Bratva Bride

Chapter Two

Theodora Vatali; 

"Theodora! Get your ass out of bed!" A deep voice boomed from outside my bedroom door. 3 hard bangs against the door made the walls shake. 

I bolted upright, my hair disheveled and legs wrapped up in the blankets. My hand flew to my forehead as I closed my eyes and groaned. 

Uh, too f*****g early. 

Another bang at my bedroom door snapped me out of my haze and my eyes flew open. The heat of a body next to mine made me jolt straight out of the bed. 

Oh f**k. 

There, lying in the middle of my bed was . . . f**k what was his name? My one night stand, lets just call him that. 

After a kick ass night at one of our nightclubs Distortia, where I celebrated turning 21 with a few of my closest friends, I managed to pick up this man to satisfy some very special needs. Aka, s*x. Yes, I'm a woman who loves s*x, so what? Most women like to pretend they're not as into it as men are, but that's a f*****g lie. Women want s*x just as much as men, maybe more, and I'm not afraid of that. 

My eyes wandered over the sleeping figure in my bed. Is it just me, or did he look way more attractive last night? Beer googles Theo, damn beer googles. 

He wasn't unattractive, just not the type of man I usually go for. He was lean, but more so on the skinny side. He had long, brown hair that went to his shoulders, that had streaks of blonde in it. Eh, did I think that was sexy?  His face was round, kind of like a baby face, and his nose was flat, like he had been hit in the face with a shovel. 

What the f**k was I on last night!? 

Looking down at my body I realised I was naked. f**k. I quickly ran across the room to my closet and plucked a robe off a hanger. Tying the rope around my waist, I made my way back to the bed just as another bang reverberated throughout the room. 

"Theoooooooo". The voice growled, which I now knew to be my older brother Aleksandr. 

The man was still fast asleep on my bed, his upper body completely bare and the blanket covering his lower half. I brought my foot up and kicked his leg, trying to rouse him. 

"Oi." I hissed, kicking him again. He groaned, rolling his body to the side to face me and opened his eyes. 

Ahhhh, that was why. 

His eyes, one blue, one brown, and a complete f*****g turn on. I must have been so drunk last night, I didn't give a f**k about anything else about him. Shallow, I know. But who cares? 

He blinked a few times before those s*x-bomb eyes focused on me. "If you value your life you'll get up and jump out that window." I said, pointing to the large clear window to my left. 

My room was on the third floor, so it wouldn't be a pleasant fall. But compared to what my brothers have been known to do to my 'male friends', I think I'd prefer the jump out the window. 

"What?" His voice came out raspy and thick from sleep. 

A loud bang followed by a string of Russian curses had s*x Eyes jumping out of bed, completely buck naked. My bedroom door had been kicked open, and the force of it had the door smacking into the wall. Next thing you know, in strolls big brother Aleksandr in all his 6 foot 7 glory. 

He was a biggggg dude. Built like a pro wrestler and tall enough to have to lower his body  whenever he walked through a damn door. He is my Father's pride and joy. The next Vatali to take the throne and continue our legacy. He has the entire world at his fingertips. Doesn't help that he's good-looking either, and he damn well knows it. His black hair is cut short and styled neatly. His chiseled jaw is always a winner with the ladies, as well as his piercing bright blue eyes. 

Aleksandr walks in like he owns the damn place, and stops right in front of me. His eyes flick to s*x Eyes - to me - and then back to s*x Eyes. His signature 'don't f**k with me' look is plastered all over his face. You could feel the intensity of his presence fill the room, almost to the point where you felt suffocated by his sheer masculinity. 

Sex Eyes started to squirm under the scrutiny of his gaze, shifting from one foot to the other. He lowered his head in submission, his d**k hanging placid between his legs and arms limp at his sides. 

Aleksandr turned fully and pins me with his gaze. 

"Really Theodora?" He growls. 

Even though I'm 6 foot 2, I still have to raise my head to look him in the eye.

 "What?" I asked innocently, flashing my eyelashes. "Did you forget today's my birthday?" 

Aleksandr narrowed his eyes and then scowled at me, turning his focus back to s*x Eyes. Clearly he did forget, and I'm going to use that to my advantage. 

"Oh my god you did forget!" I chastised, pointing my finger into his chest. "My big brother forgot my own birthday! I'm hurt!" I yell dramatically, bringing the back of my palm to my forehead and swaying like I'm lightheaded. 

