Beholden to the Bratva: A Russian Mafia Romance Novel Read online

  Lina entered, carrying a tray on which sat the bottle of vodka and six lowball glasses. They looked freshly polished. Viktor wouldn’t have been surprised if Darius gave them a quick wipe-down himself before sending Lina on her way. The poor man was practically bending over backwards to accommodate Bogdan.

  Personally, Viktor didn’t see the wisdom in crushing Darius like this. The food in the restaurant was good and Darius was far from the kind of man to snitch on them. Why not pay all his bills and make the place an official front? They were his only customers at this point, after all.

  Viktor watched Lina pour the drinks and distribute them. She moved with a quiet grace, the kind that comes when one is moving quickly but with such skill and smoothness that one appears to be moving quite slowly. Seeing her move so easily and gracefully made him wonder what it would be like to have her moving against him, around him.

  He caught Vladimir watching Lina as well, the lust undisguised on his face. It made Viktor feel ashamed of himself. How could he claim jealousy or anger towards Vladimir when he, Viktor, was thinking the exact same things? He had no claim to think of Lina that way, any more than Vladimir did.

  Viktor schooled his face into something more placid, doing his best to ignore Lina as she moved around the table and began to distribute small plates of sliced pickles, smoked meats, and olives.

  Bogdan raised his glass, and even though he had not said a word or made a noise, everyone hurried to do the same.

  “To health!” Bogdan said, raising his glass a little higher.

  Viktor raised his glass and saw the others do the same, drinking when Bogdan did. The alcohol burned, but Viktor was used to it. He’d been drinking vodka for years. Probably sooner than his mother would have liked. He then dared to cast a glance over at Lina. She was standing to the side, her face down, probably trying to go unnoticed.

  His father, however, was not an unobservant man. He gave Lina a cool, casual smile—the dangerous one.

  Lina caught sight of it. How could she not. She picked up her glass, and Viktor saw that flash of fire for a moment in her blue eyes before she raised the glass up. “Your health,” she said. Her voice was soft and sweet, but he knew what he had seen in that instant. Lina may have toasted to his father’s health, but she wished for the opposite.

  Truth was, Viktor couldn’t exactly blame her.

  Lina made to go after that, but his father held up a hand. “No, stay. We are not finished toasting yet. One more round, I think?”

  Viktor frowned, watching as Lina filled up the glasses. What the fuck was his father playing at? He didn’t usually stand on such ceremony. You came, you talked business, and that was that. No sense in standing there patting yourself on the back while some idiot goes and steals your business, Viktor had heard Bogdan say more than once.

  It could only be an intimidation tactic, something to make Lina upset.

  Once all of the glasses were filled, everyone dutifully picked up their glasses, Lina included this time. She wore the mask of hospitality well, Viktor thought. Even he, who watched her far more closely than the others, probably had very little idea of what was going on behind that beautiful face.

  “To business!” Bogdan said. He gave Lina a rather pointed look. Was that meant to convey a particular message to her? Or was he simply warning her to take her drink and toast with the rest of them?

  Everyone repeated him. “To business.” Lina drank when the others did, and Viktor felt a little rush of pride that she handled the vodka well.

  “Is that all, gentlemen?” Lina asked afterwards. “I can leave the bottle, if you’d like.”

  “Yes, that will be all, for now,” Bogdan said. Vladimir looked like he wanted to say something but Bogdan shot him a look that said very plainly shut up.

  Viktor tried to disguise his sigh of relief. God knew what Vlad had planned on saying. Keeping Vlad around was one of the many business decisions that Viktor was struggling to understand the past few years. Did his father want to be seen as the dregs of the Russian mafia? Did he have no sense of class?

  “Very well then,” Lina said. “Your orders will be ready momentarily, gentlemen. Until then I hope that you enjoy your drinks and tasters. Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything.”

  There was a smile on her face, but Viktor saw that fire creeping back into her eyes and knew that while she said not to hesitate, what she really meant was don’t bother me unless your asses are on fire, and maybe not even then.

