Ballerina for the Bratva: A Russian Mafia Romance Novel

  BALLERINA FOR THE BRATVA

  A Russian Mafia Romance Novel

  By

  Maura Rose

  TNA Publishing

  Ballerina for the Bratva © 2019 by Maura Rose

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously; any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design © Ran Designs

  First Edition July 2019

  Chapter One

  Alexei Vanin stood over the body of what had once been his father. It wasn’t, anymore, it was just a body. A pile of dead matter. That had been what Father had taught him as a young man, when Alexei had been introduced to the darker side of the family business.

  “You do not need to fear the dead,” Father had told him. “They’re nothing. It shouldn’t bother you any more than a table or a chair.”

  It was so odd, to look down at something that had once been full of life. That had been the center of Alexei’s world since the moment he was born. His father wasn’t there anymore. This was just… a shade.

  Mother stood beside him. She was carrying on as a proper bratva wife should, dignified and no great show of tears and emotion. He had no doubt that she would be crying, in the privacy of her bedroom. Father was a good man and a good husband—Alexei had cried as well, when he’d gotten time alone after hearing the news.

  But it wasn’t proper to show it at a funeral.

  Everyone was very solemn. There were rumors that Father had been murdered, which Alexei could understand. He had died rather suddenly. It was why he had an open casket funeral. He wanted everyone to see the lack of bullet holes, the fact that there were no signs of poisoning.

  Sometimes a heart attack was just a heart attack.

  Now everybody would see that it had been natural causes, and all would be well. Everyone in the family tended to get nervous when a bratva leader died. The shift of power from one head to another, the heir taking over, was always a little uneasy. But if people suspected foul play, that someone had tried to make a grab for the throne or was trying to weaken the family, it would be all that much harder for Alexei to secure his own leadership as the new head.

  All the lieutenants and heads of their allied families walked up to the coffin, showing their respect and giving their condolences. Alexei knew that a lot of the time, this sort of thing was for show. Everyone would secretly be glad that the head was gone, and scheming to take advantage of the temporary power vacuum.

  But he was lucky. He’d had a father who was a good man and a good leader. A man with propriety, or at least the odd sort of propriety that worked for their darker world. A man who did good business and kept with traditions, a man with class and honor. When people came up to give condolences, Alexei could see the genuine respect in their eyes.

  “You will have large shoes to fill,” Mother noted quietly as people finished filing past.

  It had never been clearer to Alexei than in that moment just how large those shoes were. He was in charge now. It was his job to make sure that respect stayed in the eyes of those men. That their feelings of camaraderie and appreciation transferred from Father to Alexei.

  “I understand, Mother,” he replied, just as quiet.

  Mother nodded, just the once. “We should proceed.”

  The rest of the funeral wasn’t a blur, exactly. More like… he was floating through it all, not truly connecting. His heart wasn’t in it. His father was gone, and he didn’t want to think about it anymore than he had to. All his life he’d had his father to guide him and support him and now that was all gone. The weight of the entire family was on him now.

  Mother noticed, because of course she did. Her pregnancies had been long and complicated, and Alexei knew of at least one sibling he’d had who had been stillborn. Alexei knew that was why she focused so much on him, was so protective of him—her only child. The only heir.

  He’d used to dislike it when he was younger, but now he appreciated it. He needed someone he could rely on, someone he could just be Alexei with instead of Boss Vanin.

  “You handled that all very well,” she told him when they finally got home.

  It was probably expected that he be out drinking with everyone else in celebration of his father’s full life. But Alexei couldn’t bring himself to celebrate. Not just yet.

  “I just tried to do what would make Father happy,” Alexei replied.

  Mother went straight to the kitchen. She had always insisted on continuing to do things herself, even as her husband rose to power and prominence in Russia’s underworld. “I think that you succeeded.”

  She got down ingredients for coffee, as if reading Alexei’s mind and knowing that he wasn’t in the mood for alcohol tonight. “He had faith in you, Sasha. He knew you would do well.”

  “I don’t feel ready,” Alexei confessed, sitting down at the kitchen table. He stared at his hands, hands that now—metaphorically—held an empire in their hands. “I feel like I still had too much to learn from him. I thought I still had time.”

  “We always think that we have more time. Time to be healthier, time to find love, time to apologize…” Mother shrugged, brewing the coffee. “It’s the way of the world. But you have always underestimated yourself, Alexei. You will be able to handle this.”

  Alexei accepted the mug of coffee she handed to him, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent. “I need to go to the states.”

  Mother hummed in acknowledgment. Alexei knew what that meant—she had a thought but didn’t want to say it out loud. “What is it?”

  “Some might view that as running away.”

  “I have to strengthen our position with our cousins across the ocean. If we’re not strong with them then that’s half of our shipping gone. They’ll be nervous now that a new person is in charge.”

  “Why don’t you strengthen your position here and go later?” Mother suggested.

