already had the feeling this guy was FBI, I needed to see those credentials before I spoke to him.

Though my voice and demeanor were calm, my heart was beating out of my chest. I had known, in the back of my mind, this day would come. Sooner or later, whoever was following and watching Glazov would attempt to come after me. It was probably standard practice for them to go after the person they saw as the weakest link. A wave of relief washed over me when I realized they could have gone after my assistant. I was shocked I didn’t fear them questioning her for her safety’s sake. I just didn’t want her revealing any information about Glazov and getting him in trouble. For the first time in this chaotic journey I was on, I realized I didn’t want him to go to prison because it meant being away from him.

The man standing in front of my desk tossed down a badge, and sure enough, he was FBI. I hadn’t really needed the proof; I was simply stalling for time so I could wrap my brain around the fact that I was now a known associate of the Bratva. The woman, who spent her whole life being responsible so she could avoid trouble, was now being questioned by the highest branch of law enforcement in existence.

“Miss Sanders, you seem like a nice lady who has quite a bit of business sense. I would be willing to bet that Alexander Glazov has forced you into a relationship with him. I can help you escape him.”

Here it was, being offered to me on a silver platter. It was a way to escape but at what price? Witness protection? I would be forced to leave everything I had spent a lifetime building. Once again, I felt a wave of anger towards my assistant rush through me. Anyone who thought addiction didn’t affect anybody but the addict had never been close to one. The reason I had helped her in the beginning was the same reason I kept protecting her—her children. I grew up without a mother, and I would never wish that hell on anyone. I would continue to protect her from Glazov.

“Well, Mr. Turner, I’m sure that is a wonderful offer, but the problem is I know nothing of Mr. Glazov’s business practices. I can also assure you that I have not been forced into anything by anyone.”

“So, you admit you’re
choosing
to date the most dangerous Russian mobster on the FBI’s radar of your own free will?”

I looked him right in the eye and said, “I think you need to go because, as far as I’m concerned, the government crossed a line when they sent you to monitor who I fuck.”

His face remained stoic. “Very well,” he replied, and as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone.

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