Page 27 of Sold to the Bratva (Sinful Mafia Daddies #2)

ISAAC

“ W hat the hell is this?” I growl through clenched teeth. “You’re my father-in-law, for fuck’s sake. Why are you doing this?”

Oleg smirks, lifting his gun but stopping short of pulling the trigger. “This isn’t personal, Kozlov. This is business.”

“Business?” I snap, whipping toward Viktor. “We had a truce. You used your own daughter as a fake bargaining chip just to lower my defenses?”

Oleg’s smirk widens. “Now you’re getting it.”

My stomach lurches. It takes every ounce of restraint not to shoot him on the spot.

“You’d never have believed we meant to hurt you if we dangled the girl,” he drawls, the smirk pasted to his greasy face.

“She was the perfect distraction, and you swallowed the bait. While you played house, we slipped inside your business. The plan was always to steal your operation and claim your territory. Who did you think kept hitting your shipments?”

“You offered your daughter up as bait?” I growl, locking eyes with the man who should have protected Katya above everyone else. “How could you do that to her?”

Viktor looks neither proud nor ashamed, a detached coldness sits in his icy eyes.

“I did what was necessary,” Viktor says. “For my Bratva. For our future.”

“Bullshit,” I spit. “You used her. You told me this was about peace. You forced her into a marriage she didn’t want just to double-cross both of us. How could you put your own child in danger like that?”

“My child is perfectly safe,” he interrupts. “Because we planned it that way. She was never the target.”

Red veils my vision. “She’s my wife ,” I growl, voice low and lethal. “She’s carrying my child, and you used her.”

Oleg tilts his head, mock sympathy flickering across his face. “Well, that certainly wasn’t part of our plan, but it works out beautifully, doesn’t it? You’re emotionally compromised, vulnerable.”

I step closer, the gun still raised. “You think I’m vulnerable?”

Oleg arches a brow. “If you don’t give us what we want, you’ll leave behind a widow and a fatherless child. I know that isn’t what you want. So, yes. I’d say you’re pretty fucking vulnerable right now.”

I hold my ground. My finger twitches on the trigger, but I know they’re not alone and more of their men stalk the house.

My thoughts race to Katya, and I pray Mikhail got her out in time.

Viktor’s promises mean nothing. She could still be caught in the crossfire.

Too many things could go wrong, leaving her hurt or worse.

“You should be thanking us,” Oleg says, dragging my attention back. “We gave you a taste of domestic bliss. We gave you something worth fighting for. That’s more than most men in our line of work ever get.”

“Don’t you fucking talk about her,” I snap. “You don’t even deserve to say her name.”

“Fine.” He shrugs. “But the moment you’re out of the picture, I’ll be sure to offer her a nice, warm seat beside me. Maybe she’ll come to her senses, see how much more powerful she could be with the Grinkovs permanently.”

Fury ignites in my chest, white-hot and blinding. “You’re not touching her,” I grit out.

Viktor clears his throat as if bored by the theatrics. “Let’s end this quickly, Isaac. As we’ve said, it’s not personal. Surrender now, and you might live long enough to see your child born.”

“I’ll never surrender,” I snarl. “So you can get that fucking farce out of your heads right now.”

“Then you’ll die,” Oleg says, his smirk chillingly detached.

Their weapons come up together, but I fire first, slamming a round into the ceiling. Plaster rains down, and they jerk their gazes upward, barrels dipping just enough for me to seize their attention. When they look back at me, confusion clouds their eyes.

“If you want to take my livelihood,” I say, my voice a low growl, “do it like men. Use your bare fists. Don’t hide behind guns like cowards.”

The air stills for a beat, even the gunfire outside hushes beneath the tension stretching between us. My Glock dangles at my side, forgotten. Oleg’s smile slips. Viktor’s eyes narrow.

I hurl the opening punch. It cracks against Viktor’s jaw, and he staggers, unprepared for my speed. I pivot, ducking a wild swing from Oleg. He’s slower than I expected, too accustomed to sending others to do his dirty work. Good. That works in my favor.

I ram my shoulder into his gut, driving him backward into a bookshelf. Wood splinters. Books tumble. The room dissolves into fists, shouted curses, and flying debris, and the rage inside me erupts.

Viktor recovers quickly. He lunges at me, catching me across the cheek. I taste blood. I welcome it. Every hit, every scrape, every impact of knuckles against skin only feeds the inferno in my chest.