  He had to look down quickly to hide his smirk. The people who knew what kind of business they were into tended to be afraid of them. To see someone who not only knew but was unafraid was novel and, he thought, rather brave.

  Lina turned to go, and the movement caught his eye. He looked up again, and saw that Lina was looking at him. She had caught him smirking. He hoped that she hadn’t thought he was being condescending—but then he saw the blush rising to her cheeks.

  Perhaps his wayward crush wasn’t completely unrequited.

  Lina seemed to realize he was catching her blushing. She colored even more, quickly averting her eyes, and then hurried out the door.

  ***

  His father immediately began conducting business as usual, as if that strange little extra toast hadn’t even occurred. As always, Ivan advocated for a more violent method, and as always, Viktor found himself on the opposite side.

  He just didn’t understand why they had to do things so violently. Yes, they were criminals. There was no getting around that. But violence had to be carried out carefully. It needed to be calculated, just like expense reports. If you were known as a crazy bastard who’d shoot people for no reason, then nobody was going to work with you. You were seen as a liability, someone that no truly self-respecting boss would deal with. If his father truly wanted to become one of the greats in the Russian mob circles—or any organized crime circle—then why did he continue to endorse practices that made them look like brutish thugs or the Harlem gangs who engaged in shoot ups every weekend? Not to mention, such practices ran the risk of drawing the attention of law enforcement. Viktor would never understand running that risk.

  Viktor knew that his opinions weren’t exactly… appreciated, by his father. Bogdan saw it as coming far too close to questioning his hard-won authority. Viktor didn’t mean to usurp his father. He had no interest in running the operation, thanks very much—and he knew that Ivan wasn’t about to let him so much as put a toe in the direction of leadership. So, unless someone popped a cap in Ivan, he was good to go.

  Good luck to anyone who tried that one.

  But his father didn’t see it as merely finding ways to improve their operation. He saw it as insubordination. Viktor did his best to pick his battles and choose his words. He made extra effort to always remember his place, not only in this business but in this family.

  He was in the middle of arguing with Ivan that if you injure a worker too severely all you did was lose an employee and then you had to go out and find new ones, idiot, and contrary to popular belief men willing to haul crates for the syndicates were not a dime a dozen… when a knock came at the door again.

  It was a much harder knock than the last one. “Come in,” Bogdan said.

  Viktor tried to swallow his disappointment when he saw Darius, and not Lina, wheeling in the cart with the food. If he were Darius he wouldn’t let men like this anywhere near his daughter (or his son, for that matter), but he couldn’t deny the twinge of regret in his chest. Lina was a breath of fresh air.

  “Ah, Darius,” Bogdan said. He sounded especially jovial, and that put Viktor on high alert. Bogdan never sounded jovial unless someone else was about to get it. “Come in, come in! And close the door behind you, please.”

  Darius did as he was told. Unlike his daughter, Darius seemed completely under Bogdan’s thumb. He all but bowed, keeping his head down and hurrying to please his guests. It made Viktor’s stomach churn. Their people should be eager to serve them because they knew they
were being taken care of. They should be inspiring loyalty. Not fear so strong it made hands shake. Servitude spawned from fear seemed unreliable compared to that which came from respect and loyalty.

  “And where has your lovely daughter gotten to?” Bogdan asked. Viktor wasn’t sure if that comment was to taunt Viktor, or to taunt Darius. Probably both.

  Darius continued setting the plates down in front of everyone, as if the question didn’t bother him. “I have her making pastry dough in the kitchen. I thought the least that I could do would be to offer you a complimentary dessert, my friends.” He finished setting down the plates and spread his arms wide, smiling.

  Bogdan’s joviality flipped around into a cold, hard stare. “Yes, I should say that it is the least you could do, seeing how much you still owe us… my friend.”

