Glazov (Born Bratva Book 1) (18 page)

Kathleen

I was exploring the mansion and being nosey when I happened upon the gym. This mansion had been built on the blood of others, and my curiosity about what went on behind its walls had finally gotten the best of me. I had a burning need to know. I wasn’t quite sure what knowledge I was seeking, but the pull to uncover my husband’s ancestral secrets was gnawing at me incessantly. I needed to know what my children had to look forward to while living the lives fate had allotted them. I might not be able to alter their futures, but if I understood the path chosen for them, perhaps I could assist them on their journey. Bratva’s secrets were hidden here in the motherland of Russia and within the walls of this mansion. I just needed to uncover their truths.

I brought my camera with me in case I found something incriminating, perhaps to take some shots as a safety net of sorts. What I ended up seeing, however, was a sight I never could have prepared for. The ruthlessness of my husband showed on his face in stark relief. The veil of obscurity he normally wore had been lifted, and a monster he’d managed to keep hidden from me was being unleashed in a boxing ring. His attack on the victim was brutal, and I wondered if he had purposely kept this beast—this demonic force inside him—caged so as not to scare me. I had always sensed it just below his surface. There was a predatory glint in his eyes when he stared at me sometimes. It was almost like he wanted to eat me alive, and I got the feeling that only blood would sate his carnivorous hunger.

Blood flew through the air as my husband beat his boxing opponent mercilessly. Hidden from view, I stood around the corner and clicked shots until I couldn’t stand the savagery anymore. The pictures would be proof of his brutality in case I ever needed them. They would be the visual that brought the darkness within his soul to light. It was obvious he enjoyed inflicting pain. He delighted in his victim’s suffering, and from the looks of it, his men did as well. I was in a room full of sadists. They looked like a pack of hungry wolves circling wounded prey, ready to go in for the final kill. I wondered how long this atrocity would sate them before the need for blood reared its ugly head again.

I quickly made my way back upstairs to put my photographic proof on a memory stick before I deleted everything from my camera and hid the evidence.

I don’t know what I thought I could prove with them. It wasn’t like people didn’t already know my husband was ruthless. Nevertheless, I had them just in case I ever needed to show someone just how vicious he really was.

Agent Turner

As I eyed the computer, I spoke aloud to myself, “That guy sure has it bad for that girl. I can’t believe he’d fake his own death just to get her to his stomping grounds. That’s the furthest I’ve ever seen him go for a woman. She’ll be back, though, and if she ever needs help getting away from you, Glazov, I’ll be here.”

I just couldn’t get past the fact that a woman, who I knew would never have anything to do with the likes of Alexander Glazov, had been stripped of her choices and forced into marriage and motherhood.

As far as I was concerned, that poor girl’s life had been ruined. Why was I feeling sorry for the woman when I had no proof she even wanted out of her situation? My partner, Rene, felt no sympathy for her. She was convinced I should just leave the woman to her own devices. The violent lifestyle she and her husband lived would be their own demise. There was no stopping their sect of Bratva. In a sense, it was a necessary evil. There were other cases in need of our attention. I’d given this woman an out if she ever desired her freedom, and that would have to be enough. I would let fate decide her future and carry on with my cases here in the states. Glazov had diplomatic immunity due to his political ties, and I was fighting a losing battle on this one. I decided my partner was correct; I had done all I could and offered the woman freedom. It was up to her to decide whether or not she wanted it now.

Kathleen

I rubbed my stomach as my baby kicked inside my womb. I couldn’t help but wonder if my husband would have been disappointed if I was pregnant with a girl instead of a boy.

“What if we had found out that I was having a girl, Glazov?”

“Then we would have added a princess to our family. Will it not be fun to try and add another son and a daughter to the family after my first son is born?”

“Let’s just get through this first pregnancy,” I groaned.

“It is a boy, Ptichka. I knew he was a boy because you are too big for it to be a girl, and you are carrying him low.”

“Are you saying I’m fat?”

“No, I am not, and it would not matter anyway.” He winked as he continued talking. “We Russian men like our women big.”

“Well, don’t count on that happening. I guess I will have to come down to your gym and work it off.”

“Yes, Ptichka, we will discuss the gym later.”

