Glazov's Legacy (Born Bratva Book 2) (14 page)

Agent Turner

In my line of work, no matter how hard you try to not blur the lines, it simply isn’t possible. There are going to be criminals you end up befriending no matter how much you resist, and Glazov is one of those men. He has a way of
making
you connect with him, even knowing deep down that he’s as much a criminal as the men you put behind bars.

I finger the manila envelope that was mysteriously delivered to me. It has no return address, and my suspicion that this is one of Glazov’s tactics is growing. This wouldn’t be the first time he attempted to forge an alliance with me.

Most people believe that the only interaction criminals and law enforcement have with one another is either when we arrest them, or when they’re acting as an informant for us. Our lives aren’t that cut and dry. I walk a very thin line as an agent, and throughout the years, I have managed to walk that line with honor and integrity. I plan on continuing to do so; I only hope my ironic relationship with Glazov doesn’t make that impossible.

I grab a pair of the latex gloves I always keep within reach. This time, it’s a pair from the box I keep on my desk. Anyone who has known me, for any amount of time, knows I’m a bit neurotic about always having them on hand. I keep some on my desk, in my pocket, in the glove compartment of my car, and various other places for just this reason. You never know when you’re going to come in contact with evidence.

My partner, who is my partner in more ways than one, scoots in close to sit next to me as I pop the disk into my computer. I look at her, shaking my head. Somehow, I know in my gut that this is going to bring about a string of events that I’ll have no control over. Anytime you’re dealing with someone who is disclosing another person’s wrongdoings, you have to be careful. You can’t just look at the Intel they provide and the criminals implicated. You have to investigate the person who ratted them out and figure out his motives as well. If it is Glazov, as I suspect, why would a man, who is deeply steeped in organized crime himself, gift me with incriminating evidence to bring someone to justice?

As I watch the screen, my suspicion that Alexander Glazov is the one behind the mysterious delivery is validated when I see a man being interrogated about a woman who was rescued. As cold-blooded as Glazov is, he has never hurt a woman, and he wouldn’t like it if one was being treated as badly as I assume this one was. Between what I know of him and the description the man being interrogated gives, it isn’t difficult to put two and two together. This has Glazov written all over it; though I highly doubt he executed the move by himself. I am well aware he has two sons, and chances are, at least one was involved in this little mission.

As if summoning me against my will, my phone rings, and the voice on the other end confirms, beyond all doubt, that Alexander Glazov wants me to come out and play. His accent is unmistakable, and I immediately recognize it.

“If I know you like I think I do, Agent Turner, you’re sitting there with that hot ass little partner of yours, watching a man’s head get blown off. I am sure a man with your ethics isn’t going to allow this heinous crime to go unpunished.”

“Get to the fucking point, Glazov. What’s in it for you?”

“Now, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let us savor the moment. Don’t worry, I’ll be in touch.”

With that, the line goes dead. Glazov is right though. I can’t let this crime go unreported. In fact, I have to report it by law. It has nothing to do with me being one of the good guys, and he knows that. This is a matter of Alexander Glazov wanting to play, and he’s forcing my hand to join him in his playground of dark deception.

Glazov

I smirk as I hang up the phone. This is going to be fun. I have succeeded in exactly what I wanted to do; I’ve forced Agent Turner to have ties with me. You know all this shit you hear about never ratting anyone out to the cops? It’s bullshit. In my world, it isn’t what you do; it’s why and how you do it. If you aren’t Bratva, everything is fair game—period. If you’re in the enemy’s camp, anything goes as far as taking you out.

Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I love a good mind fuck. A lot of my men have vices—smoking, liquor, women—but me… I love a good battle of wits. The more twisted it is, the better.

I am forcing Agent Turner to be a part of my life because I need him. His lily white, righteous, and very uptight nature would normally keep him from being in a gangster’s company. However, if it’s in the name of the law, he can justify hanging around the likes of me in his own mind. Ironically enough, he is the only agent I trust to do the right thing. Though manipulating his honest nature will take precision, it is the only way to obtain the results I need. He will get what he wants, fulfilling his desire to do the right thing, and I will get what I want while watching a rival gang implode.

