Glazov (Born Bratva Book 1) (11 page)

Glazov

I eyed Yafon as I chuckled, “That woman of mine is one fiery redhead.”

“That she is, sir. That she is.”

“The government crossed a line when they sent you to monitor who I fuck. Priceless, Yafon, priceless. Have you done what I asked you to do?”

“Yes, sir, and from the looks of things, our timing is perfect.”

Timing is everything in my line of work; it can mean the difference between life and death. It is necessary to read how circumstances will play out. If I didn’t move quickly, there was a chance my plan might be disrupted. I had too much banking on the success of what I had planned. I wasn’t about to let law enforcement come between my Ptichka and what I had in store for her.

I had to admit I was shocked by her response when the suit offered her a way out. When you do what I do, there is nothing worse than a rat. I’d hate to have to kill the only woman I’ve ever loved. I would have to protect her from being put in a situation like this again. I had known, at some point, law enforcement would attempt to question her, but I hadn’t expected it to be this soon. It meant they were probably in the process of trying to execute a warrant. I was proud my little Ptichka had passed her first test in dealing with the FBI.

Kathleen

I made my way into Glazov’s, dropping my briefcase and leaving a trail of clothing behind me.

Every day, I was escorted home by Yafon, and today was no exception, even though my destination was Glazov’s house. I knew Glazov had his own reasons for his stalkerish behavior. I also understood it was for my own safety. I didn’t even want to think about the kind of enemies a man like Glazov probably had. No doubt, they were just as ruthless as he was.

Glazov was smart enough to know the quickest way for an enemy to hurt him was to hurt me. I had no intentions of being at the mercy of one of his enemies.

I began my ritual of running a bath. I needed to soak and let the water wash away all the stresses of the day. Meeting up with that agent had definitely caught me by surprise, and if I thought about it too much, it could be a source of anxiety I did not want to deal with. I didn’t plan on revealing what happened today to Glazov. It would only mean a rigorous interrogation that I didn’t feel like being subjected to. I wasn’t in the mood for his intensity right now.

I had known all along that either law enforcement or one of his enemies would connect me to him. To be honest, I have to say I was relieved it was the FBI. God only knows what one of those thugs would put me through.

I couldn’t imagine the horror of being at the mercy of someone who hated Glazov. I pushed the thoughts from my mind. This was the one thing I had spent a lifetime avoiding—trouble. It infuriated me that someone else had put me in this situation against my will. It was the definition of unfair personified. I didn’t ask for this shit, but that didn’t change the fact that I was in trouble, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

Today, a man stood in my office and told me he could help me. He had offered me a way out. I thought about what my life would be like in Witness Protection. It was possible; I could do it. I had no family, no friends, no one who would miss me or wonder why I had disappeared. Even if I decided to go that route, it still left Robin at the mercy of a madman. As far as I knew, he might kill her out of rage towards me. I would be in Witness Protection and never know he did it, but I would always wonder. Even if I did decide to talk to the agent, what could I tell him? I didn’t know anything about Glazov’s business dealings. It wasn’t like we discussed who he tortured and killed over dinner every night.

Ironically enough, the only person I had was Glazov. A cold-hearted killer was the only human being who exhibited any measure of love for me. Once again, it was clear to me in my mind’s eye that none of this made any sense. Anytime I tried to process a way out of this fucked-up situation, I never came up with any results. Much like being stuck in a maze, I was lost in a conundrum of chaos.

I jumped when I heard the bathroom door open and viewed Glazov entering.

I watched him as he stared at me. He said nothing while he undressed. His large chiseled body was tan, and his long blond hair hung loosely over his shoulders, accenting his ice-cold blue eyes. He looked like a man carved from granite and hewn by the gods themselves. I was certain that women fought to be in his presence, yet here I was fighting to get away. Maybe that was what captivated him; I was the first woman to challenge him. That was my nature, fighting, clawing, and willing my way through life. I survived. Ironically enough, that’s why he saw himself in me.

I stood mesmerized by his rock hard, tan body. I knew there were times he used a tanning bed. He once told me the heat eased his sore muscles after a strenuous workout. I’ve seen the workouts he subjects his body to and they’re brutal. Honestly, all the men who work for him looked like Neanderthals, the only difference being that Glazov was handsome in a professional type way. He was meticulous in his wardrobe, and there was nothing he wore that wasn’t tailor-made. The effect looked good on him. I saw how other women looked at him when we went out. They didn’t even care enough to try and hide it from me. They looked at me with thinly disguised hatred and eyed him as if they wanted to eat him alive. The amazing thing about it was that he never took his eyes off me. When he was with me, it was like no one else existed. We lived in our consummated bubble of engrossed unity, unaware of anyone else’s presence.