Aleksandr looks back at me, unamused by my antics. 

"What do you want Theo?" 

Ah, big, bad, big brother knows me well. Clearly, I don't give a s**t if he forgot my birthday, but I know I can play the card to get what I want, and he knows I do it too. Let's just say, it isn't the first time. 

"Why don't we forgo presents this year and instead, you help me out with a teeny, tiny, problem I've got." I said not at all subtly, pointing my thumb over to s*x Eyes. 

Aleksandr closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, taking a deep breath before looking back at me. 

He turned and started making his way over to s*x Eyes. His head immediately snapped up, and he started backing away, his hands flying up in surrender. 

"What the f**k is going on?" s*x Eyes yelled, as he continued to back away. 

His legs hit the end of the bed and Aleksandr placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to sit. Without hesitating, he pulled out his gun from inside his suit jacket and clocked s*x Eyes right between the eyes. A solid umph came out of s*x Eyes right before he fell back on the bed unconscious. 

"I'll take him to the pit and we'll deal with him later." Aleksandr began as he picked up s*x Eyes' limp body and flung him over his shoulder. "You need to hurry up and get ready, or did YOU forget Father called a meeting this morning?" 

"Oh f**k!" I yelled, sprinting to my closet. 

"Oh f**k is right." Aleksandr muttered as he walked out the door. 

Ignoring him, I quickly put an outfit together. Simple black tights and a black tank and ran to my en suite. After a quick 5 minute shower, I got dressed and made my way downstairs. 

Our house, although most people would say it's more of a mansion really, is built on several hundred acres of land. The whole property is gated off and guarded by my Father's men 24 hours a day. It's every bit as ostentatious as one might expect the leader of The Bratva to have. 

3 story house, built in the Victorian Era and every bit deserving of the name. With towers, turrets and wrap-around porches, as well as decorative railings and a stone exterior, our home is everything my Mother ever wanted it to be. 

Making my way down our large circular staircase, I tried to get my head back in the game. Father told us all yesterday he wanted to meet this morning to discuss something important. Of course, I hardly paid attention because I was getting mentally prepared to get f****d up that night. 

Argh, should have listened more! 

I had no idea what this meeting was about, and I hope to God he didn't tell us yesterday. Otherwise I'll be the next one to go a few rounds in the ring. 

Growing up, my brothers and I used to get into all kinds of fights. From screaming matches to full on blow outs, we would argue over the tiniest little thing. Not to mention the fact we used to prank each other all the time, and our pranks sometimes got way out of hand. 

One year, Lukyan and I decided Aleksandr really needed to loosen up a bit, so we spiked his Vodka with Rohypnol, commonly known as 'Roofies.' Once he passed out, we tied his ass up and left him buck naked in one of our strip clubs with lipstick kisses all over his body from one of the strippers. He woke up pissed and disoriented, with no clue as to how he got to the strip club, and a simple note taped to his chest - 'Lyubov, Lukyan & Irina.'  Love, Lukyan & Irina. 

When he got home, note in hand he was ready to wage war. Instead, we settled it like we always do, in the ring. When Father realised he couldn't contain our habit for picking fights with one another, he decided that any disagreements would be settled in our boxing ring at our personal gym. He also used it as a form of punishment. If we f****d up a job, or disrespected him, we would have to go a few rounds with him, the devil himself, and Father never went easy in the ring. It didn't matter if you were his own flesh and blood, he'll knock you down a peg to teach you your place. 

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, I pivoted left and made my way down the long corridor towards Father's office. Coming to a stop in front of a large, wooden door, I raised my hand and knocked twice. 

"Enter." My Father's voice boomed from inside the room. I lowered my hand to the handle and immediately opened the door. 

The smell of smoke and alcohol immediately hit my senses. Not surprising even for 9 o'clock in the morning. My Father was seated behind his large, mahogany desk in the middle of the room. 

Wearing his signature three piece suit, he looked like he was a model for GQ, not a cold blooded Russian Mobster. His black hair was kept neat and tidy, with only a few grey hairs starting to make their appearance. His face was set in his usual 'neutral' expression, giving off the epitome of a man who has no care in the world. His bright blue eyes locked onto me as soon as I stepped in the room. 

Father rose from his chair, and made his way around his desk, heading towards me. 

"S dnem rozhdeniya printsessa" Happy Birthday Princess 

He said in Russian as he embraced me in his arms. 

