Page 19 of Cruel Russian Pakhan (Safin Bratva #1)

When I took the small sofa across from Katya and the others, I chose the seat that faced them. Vera’s back was to them, by design. I wanted to see everything. To see her.

Artyom sat alone at the bar, nursing a drink, his eyes glued to them like a wolf watching prey he couldn't touch. Katya had slipped into conversation with Kira, Yegor, and Zakhar, laughing over the ridiculous college stories Yegor and Zahkar were telling. Artyom didn’t say a word. Just watched.

After everything she told me over dinner, Katya deserved this. The warmth of siblings. The easy laughter of friendship. The sense that she belonged, was wanted, cared for...loved.

I knew what it meant to grow up with siblings in our world.

It made life bearable, survivable even. In a world full of enemies, our siblings were often the only ones we could count on.

That kind of loyalty wasn't given, it was forged. And now Katya had that. Not only with her siblings, but mine as well. My sisters had taken to her, and she to them. That wasn’t something I’d interfere with.

Earlier, while they were out shopping, Mariya had called me and said she and Ninel wanted to keep in touch with Katya. She knew that the annulment would be happening soon, and she had hoped that, despite that I wouldn't stop them from hanging out with her. I didn't see a problem.

Technically, Katya was a Rykov, but because she hadn't grown up with them and hadn't been tainted by her family or our world, Katya was like a breath of fresh air. My sisters trusted her. Liked her. She was one more person they could confide in. So I bought the damn phone.

Hell, even Jaroslav, who was suspicious of his own shadow, saw her differently after hearing her story.

The only one who hated her from where I sat was Artyom.

And from the venom he spat when he first met her, it wasn’t subtle.

I should’ve stepped in. I wanted to. But I knew I couldn’t shield her from him.

If this was going to be her home, she’d have to learn how to live in it, with all of its rot.

And the way Yegor’s hand tightened on the small of her back told me she wouldn’t be doing it alone.

And now…now I couldn’t wait to use Vera to destroy Artyom.

After the way he treated Katya when she arrived, I couldn't wait to watch his empire crack beneath the weight of his own goddamn arrogance.

I got out of my head and began my conversation with Vera.

I met her eyes squarely, asking all the right questions as I tried to get to know my bride-to-be.

But I didn’t hear a damn word she said—didn’t really see her, either.

My focus was across the room, tuned into the sound of Katya’s laughter as she joked with her siblings like she’d known them all her life.

The woman in front of me might’ve looked like Katya, but they weren’t the same.

Not even close. Vera was docile and refined, trained to say the right things, to keep the peace.

It felt like she was telling me what I wanted to hear.

But Katya? She was unfiltered, raw. Her words didn’t just land, they ignited something in me.

And once they did, that fire only burned hotter, making me crave her more than I was willing to admit.

The more I listened to Vera’s voice, the clearer it became.

This would never work. I felt nothing. When I placed my hand on her back, there was no spark.

No desire to pull her into me, to feel her body against me.

Her voice didn’t stir a damn thing in me.

There was no challenge in her words, no defiance in her blue eyes that pulled me in without warning, like Katya's.

Nothing about her seeped into me and lingered. Not one fucking thing.

Vera was a stranger. The only woman I wanted was Katya.

God! Fucking her was supposed to tame my urges, release her from my system. But, the more her voice and laughter drifted to my ear, the stiffer my cock became.

Vera’s the one you’re marrying. She seals the alliance, the key to leveling up your entire faction. She's the power play your family needs. Don't let feelings fuck this up. This isn't about desire. It's about power.

My mind was splitting in two when Artyom’s cold voice cut through the laughter and the chatter of Katya and the others.

“Katya, you won’t be leaving with Lev. You’re staying here with us.”

What the fuck did he mean, Katya was staying here?

Nonchalantly, I looked toward him, barely able to contain the anger rising in my chest. His eyes were fixed on Katya.

“W-what do you mean?” Katya’s voice cracked, trembling. “Lev never told me…”

I hadn’t told her because I didn’t know. Or maybe I hadn’t wanted to believe that Artyom would take it this far. That he’d decide to keep my wife here without so much as a fucking word to me.

My wife.

I felt a heat rush to my chest at the recognition of who Katya really was.

My wife. Mrs. Katya Safin.

Had Artyom lost his damn mind? What made him feel he could hold Katya hostage? And I'd be a silent bystander?

Katya looked at me, wide-eyed, desperate for an escape. After what Artyom said to her earlier, everything in her body language told me she wasn't comfortable around him. And to be honest, I wasn't comfortable with her around him, either.

My jaw clenched.

But Artyom was her brother, her Pakhan. The head of their faction. She’d have to learn to stomach his behavior. Just like the rest of us.

But she’s your wife!

She was a mistake that needs to be rectified!

I sat there, barely restrained, listening to his justification for keeping my wife under his roof.

“Lev’s not in charge of you anymore,” Artyom said lazily. “You were a mistake. Somehow, that seems to be the story of your life, doesn't it?”

Katya froze, her hands curled into balls on her lap as she looked at Artyom.

“Now that Lev and I have settled things and he's making friendly with the woman he was supposed to marry in the first place—” Artyom tilted his glass to me and smirked before he turned back to Katya “—you have become obsolete. But I’m giving you a chance to be useful, for once in your life. I’ve already found you a husband. ”

I went cold.

“He’s a trusted ally. Fifty-five. Lost his wife last year.

