Glazov's Legacy (Born Bratva Book 2) (12 page)

“She could be your wife… after you rescue her, that is.”

I’m joking, but at the same time, I’m feeling him out too. If he finds her attractive, and she needs to be rescued, he might go along with what I have planned without any opposition. Of course, he isn’t going to realize that my intent is to make his childhood crush jealous, but hey, Natasha needs a little motivation. I don’t want to be eighty years old before I have grandchildren. These two need a little prodding in the right direction to get together, and I’m just the guy who can work behind the scenes to make it happen.

His eyes go cold.
Oh yeah, he looks just like me.

“It’s not my job to rescue women, and you, of all people, should know how I feel about Natasha.”

“Perhaps Natasha needs some incentive?”

“Natasha isn’t the kind of woman you want to provoke, Dad. Are you trying to get this woman killed? Even for you, that’s an odd concept. I’d end up rescuing her just to have Natasha kill her in a jealous rage.”

“There’s nothing like a good cat fight,” Novak interjects.

We both glare at him, and he shuts up. This is none of his concern.

I was trying to keep my plan to make Natasha jealous my little secret; so much for that! Then again, if I manipulate the circumstances correctly, it should still work.

“I’m not in the habit of rescuing women either, Nikita. I am, however, in the habit of securing my territory. These are Haitian gangbangers invading our turf, and they kidnapped the woman of one of our allies with the intent to kill her in a snuff film.”

“Which ally?”

His questioning is disrespectful, and he’s beginning to piss me off. I lean forward to get in his face.

“Boy, don’t ever forget that you work for me. I brought you into this world, and I’ll take your ass out!”

I resist a chuckle as the grown man seated in front of me regresses back to the little boy I raised.

“I’m sorry, Dad. It’s just that I don’t know this woman.”

“Let’s start this conversation again, and this time, just fucking listen to me, son.”

I stare at him before I continue, silently communicating that I don’t want to hear any arguments. When I am sure he is listening, I continue.

“A while back, Antonio Wayne and his brother, Ricardo, had a run-in with some Haitian pirates. The bastards boarded one of Antonio’s boats at sea, and they kidnapped a bunch of women he was bringing over from Colombia to work in his club. Antonio swears Colombian women are some of the most beautiful in the world.”

I reach over to retrieve my phone, and I show my son the picture of the woman again before I continue.

“Judging by the look of her, I would say he is correct in his assessment. Antonio sent his men in, rescued the women, and killed off the Haitians. Now, a different sect has come in, trying to take their place, and it looks like they’re out for vengeance. You and I both know it’s common for gangs to come in, wanting to take over territory that has been cleaned up. In our line of work, it’s a never-ending cycle; the battle over turf is always an issue.”

“I’ll do anything I can to help you, Dad. You know that.”

That is all I need to hear. My son is on board.

“That’s all for now; both of you can leave.”

I glare at Novak, daring him to say something. Evidently he got the message because he leaves with his arm wrapped around my son’s shoulder, laughing about how Nikita might be getting a wife soon. Thankfully, he is on to pestering someone besides me. I’ve had enough of his shit for one day.

I’d forgotten how much of a pain in the ass my cousin could be, and he’s wasting no time reminding me with his childish antics. More than once when we were kids, we ended up rolling around in the dirt, fighting over some shit he’d done to me. It’s odd how distance can make you forget all the bad stuff about someone. In the end, though, the bottom line is that he’s family, and I know he has my back like only family can.

Once again, I lean over to push the button on my speaker. This time, I call for my wife. I watch as she saunters in barefoot and wearing a sundress. Damn, she’s hot. I can already feel my cock getting hard for her.

I observe her as she sits on my desk and places her feet on the armrests of my office chair. She isn’t wearing any panties, so it’s clear to me that she knows exactly what she’s doing. I stand up,
pulling my wife's body close to mine, breathing in her scent. I am as in love with her today as I was twenty years ago when I first captured her against her will, blackmailing her into being mine. She is no longer my captive, but I am still a man given to stalking her every move. I am a predator, and she is my prey; that much has not changed.

