Bratva Prince (Bratva, #2)

by T.J. Maguire

“Bud' ostorozhen, syn moy,” Be careful, my son. He said in Russian, a deep sincerity lacing his voice I’d never heard before.

It also revealed she was high up in the ranks of the cartel, since he obeyed her command, not saying another word.

“If you’re gonna kill me, kill me. I’m not afraid to die. So if you’re gonna do it, hurry up. Otherwise, get the fuck out of my face.” For the briefest moment, all I could do was stare at her in shock. I could tell by the look in her eyes she was entirely serious. She wasn’t scared to die. There wasn’t an ounce of fear on her face. Just total calmness, complete ease, like this was just another day at the office.

I’d never met a woman like her. She was fearless. Even in the face of death.

And yet, none of the Bratva women I’d met had ever shown such a complete and total lack of fear. Except maybe my sister. But she was batshit crazy.

Oh, she hated me. It was obvious by the look in her eyes. But she wanted to fuck me too. And that was okay. Hate sex was fucking amazing.

The identity of the boss of the Los Zetas was some kind of well-kept secret within their organisation.

Having Aleksandr’s complete and undivided attention was the ultimate high. It made me feel powerful. Wanted. Like I was the only woman in the world.

I was ready, so ready for him to take me. Fuck me. Own me. I never needed anything more than I needed Aleksandr to make me his. To fuck me so hard it left a mark on my body and soul.

I couldn’t even begin to understand what that would be like, having the one person who was meant to always love and protect you choose someone else over you.

panic in her eyes. “Hey,” I said softly. “You’ve got this. There’s nothing you can’t do if you put your mind to it. You go to New York and show them what us Volkovs are made of.” She smiled softly. “But I’m not a Volkov anymore.” “Sestra,” Sister. I laid a hand on her shoulder in comfort. “It doesn’t matter what your last name is. You’ll always be a Volkov.”

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, we shared a connection. A deep, physical connection that was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. The attraction burning in my veins for him scared me. Actually, it terrified me. It was an all-consuming kind of attraction. The kind that flamed to life the moment we were in the same room, in each other’s orbit. We were like magnets, drawn to one another despite not knowing a damn thing about each other on a personal level.

“Fuck, I just want to mark you,” he groaned, a chunk of my skin clutched between his teeth. “I want to brand you so everyone knows who you belong to.”

“You hear me, malyshka? I’ll gut any man that tries to have what’s mine.”

“I’ll never fucking stop. You’re mine. I’m never letting you go.”

would just lift the bowl and drink out of it like a glass.

Yes, baby.

“Because I want to be the one to hurt you,” she hissed, slapping me across the face.

He caught me as I leapt into his arms. I kissed him all over, on his lips, cheek, forehead, nose. I peppered him with kisses and he scrunched up his face, laughing. I’d never seen him like this before. I liked it. He was so carefree. It was a beautiful thing to witness. “Thank you,” I breathed out, slightly overwhelmed. I still couldn’t believe he’d done this for me. Aleksandr stared deeply into my eyes. “Anything for you.”

“You’re jealous,”

“Of course I am,” he admitted with no problem whatsoever. “You think I like hearing about his hands on your body? That he knows how you taste, what you sound like when you come? You’re mine.” What the fuck had Logan said to him? His mouth descended on mine, full of want and need and passion as he kissed me deeply. Jesus, this man and his tongue! Wait, what did he just say? I ripped my mouth away. “Yours?” I echoed, licking my lips, savouring his taste. He gripped my jaw roughly. “Mine and only mine.”

“You’re mine, aren’t you Drea?”

“Tell me you’re mine.” He cupped my pussy roughly and I gasped. “That this is mine. That every inch of you belongs to me.”

How could I let her go? I needed Drea like I needed air in my lungs. Blood in my veins. Food in my belly. She was everything I needed to survive, and the thought of being without her was…unbearable.

“Here me out. I understand your worries, but that’s something that you need to face. You can’t just keep her locked up in that house forever. Not only will she likely go mad being stuck there, but the repercussions from the cartel could have drastic effects on the Bratva. You need to have faith that if you let her go, she’ll come back to you.”

there’s more to it than that for me. Being around you soothes my mind, it quiets the storm raging inside of me. It brings peace to my soul. I could be having the worst, most frustrating day and seeing your smile—yes, that smile right there—would make all my troubles just fade away.”

“Regresa a mí.” Come back to me.

“Regresa a mí,” Come back to me, I repeated,

“If I let her go, she won’t come back.”

“I understand what I need to do. I know I have to marry Anya. But I don’t want to let Drea go because if I do, she will never come back. She won’t sit idly by while I marry another woman.” “So you plan to force her to do it anyway? Force her to stay locked up in that room forever?” “Yes. If it means I get to keep her in my life, then yes.” “Even at the risk of her hating you?” “Even then.”

“You sent your brother to let me go.” She said it with an accusatory glint in her eyes, her voice taking on a threatening tone. “I did. Because if I did it myself, I wouldn’t have let you get in the car.” “Really? Why’s that?”

“You know why.” “Tell me anyway.”

“Because I love you.”

“I love you so much it hurts. It physically hurts to be without you, to not see you. To not speak to you. To think of you gone. You’ve managed to burn yourself into my mind, my soul. Branded yourself in my heart. So, now you own it.”

“Good. Because I love...

“Fuck Aleksandr, yes. Yes, baby.”