  “If I don’t act quickly, it could get out of hand. They’re far away, I need to go in person, let them see that I have it all under control, establish myself.”

  “I admire that, I do. I just don’t want you to lose your position here while you’re gone. Things are different in the states. We’re more set in our ways here.”

  “I’m sure I can handle myself,” Alexei assured her, sipping his coffee. Father had sent him on missions like this all the time. Not on this scale, sure, but the method was the same. He could even pretend, perhaps, that he was being sent by Father, that he was still only the heir instead of the head.

  Mother placed her hand on his head, smiling at him fondly. His mother had always been a beautiful woman, even now that she was older, with her pale gold hair and deep blue eyes—eyes she’d passed onto her son. She still held onto that dignity that Father had always said drew him to her.

  “Would you like me to look after things while you’re gone?” she asked, teasing.

  Alexei took her hand, smiling. “I would like you to keep an eye on the accounts for me. But I trust Nikolai and Ivanovich. They’re good men, loyal to my father.”

  “I have always thought so,” Mother replied, squeezing his hand and then slipping away to get herself her own cup of coffee.

  Alexei thought he heard a trace of… something, in his moth
er’s voice. He might even call it bitterness.

  But the moment was gone before he could think on it too much. Mother turned to him, smiling mischievously. “Don’t go getting into too much trouble while you’re away, that’s all I ask.”

  Alexei chuckled. “What kind of trouble?”

  “You never know what you might run into over there. You might even finally find yourself a girl, at last.”

  Alexei grimaced. He knew it was important for him to marry. He was twenty-nine, and most of his contemporaries had been married for a few years by now. And since he was in charge and needed an heir, it was more important than ever.

  But he had yet to find a woman who’d held his attention, and he doubted he’d find one in the United States, either. “I’m sure I’m in no danger of that, Mother.”

  Mother just smiled knowingly and shrugged. “Whatever you say, Sasha.”

  Chapter Two

  First. Second. Third. Fourth. Fifth.

  First. Second. Third. Fourth. Fifth.

  Janet Wong breathed in and out deeply, to the rhythm of the barre exercises.

  It was late—the other girls were all asleep, or out partying. But she hadn’t gotten to where she was by sitting on her laurels. She still practiced every night on top of the practices and rehearsals they had throughout the day.

  The exercises were as easy as sleepwalking by now, but Janet didn’t let her mind wander. The basics, her teachers had always taught her. The basics are the foundation on which you build your art. If you cannot do the basics, then there’s no point in trying to do anything else.

  That was especially important now—now that auditions were coming up.

  Ferris had announced her intention to direct Swan Lake, and rumor had it that if she found a good enough dancer, she’d let them play both the white and the black swan. Janet knew she was one of the best in the troupe but she was only one. There were other dancers that were just as good as she was.

  Now she had to be better. She had to stand out beyond a shadow of a doubt. She’d always loved Swan Lake and this role was the iconic, the ultimate, for any ballerina.

  “I should have known you would be here.”

  Janet turned to see Sofia, one of the other dancers, standing in the doorway.

  “You know it’s almost midnight, right?” Sofia pointed out, walking in. “You need sleep.”

  “I need to be perfect,” Janet replied. Dance was all she had—all she had worked for, what her parents had put in a lot of sacrifices for. Without that, what was she?

  Sofia leaned against the barre, watching as Janet started her jetés. “You’re not going to get any better than you were yesterday by staying up.”

  “I did this every day, you know,” Janet replied.

  “I know, I’ve seen you. And everyone knows how hard you work.” Sofia took her arm before Janet could go into another jump. “C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

  Janet held in her sigh. She knew that she wasn’t going to get anywhere with Sofia. The other woman was Russian, and had trained in Moscow. If she was telling Janet it was time to quit, then it was probably time.

  “You should go out,” Sofia noted as Janet gathered her things.

  “I don’t like bars.”

  “I know you don’t, I just meant out in general. Do something other than dance. Dance is important but it’s not your whole life, you need balance. Who knows, you might actually make friends. Even a boyfriend, but let’s not get too crazy.”

  Janet rolled her eyes fondly. “I have friends, I have you guys.”

  “I meant friends outside of the troupe, Janet.”

  She knew what her friend meant. But she didn’t see the problem. If she liked dance, if that was what she cared about, then why did she have to try and find anything else? Her life wasn’t empty or unsatisfied.

  Sofia gave her a look out of the corner of her eye, as if she was reading Janet’s mind but choosing not to say anything. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the auditions.”

  “All right. Sleep well.”

  “You too. And actually sleep, don’t try and turn your apartment into a barre room.”

  The dancers all had small apartments and usually shared—Janet was rooming with Vicky. Even if she’d wanted to do that, Vicky would strangle her with the straps of her leotard for waking her up in the middle of the night.