  Viktor could see Darius swallow. “Bogdan, my good sir, please. Your generosity has been truly amazing. But nobody comes to eat out! These swanky new places, and with the recession… I can barely afford to keep this place open as it is. I will get you your payments, I swear. I only ask for some patience.”

  Bogdan gave a harsh laugh. “You have failed to pay me a single penny in months, Darius. For the sake of our long friendship, I have kept silent. Your food is quite good as well. As for the staff…” He winked, letting Darius know exactly how pleasant he found Lina. Viktor clenched his hand into a fist under the table. Lina had literally done nothing. There was no reason to bring her into this, except to strike more fear into Darius.

  Fear wasn’t going to make money materialize out of thin air. If Darius wasn’t getting customers, then he wasn’t going to be able to pay. Simple as that.

  “Your account is delinquent,” Bogdan went on. “And I’m sure I needn’t tell you what happens if your account is delinquent with the Sokolov Bratva.”

  Darius began to flounder. “Please, Bogdan—I promise you, I will pay you back. I will find a way. Please, just a little more patience. Just a little.”

  “And how many times have you said this to me, hmm?” Bogdan gave a heavy sigh, as if this pained him, though Viktor knew the opposite was true. His father took great pleasure in watching others squirm. “I would hate to see our long friendship hurt over business matters, but if you don’t pay up, we will have to take something from you to make up for the debt. And it is a very great debt, as you know. It would require something of great value to make up for the loss.” He clucked his tongue. “I should hate for you to lose something that you love, again, over money.”

  Darius blanched, and Viktor dug his fingernails so hard into his palms that he could feel a warm trickle of blood start up. His father could only mean Lina. There was nothing else he could possibly be referring to.

  “I understand,” Darius stuttered. “Yes, I understand, perfectly—I will have the money to you soon. Please, enjoy your meal—on the house, of course, gentlemen.”

  He backed out of the room as fast as he could, as if Bogdan would keep him prisoner there forever if he hesitated another moment. Viktor watched him go, ignoring his father’s ugly laugh. Something had to be done about this. His father had to see reason about this matter.

  It almost didn’t matter whatever desire Viktor had for Lina. She was an innocent woman in all of this. He had no problem dealing with another criminal, whatever their gender, but Lina shouldn’t have to be the one to suffer because of her father’s mistakes and Bogdan’s machinations. Viktor needed to change his father’s mind.

  Lina’s safety hung in the balance.

  Chapter 3: Lina

  Lina focused on rolling the dough underneath her hands. In the past she’d always found the physical work of it and the feel of the smooth sticky dough soothing—but not today.

  There was a charged air among the men that day. Or, at least, from their leader, Bogdan. They were dangerous men. Lina had always known that. But she had never before felt that they were a danger to her. Oh, of course, there was always that one particular danger, but she was in danger of that from any man on the street. Rape, although horrible, wasn’t exactly a novel threat.

  But no. Today… today, with that toast, and the way Bogdan had looked at her, it was as if he was truly seeing her for the first time. He had watched her the way a man watched horses at an auction, trying to figure out if she was worth buying or not.

  It gave her chills.

  Not even the pleased smile she’d caught her man making could chase that icy feeling from her bones. He had seen something in her, something that amused him, and then he’d caught her watching him. She had seen… not just heat, but a kind of affection in his eyes. Like he actually liked her.

  She’d blushed like a fire hydrant and hurried out of the room before she could make more of an idiot of herself. All while pounding the dough she’d tried to avoid thinking that maybe he was as attracted to her as she was to him—that maybe he’d want to put his large hands on her, slide them underneath her dress…

  Lina punched the dough. No. Stupid. Stop it.

  What was going on today, though, with Bogdan? What had changed? She sensed danger, and her gut was never wrong about these things.

  Her father hurried into the kitchen, pale and sweating. He had insisted on wheeling the food in himself. He’d told her it was because he wanted her to start on the dessert, but Lina knew that he just didn’t want her going back into the private room with those men. She had a sinking feeling her father knew more about the danger lurking here today than she cared to admit to herself.

