Page 2 of Cruel Russian Monster (Safin Bratva #2)

Crouched behind a row of parked cars, my heart pounded against my ribs as I watched Jaroslav climb into his truck and drive off. I waited five more minutes, just to be sure, before hurrying to my Uber and heading for the Airbnb.

I’d managed to convince Artyom that I needed some time away, a solo vacation without my brothers or any security detail. I even traveled under a different name, Autumn St. Clair, complete with a fake ID and credit cards. Whenever I went out, I made sure to wear a wig.

But the truth was, I wasn’t running toward relaxation. I was running from the guilt of knowing I’d caused a massive rift between the Safin and Rykov factions.

I’d been in town for a few days, and today I decided to hit the casinos to get out of my head.

On the way back, sitting in the back of my Uber, I noticed a truck following us.

My pulse quickened, and I told the driver to take me to the boutique.

I’d visited it a few times before and remembered it had two exits.

That way, if I really was being followed, I had a means of escape.

As soon as the car pulled up, I jumped out, slipping inside. Seconds later, the truck parked right outside the window. A chill slid down my spine when I recognized the man behind the wheel.

Jaroslav.

I knew it was only a matter of time before he confronted me, especially after the past we'd shared.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, letting my thoughts drift back to the first time we met.

I was still in college, and midterms were kicking my ass. Zahkar had decided I needed a break, so he took me on a quick trip to Delaware. We hit a club that night and had a great time, dancing, laughing, and drinking. But after Zahkar passed out in the hotel room, I was still too wired to sleep.

So I slipped out and drove to a bar nearby.

I was just at the bar instead of a table; I figured it was safer that way. The music was loud, the lights low, and I was nursing my drink, content to be alone and anonymous.

Then this guy walked up to me and leaned in close, asking for my number. I could smell the alcohol on his breath before he even spoke. My instincts kicked in immediately; I needed to exit before things escalated.

His voice was low, almost a whisper, and the bartender was all the way at the other end of the bar, busy mixing a drink. I tried making eye contact with him, but to no avail. I told the guy I wasn’t interested, making sure to keep my tone calm, but he wouldn’t let up.

When I finally stood up to leave, he grabbed my arm.

He leaned in closer and hissed, “If you make a scene, I’ll hurt you.”

In that moment, I didn’t think I’d ever been more afraid.

Then, suddenly, Jaroslav was there.

Before I could even process what was happening, he had snapped the guy’s wrist like a twig. The sickening crack echoed in my ears, and the man dropped with a groan, cradling his arm.

Jaroslav's steel-gray eyes, dark and dangerous, locked onto mine. Then his hand pressed firmly to the small of my back, and he guided me out of the bar without a word. Stunned and turned on by his touch, I didn't even think; I just moved.

Outside, under the dim glow of the streetlamp, he finally stopped and turned me to face him. That was when I saw it—his eyes weren’t just gray. Not anymore. They glinted like silver with an almost inhuman intensity that made my breath freeze in my throat. I nearly melted right there at his feet.

I was shaking, partly from what had happened inside, but mostly from the way he was looking at me. That expression…a dark blend of fury, concern, and dare I say it—possession.

He looked like a vampire dragged out of some haunting Slavic legend: athletically lean, elegant, and terrifyingly beautiful. Easily a decade older than me, maybe more. I should’ve been wary. I should’ve run. But all I felt was safe.

“It’s time to go home,” he commanded. “Where’s your car?”

I pointed it out. He didn’t ask anything else as we walked over to it.

I got in, started the engine with trembling fingers, and drove back to the hotel, still feeling the phantom heat of his hand on my back the whole way.

***

Over the next three weeks, I buried myself in exams, refusing to let my thoughts drift to him. I told myself it had been a one-time encounter, nothing more. But the truth? He lingered in my mind like a shadow I couldn’t shake.

The moment exams were over and the chance to return to Delaware came up, I took it without hesitation.

I walked into the same bar, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I ordered a drink, took a slow breath, and scanned the room.

And then, I saw him.

Butterflies turned into a full-blown storm. He was sitting alone, his expression unreadable as his gaze locked on me.

I didn’t let myself overthink it. I walked over to him, heart pounding in my ears, and asked if I could sit with him.

He looked at me for a long moment, then said yes.

That was the start of something wild and unforgettable. The kind of whirlwind that wrapped around your soul and refused to let go.

Shortly after, he asked me to be his, and I readily agreed, though I was just twenty and he was thirty-two. As a Bratva princess, he was everything I was drawn to: dangerous, older, and mysterious. With him, I felt seen, heard, and wanted.

We never mentioned our last names. Never asked too many questions. It was safer that way. I didn't want him to know who I really was, for fear that he would change his mind about wanting to be with me.

Not being with him wasn't an option. He was already a part of me.

We met whenever we could in Delaware—hotels, quiet corners of the city, anywhere the world couldn’t find us. It was like stepping into a secret bubble where only we existed.

The first time his lips brushed against mine, it wasn’t rushed or greedy. It was slow, searching, like he was memorizing the taste of me. My whole body responded before I could think. Embers ignited low in my core as I clenched my thighs together, wanting more but letting him take the lead.

And the first time we made love…God. He was gentle, so unlike the cold, steel-edged man he showed to the world when we were out together. He touched me like I was sacred. Knowing it was my first time, he made every moment memorable. He worshipped me, and then he taught me how to do the same to him.

We were perfect for each other.

But as with all good things, eventually it came to an end.