  Janet let herself into her apartment quietly. In the stillness and the darkness, she could see her side of the room, and then Vicky’s. Vicky had pictures all over her wall, and twinkle lights strung like garlands, and little decorations.

  Her side of the room had a couple pictures of her parents, and her with the other girls in the barre room or after a performance, and a poster of Misty Copeland.

  Not exactly warm and inviting.

  All right, so maybe Sofia had a point about this ‘all dance no play’ thing.

  But what else could fill her life? Everything she’d worked up for had been dance. There hadn’t been room for anything else, not for the Chinese daughter of two immigrants. She’d had to be better than the best to get anywhere.

  She’d audition for Swan Lake. That was her goal. And after that… she’d think about what Sofia had said. But she had time to figure out the other ways she could fill her life besides dance.

  She still had time.

  Chapter Three

  Alexei wasn’t fond of the United States. Sometimes he felt like he was the only one who wasn’t seduced by the ‘new’ feeling of it, by the glitz and glamor. He much preferred his homeland, even with all of its faults.

  But it was necessary, and fine for a trip. He always appreciated seeing the local art productions, if nothing else, and the museums. And there was less of a chance that he’d get stabbed in the back—literally—like he might if he went to Italy or Japan.

  There was plenty to do here in the States. Father had alliances with several families, including the Sokolovs and the Mikhailovs. It had been, way back in the day, that the families in new countries reported back directly to their bosses back in the motherland, but it wasn’t that way anymore. Now it was alliances, families working together on either side of the Atlantic.

  It made things easier and more complicated at the same time. Which seemed to be how everything in the world worked, if you asked Alexei. On the one hand, he didn’t have to spend time monitoring everyone across an ocean. But on the other hand, he had to play nice and respect that the families in the States were just as powerful as his own, or he could lose their alliances and find himself limited in his operations.

  He was staying at the house of Ivan Sokolov, the head of his family, while in the States. Ivan’s driver picked him up at the airport and drove him straight to the house, where he was greeted like an old friend.

  Alexei was a bit excited, although he tried to hide it. Father had sent several trusted men over to America years ago to help with relations and strengthen their positions, including Mikhailov, and he wanted to catch up with them and learn more about what his father had been like in his youth.

  He didn’t want to sound like he was just there to reminisce, though, so he kept it to himself. He was the head of the family now and business had to come first.

  Ivan Sokolov greeted him warmly. They were about the same age, which was a relief. Alexei felt like the youngest by far back in Russia.

  “How was the flight?” Ivan asked, showing him his room and letting Alexei set down his luggage.

  “Ah, fine, I slept for most of it.”

  “If you’re well rested, I have standing tickets to the ballet,” Ivan said. “I was thinking as a proper welcome we could go, and meet some of the other families that attend. It’ll be a good social setting to introduce you.”

  “Sure.” Alexei had grown up with an appreciation for ballet. It was practically a requirement for being Russian. He doubted that anyone would be as good as the Bolshoi but, still, it would be fun.

  “They’re debuting Swan Lake,” Ivan said, leading Alexei downstairs i
nto the kitchen for dinner. “I hear it’s a new ballerina taking the lead, and she’s playing both the white and the black swan.”

  “A challenging role,” Alexei acknowledged. “And with a newer dancer?”

  “She’s not new, exactly, but this is her first big role as the prima ballerina. I’ve heard good things about her though, and she’s been featured in previous productions.”

  “I hope she’s up to the task, then.”

  Kate, Ivan’s wife, came in with their baby boy in her arms. Alexei shook her hand—he’d heard through the grapevine that Kate was practically the co-leader with Ivan and that he had great respect for her and listened to her advice. Alexei didn’t want to piss her off, and decided he should just treat her the way he would treat Ivan.

  “Congratulations on the baby,” he added, gesturing towards the child. “How old is he?”

  “He’s six months old,” Kate said proudly. “And thank you. We were looking forward to this for ages.”

  “You’ll need to get yourself an heir soon,” Ivan pointed out, sitting down at the head of the table. “I know it feels like we’re back in the 16th century or something, but I can imagine things are even stricter back in Russia.”

  Alexei snorted. “You got that right.”

  “You should check out some of the daughters here,” Kate said. “It would be a good alliance.”

  It was a thought, but Alexei’s family was powerful. Father had worked had to ensure that. He didn’t really need to marry to secure an alliance and he liked to think he’d marry for love, and not for any other reason. If someone needed to marry to secure his place in the underworld then Alexei wasn’t judging him, but it wasn’t what he preferred for himself. He wanted to make it on his own wit and leadership.

  “It’s something to consider,” he replied when he realized that Ivan and Kate were waiting for his response.

  “No pressure,” Ivan added quickly. “You’re going to be hearing that enough from people back home, we don’t want to add to that.” He winked and started to tuck into the food. “Sort out the rest of your business first, then look for a wife. It’s not like you need to worry about losing your business.”