How dare they! How dare they come into my home, plot against me, manipulate their own blood, and act like this is just business? Viktor didn’t just betray me, he betrayed his own daughter.

I picture her walking down the aisle in that damned black dress that drove me wild. She fought hard against this marriage, begging her father to reconsider, trying to keep him from selling her off to a stranger.

She’ll be devastated when she learns the truth, and the thought only fuels my rage. Betraying me is one thing, but betraying my wife is unforgivable.

I slam Viktor into the wall, my hands locking around his throat. He struggles, but not hard enough as age and arrogance have slowed him. I’m driven by something stronger than revenge, the primal need to protect my family.

Oleg barrels into me from behind, and we crash to the floor. Viktor gulps for air, then joins the fray, and their combined weight overwhelms me.

Fists fly, elbows crack against bone. I cover up and swing back, fighting like hell to keep them from beating me senseless, barely processing the chaos around us.

For a heartbeat, I believe this is it, that they’ll overpower me. Katya and our baby flash through my mind, and I picture them struggling without me, our child growing up fatherless.

A roar rips from my chest as I heave upward, hurling Oleg off me with every ounce of strength left. He lands with a grunt but scrambles back, charging again with everything he has.

Just as the room tilts and the lights smear at the edges of my vision, he’s blindsided, tackled.

Mikhail materializes out of nowhere and slams into Oleg like a wrecking ball. They hit the floor hard, bone cracking against marble. Mikhail snakes an arm around his throat, wrenching him into a chokehold, and Oleg thrashes but can’t break free.

Blood trickles down my temple. My knuckles are split and raw. Viktor leans against the wall, panting and dazed.

I could kill them both. My Glock lies within reach. I could put a bullet in each of their heads and call it a day.

But I don’t.

I stagger to my feet and slam Viktor to the floor. Once he’s down, I pin him with a boot to his chest.

He glares up at me, eyes blazing. “What are you waiting for?”

She wouldn’t want me to kill him, not yet. No matter how angry she’ll be or how used she’ll feel, she’ll want to hear the truth before I end him.

“You don’t deserve mercy,” I say coldly. “But you won’t die before your daughter sees exactly what a piece of shit you are. She’s going to look you in the eye and get the answers she deserves before I end your miserable life.”

Viktor’s lip curls. “She’s your weakness.”

“She’s my wife ,” I retort, my voice calm and lethal. “And I won’t let you turn her love into a weapon.”

Oleg groans from the floor as Mikhail tightens his hold.

“You good?” Mikhail rasps, his face slick with sweat and mottled with bruises.

I nod once, sucking in a deep breath. “Get them to the basement and lock them down. No one in, no one out.”

“We could just take care of them now, Isaac,” he grunts. “Put an end to this once and for all.”

Every part of me screams yes , but I shake my head. “I’m not killing Katya’s father without her knowledge,” I say, sure of my decision.

Mikhail nods grimly, dragging Oleg toward the door. “I’ll make sure they’re secured.”

“Don’t be gentle,” I mutter, nodding toward Viktor. “He sold out his own daughter.”

Viktor lets out a bitter laugh, blood staining his teeth. “You should understand,” he says, his voice low. “When you’re pakhan, nothing is off the table.”

“That’s the difference between us,” I say, leaning into his space. “You see everyone as a pawn. I love Katya, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe. She deserved more than the sorry excuse for a father you turned out to be.”

I walk out without another word.

Two of my men rush in to check on me, and I direct them to help Mikhail haul Viktor and Oleg to the basement.

“Make sure every one of their men witnesses this pathetic defeat before you put a bullet in them,” I say coldly. “I don’t want anyone thinking they fought with dignity or honor.”

My men smile as they drag Viktor and Oleg away.

Now I need to find my wife and make sure she’s okay. I’m about to ask Mikhail where he stashed her when he pulls out his phone, frowns, and looks up at me, noticeably paler.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, blood turning to ice.

“It’s Maude,” he says on a sharp exhale. “Katya went into labor, and she’s on her way to the hospital. They have my car.”

Of everything that’s happened tonight, this steals my breath.

“What?” I manage to croak.

“You need to go, Isaac,” he says, voice tight. “Your baby is coming.”

My heart stalls. A tidal wave of panic, relief, fear, and awe crashes over me all at once. I can’t process any of it.

“I’ll handle the cleanup,” he says as if reading my mind. “Just get to your wife.”

I don’t wait another second.