He’s ready to move on with a young, sweet wife.

He would've preferred a virgin, of course. But I told him you'd only been with Lev briefly, so at worst,” Artyom’s grin twisted into something cruel, “you’re just a bit damaged.

And after seeing your picture, it was something he was easily willing to overlook.

He's even talking about having you get surgery, to tighten what Lev tore right open.”

What the fuck? Would Artyom really be this callous?

Why are you surprised?

Artyom leaned back, satisfied. “You’ll be wed as soon as the annulment is finalized.”

A thought slammed into my skull before I could stop it.

Mine .

Artyom wasn’t going to hand her off like property, least of all to some rotting bastard pushing sixty, as punishment for simply existing. What the fuck was wrong with him?

And how the hell did he even get a picture of Katya? Did he pass it around like a fucking menu? That old prick was probably jerking off to it. Worse, I wondered who else Artyom had shown it to. Who else he’d propositioned her to like she was some deal to be bartered.

If he thought he could make that announcement in front of me and I’d just sit there and take it…

He was out of his goddamn mind.

Katya. Was. Mine.

Before I realized what I was doing, I was on my feet. I stormed over, grabbed Katya’s arm, and yanked her to her feet, pulling her a few steps away.

“No,” I growled. “You’re not handing her over to some fucking fossil.”

Artyom stepped forward, glass still in hand.

“And who the fuck are you to stop me?” His voice dripped with contempt.

“You’ve got Vera. A gem. A prize. A worthy Bratva woman.

This bitch,” he snarled in Katya's direction, and she flinched, “is just leftover trash. I can do whatever the hell I want with her.”

Something inside me snapped. Arguing with Artyom was useless; he’d already made up his mind. Katya was under his control, and though she was still legally my wife, I was expected to marry Vera once the annulment was finalized. That was the deal.

But, just thinking of Katya under another man, his hands teasing and caressing her, her giving her moans to him—or worse, him hurting her, leaving marks on her—made me see red. I needed to get us out of there.

So, I did what our world respected most.

I chose violence.

In a flash, I drew my gun, flicked off the safety, and wrapped one arm around her shoulders, my hand clamping down on the opposite side, careful not to choke her.

I pressed the barrel to Katya’s temple and began backing us toward the door. She gasped, rigid in my grasp, a soft whimper escaping her lips.

I wanted to whisper in her ear to trust me, that I had a plan, that I'd never hurt her, but I didn't want to be overheard and I needed her reaction to be as natural as possible.

Yegor, Zahkar, and Kira jumped to their feet. Zahkar caught Kira by the arm before she could charge forward.

"Lev, please,” Katya sobbed. “It’s fine. Just let it go. He’s right.”

But it wasn’t fine.

I was holding a loaded gun to my wife’s head, in front of her siblings. Her tears fell warm against my hand, but I couldn’t stop now. There was no other way.

Artyom's sneer deepened. “Go on, shoot her,” he said coldly. “Do us all a favor.”

I struggled not to turn the gun on Artyom and put a bullet in his skull right there and then. Did he hate her that much for what her mother did? Why didn't he direct any of the rage toward his father, who had been the one to step out on his wife and pay for all the hotel accommodations?

Katya was a victim of circumstance.

“No!” Vera’s voice cracked like glass from across the room. Then, she lunged forward, grabbing Artyom’s arm. “You can’t tell him that! She’s our sister!”

“She’s a bastard!” Artyom roared, shaking her off. Vera stumbled and Yegor caught her. “She’s some whore’s mistake. She’s not one of us!” His eyes locked onto mine. “And you, Safin, you’re standing on Rykov ground. Don’t forget that. We could bury you here and no one would bat an eye.”

Let them try.

I wouldn’t die alone. I'd drag that son of a bitch with me. We'd both see each other in hell. Before I could respond, Yegor stepped forward.

“Artyom,” he interjected carefully, his eyes never leaving Katya or me as he spoke.

“One, whether you like it or not, Katya is a Rykov.

And you know that if Dad were alive, he'd demand that you respect her as such.

If you allow Lev to kill her, that's going to open a Pandora's box none of us will be able to close.

Two, I'm assuming Lev's siblings know he's here.

If you kill him, that would ignite a war we can't afford.

Legally, you'll be killing your sister's husband. Bratva is founded on family, and the founding fathers will have your head if they find you guilty. And three, right now, Lev is worth more to us alive than dead. We need that smuggling route. You know it and I know it.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Then Artyom roared and hurled his glass at the wall. It shattered, and Kira screamed. Vera rushed to hold her.

Artyom lunged for us, but Zahkar and Yegor held him back, their arms locked around his shoulders as he fought like a man possessed.

“Get out!” Yegor barked. “Now, Lev! I’ll make sure the gate is open. Move!”

My arm tightened around Katya’s chest, as she trembled beneath me as she sobbed. I backed her out of the room, never taking my eyes off Artyom as he shouted promises of death in our direction.

“This isn't over, Safin. You'll fucking pay for this! And I'll get Katya back in this house one way or the other!”

The moment we hit the hallway, I grabbed her wrist and stormed toward the front door, throwing it open, and we made our way to the SUV.

The gate was already open as I shoved Katya into the vehicle, climbed in beside her and slammed the door. Only then did I holster my gun.

Rocco didn’t ask questions. He hit the gas and peeled out of the compound.

No one was taking her from me.

She was mine.

And I'd burn the world down to keep her, even if I burned with it.