She touches my bloody lip, still swollen from the confrontation with the man who owed me money. No one died, though blood had been spilled. It is another day of life to be spent with my Ptichka.

I undo my belt and pants, allowing them to fall down around my ankles, and hook my hands under her thighs to pull her toward me. By the look of her glistening folds, it’s obvious I affect her the same way she does me.

I slowly push into her, relishing the initial feel of being enveloped in her warmth. My hands wander to the top of her dress, and I pull it down so I can wrap my lips around one of her nipples. She feels so good. Taking her slow and easy, I’m making love to her rather than taking her, and it feels like coming home.

I need this. I need the reassurance that we are more than just sexually attracted to each other. I need to know that we are in love. She is, and will always be, the love of my life.

Kathleen

I eye my husband as he dresses like he’s going on a covert mission. He’s wearing camouflage clothing from head to toe, and he’s fully armed, ready for work. He has a knife strapped to his upper inner arm, a holstered gun at his chest, and a smaller firearm is secured to his ankle.

“I don’t understand why you have to go. Isn’t this what your Boyeviks do? What’s the point of having all these soldiers if you don’t use them? And who is this woman anyway?”

“One question at a time, please,” I tell her.

“Just answer me,” she insists.

“I’m not sending Nikita out by himself. That’s my firstborn son we’re talking about. The woman’s identity isn’t the issue. The issue is keeping good working relations with Ricardo and Antonio Wayne Ramirez. They’re our allies, and I’m not willing to lose them. I would think you’d be happy to know we’re rescuing a woman from imminent death.”

“What is it with the Glazovs and their need to rescue women?”

I breathe out a heavy sigh, exasperated with my husband.

“I didn’t rescue you; I blackmailed you.”

When he realizes I’m not amused, he closes in on me, running his hand over my cheek and reassuring me.

“Ptichka, we’re not going in tonight. We’re just planting surveillance so we can see exactly what we’re up against.”

“That’s just as dangerous, Glazov.”

“I promise you that I’ll come home, be in your bed, and fuck your brains out tonight.”

“Well, that’s very reassuring, love, and as usual, you’re such a sweet talker. Do you remember what you said to me the night our son was born?”

He takes one finger and lifts my chin, forcing me to look up at him from where I’m sitting on the bed.

“I told you I wanted to meet my son, so I was going to fuck him from your loins, and I did. I always do what I say I’m going to do.”

“You just make it back home alive, and bring my son
that you fucked from my loins
back with you.”

I roll my eyes at him so he knows I’m being sarcastic, but he and I both know that he better bring Nikita back home safely.

“Everyone who leaves with me will return in one piece. I’ll make sure of it. I may even bring back a woman for my son.”

“Always the romantic… but you know the only woman Nikita will ever love is Natasha. When she puts a bullet in the woman’s brain you’re rescuing tonight, how is that going to work out for you?”

He completely ignores my sarcasm when he turns to answer me.

“That’s even better. Natasha, a Russian cleaner, for a daughter-in-law? I can think of nothing I would love more than that. It’s evident Kodiak’s woman is a bit more timid in nature, and I need some female fighters to join the ranks.”

“I can assure you that by the time Kodiak is done with that girl, she won’t be timid anymore.”

“Is that what happened to you? I toughened you up?”

“I wasn’t timid when you met me.”

“You can say that again.”

“I wasn’t timid when you met me.”

“Smart-ass,” he chuckles

“And
you
can say that again, my Russian rogue.”

“I got your rogue right here.”

I watch as my husband suggestively grabs his crotch and leers at me.

“Yeah, well, just make sure to bring it back safely after you’re done hiding cameras in the big, bad gangbanger’s house.”

“I promise you, wife of mine, if anyone dies tonight, it damn sure won’t be me or anyone on my team.”