Kira and I had been out shopping with Yegor one afternoon in Philly. It was a perfect day: laughing, shopping bags in hand, and only happiness on the horizon. Then, out of nowhere, Yegor stiffened. His eyes narrowed, and he muttered something venomous under his breath about “a fucking Safin.”

I followed his gaze, and there he was. Jaroslav.

What was he doing here?

My stomach dropped.

I turned to Yegor, my voice barely above a whisper, and asked what he meant.

“That’s Jaroslav Safin,” he said with disgust. “Underboss to our biggest rival faction.”

It was like the ground was pulled out from under me. My heart didn’t just sink, it exploded. Right there, in the boutique, I broke quietly and completely.

***

The next few days passed in a haze. I was numb, lost in the chaos of what I now knew. Every memory of Jaroslav replayed on a cruel loop. His eyes, his touch, the way he made me feel like I was the only girl in the world. And now? I knew there could never be a future for us.

We were supposed to meet again that weekend. Instead, I curled up in bed, clutching my pillow, sobbing uncontrollably.

He called, texted, and left voice notes filled with concern.

“I’m worried about you. Are you safe? Please, talk to me.”

But I couldn’t.

I turned off my phone, burying my heart with it. The next day, with trembling fingers and blurred vision, I crafted the one message that would destroy us both.

I used you. It was just to make my ex jealous. We’re back together now. There’s no need for this anymore.

I hit send and threw the phone across the room.

Was it cruel? Yes.

Was it a lie? Every word.

But what choice did I have?

If Artyom had ever found out I was involved with Jaroslav, he wouldn’t have asked questions. He would’ve just killed him.

So I did the only thing I could.

I made sure Jaroslav hated me enough to stay away. I shattered my own heart just to keep his beating.

And now, three years later, mine was still in the repair shop—damaged, taped together with silence, guilt, and memories I couldn't let go of.

Because loving him wasn’t a mistake.

Letting him go was a sacrifice.

And I’m still bleeding for it.

Living in the same city as Jaroslav had become a relentless game of cat and mouse. For a while, I managed to stay one step ahead, dodging him in crowds, slipping out of places when he arrived, and ducking out of sight right before our paths crossed.

But then Artyom dropped a bomb.

He’d arranged a marriage for me.

I always knew it was coming. Some Bratva alliances were forged by using marriages to sustain and gain power and ward off enemies. I’d been raised to accept it.

What I wasn’t prepared for was to be married off to Jaroslav’s older brother, Lev—the leader of the Safin faction.

My world didn’t just crack; it crumbled.

I tried to convince myself it was the right move, that it was for the good of our family, for the strength of our faction. But the more I said it, the more the words tasted bitter in my mouth. My stomach turned every time I thought about it.

So, two weeks before the wedding, I did the only thing that was in my power to do. I ran.

I fled to Delaware, to the hotel Jaroslav and I used to hide away in, and booked our special room. It was remote with no security cameras.

For over a week, I stayed there with my phone switched off. I thought about Jaroslav, about how much I missed him, how deeply I still loved him.

But I knew I couldn’t stay hidden forever.

I knew exactly what would happen if I cost Artyom this alliance. My brother wasn’t known for mercy. He wouldn’t care why I ran. He’d slap me upside the head, call me selfish, reckless and stupid.

So I sucked it up, pushed my feelings aside, and my memories down.

And I went back.

On the day of the wedding, my siblings and I waited at the church…but Lev never showed.

Weeks later, we found out he’d married someone else, a woman who looked eerily like me. Her name was Katya, and she turned out to be our long-lost half-sister.

Artyom, ever the strategist, was willing to overlook Lev’s betrayal if he annulled the marriage and swapped Katya for me, like I was a piece of meat.

I tried, I really did. I pushed down everything I still felt for Jaroslav and tried to see Lev through a different lens, for the sake of the alliance, for the family. But no matter how hard I tried, my heart wouldn’t follow.

Luckily for me, things worked out between Lev and Katya.

Which meant I didn’t have to marry him after all.

Unfortunately, Lev and Katya’s union only deepened the rift between our families. Artyom took it as a personal insult that Lev refused the annulment and chose to stay married to Katya—a half-breed, as he called her—instead of a polished, elegant Rykov woman like me.

And finding out Katya was pregnant was the icing on the cake in the worst possible way.

That was the final straw, and Artyom declared open war on the Safin family.

Despite everything happening between the two factions, Kira and I wanted a relationship with Katya. With Lev's blessing and help from him and his brothers, we met at their house every two weeks behind Artyom’s back. And every single time, Jaroslav was there.

He played the part of the dutiful brother and brother-in-law, smiling, making polite conversation, but when his eyes met mine, all I saw was steel.

“Ma’am, we’ve arrived.”

The Uber driver’s voice yanked me from my thoughts.

I blinked, forced a smile, and thanked him as I climbed out of the car. My heels crunched softly against the gravel as I made my way up the walkway toward the front door.

I needed to pack and get the hell out of here. It was time to head back to Philly.

I’d slipped away from Jaroslav once, but men like him didn’t give up. It was only a matter of time before he found me again. And the last thing I wanted was to be cornered, to be forced to revisit the past. Forced to look in his eyes, forced to remember what I had done to him…to us.

Not only that, after pulling the stunt I did, there was no telling what he would do if he got me alone. The wounds between us had never truly closed, and I wouldn’t survive them being torn open again.

My fingers trembled slightly as I unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Immediately, it slammed shut behind me, making me jump. I spun on my heel to see why and froze.

Jaroslav stood blocking the front of the door, an evil smirk plastered on his face.

“Hello, Vera.” His voice was filled with disdain. “Fancy meeting you all the way out here. Alone .”