Agent Turner isn’t a man I want on my bad side. If I succeed in doing what I have in mind, I am going to take down this little band of thugs and secure one of the top agents in the FBI as my ally. Whether Agent Turner realizes it or not, he needs me as much as I need him, so my success is pretty much guaranteed.

I push away from my desk and head toward my bedroom. I silently stalk my way inside, locking the door behind me, and I sneak into my wife’s closet. Her back is turned to me, and she’s humming as she thumbs through her clothing.

I fist a handful of her hair, slowly twisting it as I growl into her ear.

“When were you going to fucking tell me?”

“Glazov?”

“Did I give you permission to talk? Shut the fuck up! Now, be a good little girl, grab those handles on that little dressing room bench, and Bend. The. Fuck. Over!”

I slowly reach my hand around, pulling at the sash that holds her robe closed, and then flip the material over her back to reveal her ass. I kick her feet apart to spread her legs open. I still have her head pulled back by a handful of her auburn hair.

“Do you think you can just lie to me?” I snarl at her.

“Glazov?” she whimpers.

“Shut the fuck up!”

I pull at my belt, allowing my pants to drop down to my ankles, and then thrust into her in one forceful stroke; I stop. This is why I go commando—easier access whenever I want her.

“You’re wet.”

It’s clearly an accusation that she likes the things I do to her. I continue talking, knowing she will just get wetter.

“Do you think I don’t know what you’re doing? I know every move you make, Ptichka.”

I groan as I listen to the sloshing noises her body makes, and I continue talking, fucking her with long, hard strokes.

“This little fuck fest isn’t about you; it’s about me, using you.”

Yeah… she’s getting wetter. She’s as twisted as I am.

“You better not come. I’ll wear that ass of yours out if you do,” I warn her.

Just like I knew she would, her body clamps down on me as an orgasm rages through her. I time the smack on her ass perfectly, unloading inside her.

“That’s for anything you’ve done I might not know about,” I threateningly growl into her ear.

I chuckle as she struggles to nod her head despite the firm grip I still have on her hair.

She didn’t do anything wrong, and she hadn’t lied about anything either. Like I said, I like a good mind fuck. What can I say? I’m a real bastard.

Kathleen

I watch as my husband saunters to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth to clean me up. I know my man well enough to know that our little
lovemaking session
is over. It was all one of his elaborate mind fucks. After twenty years of marriage, I probably know him better than he knows himself.

Glazov likes toying with people just for sport. It’s who he is. Me? I like a good fuck, and if my husband playing around with my psyche accomplishes that, well, then so be it.

“Antonio Wayne knows Nikita is sending Sofia back, right?”

His countenance goes cold, and I know what he is going to say before he even says it.

“It isn’t Antonio Wayne you should be worried about.”

He speaks through clenched teeth. I roll my eyes before I answer him.

“Just make sure I don’t have some Colombian thug knocking on my door, looking for one of his women. Get her ass back to him, and do it quickly.”

“Not until I accomplish what I want to do.”

“And what would that be, Glazov?”

“Spurring Natasha on to make a move with our son. She’s so damn concerned about not mixing business with pleasure that she isn’t giving in to her feelings for Nikita. Those two have been in love since they were kids. They need to just hurry up and get married.”

I take a moment to look him in the face, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation to him.

“Glazov, you’re going to fuck around and get that girl killed. Natasha isn’t the kind of woman you want to make jealous.”

“If it will motivate her to stop sitting on the fence, then yes, that’s exactly what I want to do.”

“Why don’t you just talk to her instead of playing these games?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

The smirk on his face clearly communicates how amused he is.