Placing a small kiss to my forehead, he gave me one quick squeeze before letting me go. He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out an envelope, handing it to me. 

Ah, the perfect gift — money. I can always count on Daddy Dearest to deliver with the goods every year. 

Leaning up on my tip toes, I kissed him on the cheek and whispered "Spasibo, otets." Thank you, Father 

He straightened his body, fixing his tie and running a hand down his suit. A clear sign he was uncomfortable. 

Father loves me, there's no doubt in my mind about that, but he isn't the greatest at showing it. At showing emotions or feelings in general. He was raised to be tough. To show no weakness. To be every bit the ruthless killer a Pakhan ought to be. That kind of upbringing cemented him as the 'tough love' type of parent, instead of the 'nurturing' type. 

He walked back to his desk and sat in his large leather chair, pouring himself what I'm guessing is his second or third shot of Vodka. As I walked in, I tucked the envelope in my back pocket and took stock of my surroundings.

Lukyan was sitting in a chair in front of Father's desk, slouched back and his ankle resting comfortably on his left knee. He had a thick, brown cigar sticking out of his mouth, and a glass half filled with Vodka in his hand. 

Swirling the glass, he brought it to his lips and chugged the remainder. He placed the empty glass on the desk and stood, making his way over to me. 

He was just as tall as Aleksandr, but instead of being built like a bloody brick house, Lukyan was more on the leaner side. His dark hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, with a few strands cascading over his face. His bright blue eyes connected with mine and he smiled. 

"Happy Birthday baby sister." His thick Russian accent came through clear as day. 

No matter how long we lived in Las Vegas, his accent never changed. His true heritage always shining through. 

"Thank you brother." I replied, wrapping my arms around his waist. 

Nikolai emerged from the shadows behind Father's desk, and I had to work hard not to flinch in surprise. Father would have been furious to know I didn't pay attention to my surroundings. 

Nikolai walked over and shoved Lukyan to the side. He wrapped his big, muscular arms around me and rested his chin on top of my head. At 6 foot 6, it was easy for him. 

"Happy Birthday." He whispered, before letting me go and slinking back to his usual spot against the wall. 

I thanked them both and moved to sit down in the chair next to Lukyan. Father poured another shot of Vodka in a glass and handed it to me. I picked up the glass and downed the drink without hesitating. The burn of the liquid as it slid down my throat was comforting and familiar. 

I've been drinking Vodka since I was 7, after my first kill. Father said 'If you're old enough to kill, you're old enough to drink.'  

Lukyan took the seat next to me, and returned to his position prior to my arrival. He picked up his cigar and brought it to his lips, inhaling for a solid few seconds before releasing his breath. 

"So Father, what's this meeting about?" Lukyan asked casually. 

Father turned his head and pinned him with his sharp gaze. He said nothing. Remained absolutely silent, the only indication he heard Lukyan's question was the subtle raise of his eyebrow. 

Lukyan immediately back peddled. 

"Not that I'm demanding answers from you or anything, Father." He said quickly, sitting up straighter. "I mean. . . I was just . . . you know. . .oh fuck." He lowered his head, avoiding Father's sharp gaze. 

"Oh f**k's right, you moron." I whispered in his direction, though I knew Father could hear me. 

"We'll discuss your insolence later Lukyan." Father said, his voice low and threatening. 

His entire demeanour was cold, and menacing. Just being in his presence made you want to tuck your head between your legs and f*****g run. He was my Father. I loved him. I respected him. But I also feared him. You'd be a fool not too. 

"Once Aleksandr returns, we'll began. Speaking of, where is your brother?" Father arched an eyebrow, looking at me. 

Oh f**k, oh f**k. Be cool. 

"He had to go to the bathroom after he came to wake me. Massive case of the runs. Full blown diarrhoea." I said quickly, mimicking an explosion with my hands and adding sound effects. "Kaboooooooom" 

Father stared at me, a barely noticeable twitch on his lips. He was trying hard not to laugh, and to keep his 'Russian Mobster' persona in tact. 

3 quick knocks on the office door and any trace of humour from Father disappeared as quickly as it arrived. 

"Enter." He bellowed. 

Aleksandr opened the door and walked in. With a slight head nod to Father, he moved to the far side of the room and took a seat on the 3 seater couch. Leaning back, he stretched his arm out over the back of the couch and crossed his ankle over his knee. 

Father focused back on me, while the room filled with silence. 

"Let's begin."