He reached under my arms and lifted me out of the water. He placed both his hands on the tile wall on either side of my head to trap me in.

He began biting at my breasts, just hard enough to make me wonder what he was up to.

“I’m going to ask you nicely, Ptichka, and if you lie to me, I’m going to hurt you.”

He spoke to me calmly as if he were asking me what restaurant I preferred. I knew Glazov well enough to know he probably already knew about my visitor today.

“Please, Glazov, I haven’t done anything wrong. I didn’t say anything.”

His bites were getting harder, and he roughly sucked and pulled on my breasts. It hurt in an odd way that felt good, and I was becoming aroused. I could feel the moisture between my thighs and the wrenching need building in my lower abdomen. I was scared, he was hurting me, and it was arousing both of us.

He grabbed both sides of my head by two handfuls of hair and stared at my trembling lip before he covered my mouth with his own. That kiss held more passion than most people feel in a whole session of lovemaking or, hell, probably more than a lifetime of lovemaking. The intensity between us was a raging inferno of raw lust and need. We were matches and gasoline, a dangerous combination of combustible need that threatened to explode and consume not only each other, but also anything and anyone in our world. There was no threat of that, though, because we guarded ourselves against the outside world, fearing anything that might come between us. Here I was, with a man who was afraid of nothing and no one, yet he exhibited fear when confronted with the threat of losing me. We both knew we would never find what we had with each other in someone else. This was a rare kind of love that only came along once in a lifetime. It was the kind of love people coveted and wrote about in history books.

He picked me up and spread me open, literally impaling me on his hard cock.

I bent back and palmed the wall, trusting him completely to not drop me. He held me up with ease while he fucked me. I felt small, protected, and sated in his arms. I was right where I needed to be.

He leaned in towards me so he could bite, lick, and roughly suck any part of my body he could reach. As he assaulted me with his mouth, tongue, and teeth, I cried out in response to the mixture of agony and ecstasy only he could provide.

“Do you think I am going to allow you the opportunity to testify against me? You underestimate me, Ptichka. Tonight, you become my wife!”

Shock and fear coursed through my system. He had threatened me with this before. He blatantly told me he would not stop until I bore his surname. It appeared he was going to make that threat a reality. When would I learn that this man always did what he said he was going to do? I understood, in that moment, why his enemies feared him. It was because he never made idle threats. If he told an enemy he was coming for them, they could be certain it would happen. Whether it was a day, a week, months, or even a year later, he would make good on his threat.

My eyes flew open in horror as I shook my head. “No, I can’t.” My refusal was completely ignored. The only request I was granted was permission to come all over the well endowed cock of my soon to be husband.

He was calling in all the debts Robin owed him, demanding that I be the one to pay, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. Day-by-day he gained more control, and day-by-day, I lost the will to fight him.

How did I, an intelligent, independent, strong-willed woman, become so attached to the kind of man society warned us about? He was the horror that mothers warned their daughters away from, and I was the proverbial moth drawn to the flame that never extinguished.

My heart was not listening nor adhering to my sense of better judgment. Whether I wanted to face the truth or not, I was falling in love with the man who forced his way into my life and was now forcing me to marry him. It would only be a matter of time before he made good on the threat of making me bear him a child. He was convinced I was the woman destined to carry his Bratva born son, and nothing would change his mind. There would be no escaping him, no divorcing him in later years, and most certainly, there would be no chance of taking his children and running away. I would be the vessel used to bear his children, but in his mind, they would belong to him and so would I.

I could love them, raise them, and be with them so long as I remained his wife. He would use them as a way to secure me at his side. He grew up knowing the power of family and a mother’s love. If these guys were anything, they were family oriented. Finally, the reason he had been so obsessed with me became clear to me. This was the first time he had ever been in a relationship with a respectable woman. No self-respecting Bratva born male was going to take some floozy home to meet his mother. Even though his parents were deceased, he still had those Bratva traditions ingrained in him from childhood.

I didn’t need Glazov or anyone else to tell me what my future with him would be like. I would be property—owned by Alexander Glazov. He had been nothing but honest about his intentions towards me since the beginning. He was also straightforward about his beliefs and plans for my future and the future of his legacy.