Fucking with a hit woman of Natasha’s caliber isn’t my idea of fun. Obviously, I’m just going to have to schedule a lunch with Natasha and talk to her myself. What Glazov doesn’t know won’t hurt him. It’s none of his damn business as far as I’m concerned anyway. Some things are better dealt with up front; this is clearly one of those times. Natasha and Nikita’s relationship runs deep. They have been in love with each other since childhood. I think the fact that she has put her feelings on the back burner out of respect for Glazov and the organization shows class. Regardless of how misplaced her concerns are, they come from a good place. If she sees this woman fawning all over Nikita, I’m not convinced that she’ll be capable of maintaining the calm exterior she’s known for. I need to get on top of this, and I need to do it quickly.

Glazov grabs my upper arm, squeezing just enough to let me know I can only leave if he allows it.

“Like I said, the person you need to be worried about is me.”

He’s still on the Antonio issue. That’s the last thing on my mind right now.

“If Natasha kills Sofia, I won’t be the one having issues with the Ramirez brothers; it will be you. I don’t give a shit about Antonio. I do, however, care about Natasha. Believe me, Glazov, my hands are full with you and the boys, and now they’re really full because of this bullshit concoction of a game you’ve fabricated.”

“Yeah, I just bet they are.”

I pull away, angry that he’s not taking me seriously, and grab the jeans and top I have laid out so I can get dressed.

“I’m going to check on this woman you’re putting in between Natasha and our son. I wouldn’t want someone to get killed because of you. You’re forever playing around in people’s heads.”

“It’s in the DNA,” he yells out behind me as I leave the closet.

“So I’ve heard,” I yell back in a snarky voice.

I stomp out of the bedroom, but really, what can I do? After all, it’s just a matter of Glazov being Glazov.

I change my demeanor when I get to my son’s bedroom. The girl they rescued is sitting on the bed, and I’m relieved to see that my son is over in his office off to the side. I need to talk to him and feel him out, but I take a moment to speak with Sofia before I address him.

She looks so much different today than she looked the night they brought her in. Even though the only make-up she has on is a clear gloss on her lips, she is stunning. Her long, dark hair cascades in ringlets down to her ass, and she has beautiful, clear skin the color of creamed coffee. I can definitely see this girl turning any man’s head. It only solidifies my resolve to get her out of here quickly.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and give her a sympathetic look.

“Do you have everything you need, dear?”

“Mrs. Glazov, you have been so kind. I have need of nothing.”

I look up and see Nikita rushing into the room with a stern look on his face.

“She’s fine, Mother.”

I force a smile and turn in his direction, making certain to keep the edge from my voice despite the fact that the little shit is forgetting I am his mother.

“There are some things a woman doesn’t like to discuss with a man,
dear
. You know… personal female things?”

That seems to relax him a little, but I note that he still moves closer to her, and his tone is defensive. It’s like he knows he overreacted, but he just doesn’t care.

“She’s fine. She has everything she needs.”

Sofia nods her head and smiles, clueless to the rising tension between my son and me.

“I’m sure she does.”

I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood as I rise from the bed. Walking toward the office door, I look over my shoulder and cut my eyes at my son while crooking my finger at him. He immediately follows me, and I smile as I direct my next statement to Sofia.

“Let me know if you need anything, dear.”

I’ve already gone into the office and shut the door, so I barely hear her when she answers, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Son? Have you lost your mind?!”

I don’t give him time to answer before I continue.

“If Natasha comes into this house and sees that girl fawning all over you, she’ll kill her.”

The smirk on his face and the chuckle that escapes his mouth, make him not only look like his father, but portray the same smart-ass attitude as well.

“Maybe a little jealousy will motivate my childhood love. She needs to stop worrying about pleasing Dad so much and start worrying more about pleasing me.”

I jab my finger into his chest, having to crane my neck to look up at the man looming over me.

“You listen to me and you listen good, boy. You are playing on dangerous ground, fucking around with Natasha’s emotions. I want that girl out of here before Natasha wipes the floor with her face.”

“No, Natasha needs to get with the program.”

“I swear, you are your father’s son. I’ll deal with it myself.”

The last thing I hear as I storm out of the room, is my son’s laughter. These two are playing a very dangerous game, and I am putting a stop to it before it gets so far out of control that someone gets hurt or, worse yet, killed.