  Darius gripped the sink, leaning against it and staring down the drain as if it could provide him with long-sought-out answers. Lina paused. “Papa?” She asked, speaking in their native tongue. “What’s wrong?”

  Her father waved her off. “It’s nothing, sweetheart. Nothing.”

  Lina knew a liar when she saw one, especially when the liar was the man who’d raised her. She set the dough aside and quickly washed her hands so that she could place them on his shoulders.

  “Come now. You can’t hide the truth from me, I’m no longer a little girl, remember?” She rubbed her hands up and down his shoulders, trying to ease his aches and trembling. “Speak to me, please, Papa. I know that something is wrong. Something is different today.”

  Slowly, her father turned around. He was facing her now, but he continued to look downward. It was as if he was ashamed to look her in the eye.

  “I’m sure that I don’t need to tell you, sweetheart, that those men in there are bad men.”

  Lina allowed herself a roll of the eyes. “I figured that out after their first visit, Papa. What have they done? Have they threatened you?”

  Darius looked up then, affection shining in his eyes. He reached up to gently stroke Lina’s cheek. “Ah, such a fiery one, just like your mother. She would never have let this happen.”

  “And what is ‘this’, Papa?” Lina thought she might already know. Criminals, dangerous men, didn’t just wander into your restaurant and decide to stay. They were careful about these things. If they had started coming and kept coming, it was because they had a guarantee that they wouldn’t be sold out.

  Darius sighed heavily. He seemed to shrink and become even more frail. Lina had never truly thought of her father as old, even as she knew that tragedy had marred him. He had taught her how to cook and applauded her at graduation. He had shown her how to run the restaurant and the accounting, and always knew how to cheer her up when she was sad. To think that now their positions were reversing, and she now had to be the strong one made her see him, for the first time, as an old man. The idea brought a weight she had never known before down on her shoulders.

  “You must understand, Lina, that I was desperate,” her father explained. He continued speaking in their language, Lithuanian, and Lina didn’t have to ask to know that it was so they wouldn’t be overheard. “I wanted us to have a better life. The fire took everything from me. Not just the house itself, but all valuable belongings. It was the restaurant I owned, on the first floor. It consume
d your mother’s life. Everything of value that I had, save for you, was taken from me on that day.

  “There was no way that I could repay our debtors, or afford to start again. Not where we were. But in America, I thought, there I could give you a good life. But it would cost me.”

  “What did you do, Papa,” Linda asked, her voice surprising herself with its sharpness. “What did you do?”

  “I knew Bogdan back from when we were in Lithuania,” Darius admitted. “He was the one who helped me to get to the United States. He paid for my passage and gave me the startup money for this restaurant. But he charges a high interest, you understand? He is with the Sokolov Bratva. The Russian mob. With the interest that he is charging me… I owe him a million dollars by now.”

  Lina felt her jaw go slack. “A million dollars? How can we possibly repay this debt?” How could her father have gotten into such a massive hole?

  “I thought that at first I could manage it,” her father admitted. “The restaurant was doing well. I was certain that I could pay him off. But then things started changing. The recession, and then the gentrifying, the fancy new places the young people have made popular—and then Bogdan began to show up. His appearances only made it worse. People can tell that they are bad men, and they don’t want to come to a place that caters to criminals, you understand?”

  “I knew that we were in the red, but…” Lina shook her head. “Papa. There is no way that we can possibly pay him back.”

  Already her mind was scrambling with options. Sell the restaurant, that would give them enough capital to move to a new city. Across the country, maybe, in a place like Arizona where living was cheap but not somewhere too small, not somewhere they’d stand out too much as foreigners. They could get a small apartment, yes, and a food truck, refurbish it, she could do it herself and they’d make money off of that—it would be fine, they’d be fine—

  A door slammed shut, and then came the sound of men talking in Russian as they walked down the hall. Another door slammed—the bathroom. Lina let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.