Second Best (Volkov Bratva 1)

“They’re idiots,” Cara said. “We don’t need them in our life. Screw them.” She held up her glass. “To new friends who don’t suck.”

I clinked my glass with hers.

She controlled the conversation, which I didn’t mind. She talked about clients and stories with Slavik, which I enjoyed. Whenever she spoke of her customers, sex was always mentioned, and it would often have me thinking about Slavik.

Cara was the one to end our lunch. I moved my food around.

Gus, the guard, paid for my meal and escorted me out of the restaurant. We were waiting for the car to come when the first shot was fired.

Within seconds, I was on the ground as gunshots rained down on us.

“I’ve got you,” Gus said. “Stay down.”

I couldn’t move. My heart pounded and fear crawled up my back.

There was a sudden break, and Gus was on his feet, firing back. “Call for backup.” A phone was thrown at me. I turned it on and found Slavik’s number. I dialed the number as pain exploded in my shoulder.

“Help!”

I screamed the one word, panic rushing through me.

Gus came to me, and with his help, we ran for cover. Sirens could be heard in the distance.

Everything seemed to fade around me, the noise becoming more like static.

My eyes felt heavy and the dull throb in my arm made it impossible for me to focus. Who would shoot at us? I never got to figure that out as the world went black.

****

Slavik

“We ran some blood tests,” the doctor said.

I didn’t look away from my wife. She was still out of it. I would never forget that cry. It had to be when the bullet hit her that she screamed for help. I heard the fear in her voice, the need.

When I got to the restaurant, Gus and Aurora had been on the ground. Gus had a stomach wound. Aurora had passed out from the bullet lodged inside her arm. They’d taken her to surgery, removed the bullet, and now she was bandaged up, recovering.

“What about them?” I asked.

“Congratulations, Mr. Ivanov, your wife is pregnant.”

I turned to the doctor. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. Blood work doesn’t lie, and I know you like to be thorough. I double-checked it myself. Your wife is pregnant.”

I looked at Aurora. This was good news.

“I would like to start making appointments for your wife’s care—”

“No,” I said. “You make that disappear.”

“You want me to perform an abortion on your wife?”

“No. Those documents, change them. You didn’t discover my wife was pregnant.” I got up from my chair and walked toward him. “That information is between you and me.”

The doctor looked at Aurora then at me. “Sir, with all due respect, pregnancies can be … difficult. We need to make sure she is healthy.”

“I will personally keep an eye on her. When I believe the time is right, I’ll let her know she is pregnant. Until then, you will be quiet about this, or do I have to make you realize who is the one with the power here?”

He bowed his head, submitting to me. Within seconds, he was gone.

I closed the door to the private room and stared at my wife. The men who’d been shooting at her were gone. All but one, who waited for me back at the warehouse. I should be there rather than here. I had men waiting to guard her. Gus was supposed to protect her. Not that I blamed him. He’d done his best.

I sat down. This wasn’t what I was supposed to do. My wife would be taken care of.

So, the first lunch date my wife went on, she was attacked.

I ran fingers through my hair as I watched her.

Pregnant. Aurora was pregnant with my child.

I didn’t know if she was ready to accept that news or if she’d scream at the unfairness of it. Now wasn’t the time to be bringing a child into the world.

I tapped my fingers on my thigh, waiting. The doctor had said she’d wake up soon and she’d be a bit groggy. I shouldn’t care about how she woke up, but I did.

Her hand lay by her side.

Flat.

Lifeless.

I never felt anything but anger in all my life. My rage had helped me to fuel my need to win, to fight. To be the best I could be. To be the monster who took lives and made others afraid.

Arriving at the restaurant and seeing Aurora passed out cold on the ground, I’d known real fear. My wife was becoming a problem because I refused to have feelings. They were a weakness, but my wife, she made me feel so many fucking things, and it wasn’t good.

She was only a piece of property. My wife to cement Ivan’s place. He wanted the treaty in the hope of one day taking over the Italian mafia. Their hold on their turf was sliding. We knew it, they knew it. Binding to us gave them the added power to scare off attacks, but it also meant in time, we’d own them. They would work for us.