Bratva Boss' Baby (Kotov Bratva Book 1) Page 14
Ava couldn’t share Katya’s enthusiasm. At least not yet until she managed to corner Viktor alone. She wanted to hear his answer from his only lips, to witness his response.
“When do you think I can see him?” she asked.
A shadow crossed Katya’s face. “Time’s ticking, at least for Pavel. Especially if Viktor doesn’t meet Goran’s demands.”
Ava felt selfish for forgetting Pavel had been taken. She had no choice. Ava decided she’d wait. If she told Viktor the news now, he might become distracted. Sloppy. Once Pavel was rescued, then she’d reveal to Viktor she was expecting.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The meeting with his lieutenants had been brief. Most of them sided with Aleksander. They didn’t want Viktor to willingly walk into Goran’s trap. They tried to convince Viktor to wait until they formulated a better plan. He disagreed. His brother didn’t have the luxury of time.
“I’ve already made my decision,” Viktor said. He turned to Aleksander. “How did Fernandez react to my request?”
“The product you requested is already on their way to us,” Aleksander responded. “I’m guessing you have a plan?”
“Yes, but all of you don’t need to worry. I don’t intend on dying soon, but I’ll need to convince Goran I’ve no choice but to play along. I’ll need to go to their headquarters alone.”
“I don’t like this at all, but if your mind’s made up, then let’s go through this reckless plan over again,” Aleksander suggested.
An hour later, Viktor met Fernandez’s man outside the mansion. Fernandez’s delivery guy dropped two heavy black duffel bags of cocaine at Viktor’s feet.
“Fernandez wanted me to ask you what your plans were for these bags,” the messenger said. Viktor inspected him closer. The guy was in his late twenties, dark-haired and slender as a blade, but Viktor recognized him as Fernandez’s youngest son.
“Juan, your father and I have only become allies recently, but he seems to understand me,” Viktor said.
Juan raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”
“Tell him I don’t plan to roll over and die. These gifts are my Trojan horse,” he said.
“I will tell him that.” Juan shook his hand, then the young man departed. Viktor called for his car. No driver. He was going at this alone. Viktor dumped the bags in the back seat. He was about to slide behind the wheel when he heard footsteps sounding behind him. Someone called his name. He turned, seeing Ava still dressed in her borrowed clothes, sprinting toward him.
“Ava,” he said. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
She looked slightly out of breath as she reached him. “I heard some of your men talking. Are you really going after Pavel alone?”
“Those were Goran’s conditions. I told you, didn’t I? I’m bringing back my brother alive. Besides, this is a matter of pride. I’m going to show the Mogilevichs that I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty.”
“Screw pride,” Ava blurted.
That reaction took him slightly aback. Something was wrong. Ava looked rattled. Was she that worried about him going?
“Viktor, I might be a newcomer to your world, but shouldn’t you bring backup?”
“I am, but to maintain appearances, I must go there alone. Once a certain time has passed, Aleksander and the others will make their move.” Viktor pulled her close and gave her a soft and slow kiss. It touched him deeply that Ava was still concerned about his well-being.
“You better.” She pressed the palms of her hands against his chest. “Viktor, I told Katya I’d give you the news after Pavel’s rescued, but I don’t think I can keep this secret from you any longer.”
Viktor gripped her shoulders, eyes narrowing. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I just found out this morning.” His heart dropped when Ava touched her stomach. “I’m pregnant, Viktor.”
“What? You’re certain?” He demanded, shaking her a little. Viktor shouldn’t even be so surprised. He wanted this result, didn’t he? Having a child together with Ava would seal the deal for both of them. That baby growing in her belly was a guarantee she’d stay with him.
“Yeah. Katya sent someone to get a pregnancy kit from a nearby pharmacy. I even peed on three sticks. They all said the same result. We can go to a doctor if you’d like more proof.”
Viktor shook his head. “There’s no need for that. I believe you.”