I could tell by the way he cut his eyes at me that he knew I was sneaking around down there. I could only hope he didn’t know about the pictures I’d hidden.

I hated that he knew my secret about gathering Intel on him. I was the type of person who wore my emotions on my sleeve; I was an open book. He was just the opposite and never revealed his secrets until the gavel dropped. He could wait years to exact revenge on an enemy. Waiting ensured they fell under the illusion that their transgression was forgiven or, perhaps, even forgotten.

Then, when least expected, he would rise from the depths of obscurity and reveal the full magnitude of his depravity to the offender. My husband knew how to use fear to his advantage. He could manipulate and intensify fear to bend people to his will. He fed off other people’s terror like it was a delicacy to be savored.

He was revealing to me now that he knew something, yet he was concealing the extent of his knowledge. I felt a twisting in my gut and a heaviness in my chest. I knew, right then, this is what he did to his most hated adversaries. He toyed with them. Fear was his friend and darkness his most trusted companion.

Kathleen

I watched my husband beam with pride when the doctor announced he would soon be the proud father of a bouncing baby boy. He then eyed him seriously and stated we needed to be on high alert. Even by Russian standards, the baby was large. The doctor was convinced I would never carry him to full term and, even then, I would probably need a C-section.

I can’t say part of me wasn’t relieved at the thought of having a C-section. In my mind, it would keep everything tight down there, but that was probably just my paranoia talking.

I decided to wait until we got home before I informed Glazov that I wanted to return to the states to have my baby. I didn’t feel secure having my baby in a country that was foreign to me. I hadn’t even thought of the possibility of returning until this last appointment, so I hoped I hadn’t waited too long. I knew they didn’t allow women to fly too close to their delivery date.

I wondered if it was even possible for me to get out of the country. My husband had taken possession of my passport upon my arrival here. I knew why he did it; it was the same reason he did everything. He needed to maintain control.

Glazov

I breathed in deeply and then slowly exhaled, trying very hard to suppress the irritation I felt towards my wife. I swirled my chilled vodka and finished the glass off before I reached over and poured myself another.

“You continue to underestimate me, little one. You sneak around the house trying to spy on me, take pictures of my brutality, and then hide them for proof to use against me in the future. You then have the audacity to ask me if you may return to the states to give birth to my Russian son. Hmm, would you deny him his Russian heritage?”

When she attempted to answer me, I commanded silence.

“You are three weeks away from giving birth to my son, and I have every intention of fucking him from your loins tonight. Hell no, you are not taking my son out of the country! Don’t worry, he will have dual citizenship, but if you ever try to escape me and take my son from me, you will be very sorry!”

I stood and took the memory stick from my pocket as I chuckled. “Do you not realize that the authorities are well aware of how ruthless I am? I own most of them, Ptichka. I am the reason the Russian President is in office.” I knew from her expression that she had already heard the rumors.

I took another large swig of vodka and removed my clothing.

“Strip, Ptichka, and get on all fours!”

“You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

“I already told you my intentions. I want to meet my son tonight.”

I positioned my body behind my wife and made her wait, open and vulnerable to me, as I stared at her naked form.

I gently rubbed my hands over her soft ass and smacked it, eliciting a surprised, pain-filled cry.

I placed myself at her opening, stroking myself along her wetness and toying with her until she started pushing back against me. I smacked her ass again for her impatience. “You get my cock when I say you get my cock! You get fucked when I say you get fucked! You come when I say you come! I own you, Ptichka!”

Once again, I began teasing her. I barely pushed into her and then pulled out.

“You’re a sneaky little bitch, aren’t you? If I ever find out that you turned on me and went to the authorities behind my back, you will be in more trouble than you could ever imagine.”

I must have teased her too long because she finally screamed out, “Shut up and fuck me!”

I didn’t want to hurt her; I would save that for after she recuperated from giving birth. I did, however, have every intention of fucking her into labor.

I must have done something right because she woke up later that night, and we welcomed Alexander Nikita Glazov, Jr. into our world.

True to the doctor’s word, she had to have a C-section due to his size. He weighed in at an impressive twelve pounds, two ounces.

He was his father’s son in every way, and I couldn’t be more proud. I was over the moon. The Bratva legacy would continue…