Glazov

I haven’t told my wife, but I love doing shit like this. Infiltrating the enemy’s camp, and planting surveillance right under their noses, is a fucking adrenaline rush that I love. I’ll never tire of the feeling.

We make our way into the west end area of Louisville, Kentucky. The house where the woman is being held is right next to a pool hall where I assume the other gang members must be. After all, they own it. Ricardo informed me of the details when I spoke to him. It will come in handy when I have their main headquarters blown off the map with all their members in it. We are hidden in the brush that surrounds the house, and the gang members haven’t even bothered to pull the blinds or shut the window where the woman is being held.
Dumb-asses
. Judging by the unprofessionalism I’ve already noted, it should be easy to plant the surveillance.

One of my men creeps over to peek inside one of the windows, trying to gather Intel on what we’re up against. He reports back that the bastards have her locked in a cage like an animal. She’s bound, gagged, and only has dog dishes for food and water. I know, in that moment, that I’m not going to be able to leave her here as planned. Judging by the look on Nikita’s face, he feels the same way. Those dog dishes aren’t sitting well with either of us.

I’m all about kink, but degrading a woman against her will pisses me off. No doubt, the poor girl is scared to death, and I won’t be able to look myself in the mirror if I leave her here to endure further torment. Knowing they plan to kill her in a snuff film just so sickos can watch it on the Internet makes me feel physically ill.

The new plan is for Nikita to get through the window and get the girl. We’ll make sure the one guard on duty doesn’t catch on to what we’re doing. If anybody can pick the lock on that cage, it’s Nikita. From the time he was a small boy, I have taught him all the skills he might need to confront an enemy. My sons, as well as my daughter, have been taught everything I know to prepare them for the life of violence they will live because they were born Bratva.

I creep around the side of the house and head toward the front porch. There’s only one man standing just outside the door. He’s smoking a joint and talking shit to a woman on his cell phone—so far so good. As long as I can hear his voice, I know my son is okay.

This isn’t how I planned on things going down, but knowing she’s being fed using dog dishes was just too much, even for seasoned criminal like me.

Everything is fine until the son of a bitch says he needs to go check on something. Though he doesn’t come right out and say where he is going, I’m not taking any chances. I can only hope my son has had enough time to get the girl out of that fucking cage. Seeing that nobody has sent me a text, I know I need to move quickly.

When he turns to make his way back into the house, I come up behind him, unsheathing the knife I keep on my upper arm.

“Where you going, big boy?” I hiss as I grab him around the neck.

He struggles under the tight grip of my forearm. I have two choices: I can slice his throat right now, or I can leave him at the mercy of his crew. My sadistic side wins out… There’s no doubt in my mind he’ll be killed when the girl’s escape is discovered. With surveillance set up, I will be able to watch the bastard die at the hands of his own men. These lowlifes have been kidnapping and killing women; I would love to see them pay for their crimes. Right now, though, I need to concentrate on rescuing the girl. I squeeze down on the artery that pumps blood to his brain, and he crumples to a heap at my feet.

I turn just in time to see my guys pull up in the van, and I jump in—perfect timing. We will all live to fight another day. Hell, we have even rescued the woman. She will still have to remain under our watch for a while; I’m not taking any chances that she’ll run her mouth to the authorities. I don’t want this gang of animals locked up in jail before I can see, at least, some of them dead. I know a man who will be perfect for what I have in mind because he has no desire to be indebted to me. I plan on making this work to my benefit in more ways than one. What most people don’t realize is that, depending on who is locked up, gang members can be just as dangerous behind bars as they are on the streets. The right leader can still issue orders, and their men are loyal enough to still carry out those orders on the outside. The world will be much better off without these guys in it, but I’d rather see them self-destruct than take them out myself, and it’s going to take some planning on my part to make that happen.

After seeing my plan through, I’ll eventually blow the whole lot of them up in that pool hall they own, but first, I want to watch them take apart that guard who was on duty—piece by piece. Yeah, I’m a sadistic bastard at heart.