Ava was carrying his child. He could hardly believe it. Now more than ever, Viktor had to ensure his survival. He debated calling off his suicidal plan, but he couldn’t just leave Pavel to the wolves either. His father had done a shitty job in raising them. The old bastard should’ve taught them to rely on each other, not set them against each other as enemies.
“I still need to do this,” he finally told Ava.
She bit her bottom lip. Ava looked on the verge of crying, which wasn’t like her at all. Then again, his revelation about who he was and what did, combined with news of their baby, must have put a lot of stress on her.
“Be careful. Viktor, I won’t forgive you if you die. I love you.” Those last three words left her sweet lips in a fierce whisper.
Viktor couldn’t help it. He claimed her mouth, this time, not holding back. Viktor yanked at her hair, loving the ravenous way she kissed him back. Eventually, Viktor needed to pull away, to contain his emotions. He needed all his wits to survive what Goran had planned for him and his brother.
“When I return,” Viktor told her, “we’ll get married.”
“Wait. Are you proposing to me, now of all times?” Ava asked, looking stunned.
“Not asking.” Viktor pressed a finger to her lips. Ava looked like she had a retort ready for him. “I’ll see you soon, wife.”
Viktor got inside his Mercedes and drove off the property. If he stayed there any longer, he knew he wouldn’t have the heart to leave the woman carrying his child.
Chapter Twenty-Three
As Viktor drove to his potential execution site, a memory he’d almost forgotten came back to him. That of his mother taking Pavel and him aside. Both Viktor and his brother just had an argument. Viktor nursed a black eye. Boys will be boys. Fighting builds character. Those were the word his father had said. His mother had different advice.
“Once your father and I are gone, you two only have each other,” she had said. “Two of you against the world, and you still want to fight each other?”
Viktor didn’t know how he was able to conjure up that hazy memory. Maybe it was because he needed to hear those words. He entered a graffiti-scrawled neighborhood, drove to the end of the road, and parked his car in front of a former candle-making factory. Viktor’s personal hacker had done some research about the building. Abandoned in the 1980s by its original owner, the Mogilevich Bratva purchased it five years later. Today, Goran made it the center of his drug distribution business.
Two of Goran’s men watched Viktor with narrowed eyes as he exited his vehicle. One musclebound gangster approached, keeping his rifle trained on Viktor’s head.
“What are you doing?” Mr. Hotshot demanded.
“I’ve presents for Goran. Come see.” Viktor opened the trunk, revealing the duffel bags. Mr. Hotshot poked the barrel of his gun between his shoulder blades, annoying Viktor slightly.
“Open it,” the goon ordered.
Viktor didn’t take well to commands. He’d gotten used to issuing them, but he reeled in his flaring temper. Disarming this asshole and putting a bullet between his eyes wouldn’t help anyone, least of all his brother. He unzipped one of his bags and showed the goon the cocaine inside.
“See?” Viktor said. “You want to check the other bag?”
“Billy, come over here,” ordered the goon. “Check the bags, then take all his weapons.”
While Mr. Hotshot kept his gun trained on Viktor, his accomplice looked through Viktor’s bag.
“Damn, this is high-quality product,” Billy said, licking his lips. Billy held out one baggi
e to the light and whistled. “Not the shit our sellers peddle on the street but the stuff Goran and his lieutenants snort.”
“Don’t you fucking dare sample it,” Mr. Hotshot snapped.
“I wasn’t, Bernard. I swear.” Billy zipped the bag closed and raised his hands, a mocking gesture.
Bernard scowled. “Let’s just get on with this. Pat him down.”
Viktor patiently let Billy take his weapons. The bastard didn’t miss anything. He even took the slender blade Viktor had strapped to his ankle. Damn it. Viktor had hoped Billy would miss something. Bernard shoved his gun into his back and said, “Pick up your bags, then move. Billy, stand guard. I won’t be long. Dibs on his car.”
“His car?” Billy looked confused, then looked over at Viktor’s ride. He didn’t seem to be the brightest build in the shed.
“Viktor Kotov won’t be leaving here alive.” Bernard let out a chuckle.
Viktor clenched his jaw, tempted to snatch his gun and beat him bloody with it. Calm down, he reminded himself. It was a hard feat to do, considering these lowlifes were already deciding who would have his car.
“No fair,” Billy grumbled.
“Enough chitchat. I want to see my brother,” Viktor said coldly.
“Oh, you’ll join him soon.” Bernard led him inside the factory at gunpoint. Viktor walked where he was told. The factory floor was busy with activity. Product was weighed and repackaged with quick hands. Managers walked around the packaging areas, shouting orders.
“Downstairs,” Bernard said.
Viktor paused, looking at the concrete stairs that led to a basement. Another irritating shove from Bernard got him moving. He descended into the barely lit abyss. The door was opened. A scream slipped out, ragged and desperate. Viktor knew that voice. Bernard and Viktor entered the room where his brother was being tortured. Viktor mentally prepared himself for what he’d find.
“Ah, Viktor. Finally nice of you to join us,” Goran said.
When they last met, Goran had been wearing a tailored suit. Today, Goran was bare-chested, wearing only an old pair of jeans. Viktor didn’t miss the skinning knife he held in his left hand. He finally looked at Pavel. His brother’s wrists were chained to a hook on the wall. More chains secured his ankles to the oily floor. Pavel’s top was gone. Knife cuts crisscrossed his arms, chest, and face. Viktor avoided a grimace. It seemed Goran had one purpose in mind—keeping Pavel alive as long as he could. Viktor couldn’t see any stab marks, any critical injuries.
That gave him some measure of hope. Pavel would survive this, even if some scars would remain. Viktor’s father raised Pavel and him to be survivors.
Pavel raised his lowered head and stared at him in shock. “You bastard. Why did you come back for me? You should’ve left me here to die. I didn’t tell these assholes anything. I’ll take our secrets to the grave.”
Viktor had no doubt Pavel would keep his word. Despite their differences in personality, the Kotov Bratva was everything to them.
“I come bearing gifts,” Viktor said, ignoring his brother for a moment. He dropped the bags. Goran wiped his bloody knife with a handkerchief and looked at Bernard.
“High-grade cocaine,” Bernard confirmed. “Nothing suspicious inside.”
“You can return to your post,” Goran said.
Bernard left. Viktor silently counted the other men in the room. Four. Five, including Goran. Viktor didn’t have his weapons on him. Pavel was tied up and hurt. The odds didn’t look so good.
“Your brother’s right, you know,” Goran said, walking up to him. “You shouldn’t have come. Viktor, you should know better than anyone that I don’t make bargains with my enemies. I only deal with them one way.”
Goran closed his hand into a fist. He aimed it at Viktor’s ribs, but Viktor didn’t intend to take defeat lying down. He moved aside at the last second, then grabbed Goran’s face with both hands. Surprise registered on Goran’s face for a second, then Viktor shoved his head against Goran’s. Apparently, Viktor had a thick skull. He took advantage of Goran’s momentary disorientation to deliver a punch to his gut. Goran gasped. Viktor tackled Goran to the ground, grabbing the knife Goran dropped. Goran stilled, hatred burning in his eyes as Viktor pressed the sharp blade against his throat.
Viktor’s victory didn’t last long. Goran’s men ran forward, drawing their guns at him.
“You idiots, don’t shoot!” Goran yelled, furious. “One of you point your guns at his brother.”
Viktor didn’t take his gaze off Goran, but he knew one of Goran’s men had obeyed his order. Pavel let out a grunt of pain.
“What’s your next move, dickhead?” Goran sneered at him. “Give up. You and your brother will leave here as corpses. What did you imagine going down? You valiantly rescuing your brother and killing me off at the same time?”
“That’s the problem with you, Goran. You lack imagination,” Viktor said with a scoff. “And you’re weak. Without your men, I would have already gutted you like a fish.”
Goran laugh. “Go ahead, Viktor. Insult me some more. I think I’ll keep you alive for months. At the end of it all, you’ll be begging me for mercy.”
“I’m the one holding the knife to your throat,” Viktor reminded him.
“Hurt me and your brother dies,” Goran said with a sneer.
“So what? Like you said, Pavel and I are walking dead men. You seem to have the impression I came here to take him back. What I really want is your head. Doesn’t matter if Pavel and I both die.” Viktor delivered those words with a smile.
Viktor was lying his ass off, but Goran didn’t know that. He promised his brother he would live. Besides, Viktor now had plenty to lose. Ava. His unborn child. They were depending on him, but Goran knew none of those things. It helped Pavel let out a broken, humorless laugh.
Goran paled. The other Bratva boss started to sweat profusely. Viktor could practically smell his fear. He didn’t need to look at his surroundings to know Goran’s men started to grow uneasy. “You crazy suicidal bastard.”
“You underestimated me.” Viktor shook his head. “You should’ve ordered your men to hold me down while you beat me up. Look at you now, completely under my mercy.”
Goran’s breathing turned harsh. The bastard tried to land a kick at him, but Viktor only answered by kneeing Goran in the groan. Goran cried out pathetically. His men tensed, clearly unsure of what to do.
“There’s more of my men upstairs,” Goran told him with a sneer after he recovered from his shock. “They’ll come barging down here any moment. They’ll shoot you and your brother dead.”
“By that time, I would’ve managed to slit your throat,” Viktor said calmly. He pressed the blade further into Goran’s neck. Goran let out a stream of curses. When Viktor didn’t go any further, Goran suddenly looked contemplative. Shit. Had Goran finally seen through his bullshit?
“Then why haven’t you?” Goran asked. Knowledge filled Goran’s narrowed eyes. Viktor’s heart dropped. “You’re up to something. Buying time, maybe? I’m done with this. Shoot his fucking brother dead.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ava watched Viktor driving away from the second-floor bedroom. Unease settled in the pit of her stomach. Viktor told her not to worry, that he’d eventually come back for her and their unborn child. Had he been lying? A knock on her door made her jump. Ava wasn’t sure she’d ever become used to living in the Kotov mansion. Katya poked her head in the room.
“I’m about to drive Anya to preschool. Want to tag along? We can have breakfast after,” Katya said.
It sounded like a tempting offer. Ava could pretend to be normal again for a few hours, but was that what she truly wanted? Viktor had been true to his word. His men had already transferred the entire contents of her studio apartment back to her mansion. Even her work computer had been brought here. Ava thought she could do some work to distract herself, but she was wrong. She had trouble focusing. Her mind was everywhere.
“Would Viktor
’s men let us?” Ava asked, finally taking her gaze away from the window. Viktor’s car had long disappeared from sight. Her worry only continued to mount. She couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that had enveloped her. The boss is suicidal, she’d overheard one of Viktor’s men saying earlier.
“Well, we’d have bodyguards with us. They’ll be unobtrusive as possible. You’ll barely notice they’re there,” Katya said, tone apologetic. Seeing the wary expression on her face, Katya walked to her. “Ava, you’re carrying Viktor’s child. Of course, Viktor ordered his men to guard you with their lives.”
Hearing Russian voices and rumbling car engines, Ava peered out the window again. She frowned. Another car was parked in the driveway. She recognized Aleksander. He was handing assault rifles to two of his men. Two duffel bags lay at their feet, and Ava didn’t need to be a genius to know more guns were in there.
“A change of scenery would do you some good,” Katya said, joining her by the window. “We can even do some window shopping after that.”
“What’s happening?” Ava interrupted. She didn’t mean to be rude. It was clear Katya was trying to distract her, but it wasn’t working. “I don’t know much about guns, but that’s some serious weaponry they’re packing.”
Katya sighed. “Viktor told you he had a plan, yes?”
Ava nodded. Then she understood. “Oh. So, Viktor only pretended to go alone to the Mogilevich Bratva’s headquarters but in reality, he has backup?”
Hope kindled in her chest. Ava kept imagining Viktor being shot full of bullets or worse, tortured slowly until he was barely coherent. Damn him for worrying her endlessly like this.
“There’s just one problem with his plan,” Katya said. She looked troubled, and that didn’t sit quite right with Ava.