Page 2 of Taken by the Bratva (Bychkov Bratva #1)

We find Kelsey out on the main floor, directing the group of girls that will be working there, and when she’s done, she takes us up to the third floor.

As we climb the stairs, I notice the second floor’s walls are lined with padded lounge bench seating and long coffee tables, with large divider planters overflowing with green leafy plants to separate each section for privacy.

We continue on up another set of stairs to the third floor, and I’m not liking that if I do end up needing to make a hasty exit, I’ll have to go down two long flights of slippery marble stairs.

“Is there an elevator here if we need to go down and grab something or use the bathroom? It’s going to take forever to go up and down these stairs in heels and through the crowd that’s sure to form soon.”

“Yes, there’s an elevator. It’s beside the security office up here,”

Kelsey tells us, and Sasha, Carrie, and I look at each other in relief.

“Alright, you three will be working here on the third floor. The owner’s office is there.”

She points to a well-hidden door off to the right.

“And the security office is right beside it if you need any help for some reason. The area you’ll be working is this way.”

Kelsey walks us over to a glass door that leads to a lounge area that takes up half of the top floor. It’s odd because aside from the door, the rest of the area is still open around the balcony.

“This area is private. Only invited guests are allowed up here, so there will be a guard at the top of the stairs ensuring this. You have your own bar and bartender, too. I’ll be frank with you girls. The owners are paying a shitload of money to have this city’s most beautiful women serve them and their guests their new vodka tonight. They made you walking displays for their jewelry, too. They wanted the best, so we’re giving them the best. Which is why you three are here tonight.”

“Fine with me,”

Carrie says with a grin, but Sasha and I only give small nods of agreement.

Damn it, I wish Gia was here with me. Sammy and Jonny are down on the first floor laying low and this dress doesn’t allow anywhere to stash my phone. I also don’t want to hide it up here in case I need to leave quickly. I really hope this night goes smoothly and I don’t need it.

“The owner of this club is Kirill Bychkov. He’ll be here tonight with his brothers, but along with the family, they’ll have some guests with them. These are important businessmen, so if you hear anything…”

She looks at each of us.

“No, you didn’t. Understand?”

“Of course. Discretion is key. We won’t hear anything we’re not supposed to,”

I assure her.

I wonder if she knows who they really are with a warning like that.

Kelsey taps her ear where she’s wearing an earpiece and then curses under her breath.

“Sorry, girls, I need to get back downstairs. It seems some of the girls are not happy about working in the ice bar and I need to remind them who they work for. Just go see the bartender in there. He’ll tell you what you need to do before the owner arrives.”

She takes off down the stairs and I open the thick glass door. Jesus, this thing is heavy. It must be bulletproof. What’s the point of the bulletproof glass door if the rest of the VIP area is exposed in the middle?

The area is a lot bigger than I initially thought, with three different lounge seating areas within the space. They have a nice view of the club from up here, and the massive bar taking up the back wall is fully stocked with every liquor imaginable. It reminds me of the VIP balcony area in Royals, the club in my family’s casino in Atlantic City.

“Hey, are you the three working up here tonight?”

the bartender asks, his eyes roaming up and down our bodies without shame.

“Yes,”

Sasha answers, lifting her chin defiantly in a big ‘fuck you’ statement.

“What do we need to know?”

“This area won’t be filled like it usually is. It’ll just be the boss and his brothers, plus a handful of guests to celebrate. Of course, they always bring up a group of girls at some point, so be prepared for that.”

“Figures,”

Carrie mutters under her breath.

“Doors open in five minutes, but the bosses are already here somewhere, so be ready.”

“And your name?”

I ask boldly, and his eyes sparkle with interest while he wears a stupid little smirk.

“Kaz. And you three ladies?”

“Aria, Carrie, and Sasha.”

I point to each of us respectively, and his eyes linger on Sasha, questions in his eyes. I know she’s Russian, and I can bet he’s wondering if she is because of her name and if she’ll be a problem tonight.

Kaz says something to her in Russian and she simply stares back at him.

“Excuse me?”

she asks.

“I’m Russian, yes, but I don’t speak it or understand it.”

He nods and goes back to polishing glasses, and I see Sasha’s shoulders slump in relief. I’ve definitely heard her speak Russian on the phone at photoshoots, so I know she’s lying, and it’s probably for the best.

Kaz places six shot glasses on one bar tray, then pulls a bottle of Almaz Vodka from the freezer behind him and places it in a bucket of ice.

“The brothers will take a celebratory shot when they arrive and then again when their guests arrive. After that, they may keep drinking it or order whatever they want.”

“Got it.”

I nod, and once again, Kaz’s eyes peruse me too closely for my liking.

I’m arranging the frosted shot glasses in a circle with my back to the room when I hear deep voices filter in from the doorway. My spine straitens, automatically on edge.

I take a few calming breaths, but then feel the heated gaze of one of them travel down the length of my body like a caress, and my skin breaks out in goosebumps as if it has truly been touched.

I can’t turn around yet.

I don’t know why, but my body will not move for me.

I don’t want to see who it is.

I shouldn’t be here.

“Aria,”

Sasha whispers to get my attention.

“They’re here. We can’t keep them waiting, and please, we can’t make them mad. Okay?”

Yeah, she definitely knows who they are.

“Yes, I know,”

I whisper back, and take a deep breath to shake off the residual feeling of unease. I need to stay sharp.

Sasha already has the chilled vodka bottle in her hand, so I pick up the tray of shot glasses and slowly turn around, keeping my eyes cast downward as I walk towards the group of six men standing at the balcony. Their backs are to us, so for a moment, I’m able to freely look at them, taking in their imposingly large figures. They’re all tall, with broad shoulders, but it’s the one in the middle that has my eyes taking in every inch of him as if I was memorizing his figure to sketch out later.

His broad shoulders lead to muscular arms that may be concealed by his suit jacket at the moment, but I can see them straining the fabric like they want to break free. His waist doesn’t taper in at his hips like other men, but rather remains wide. His ass looks phenomenal, and his legs look like tree trunks being forced to remain confined inside his suit like the rest of him.

He's a fine specimen from the back. One that I might really sketch later.

As if he can feel my eyes on him the way I felt one of theirs just before, he looks over his shoulder and I quickly lower my gaze to the glasses on my tray before I get caught staring.

Jesus, Aria, get a grip. You’ve got this. It’s just another night. It’s just another job.

Taking a breath, I lift my gaze and address everyone who isn’t the imposing man I was just admiring, because it’s him. The others are looking at me, but it’s his eyes raking down my body that I recognize as the caress I felt before, only this time I feel it like he’s brushing a feather over my bare skin, leaving it pebbled and wanting.

My eyes dart between all the men aside from him, but even without looking directly at him, I can still tell that he’s even more imposing from the front.

“Congratulations on your release. Would you like to begin the night with a celebratory shot?”

I offer, my voice surprisingly steady.

“Of course,”

one of the men answers with a grin.

“I’m Kirill, and this is my club, and this is my brother, Nikolai, the one who created this vodka.”

He grabs the shoulder of the man beside him in a brotherly pat of pride and I give them both a polite smile in return.

Sasha pours the vodka into the glasses with a slight shake to her hand, and it makes me wonder how much she knows about these men to have her shaking in fear.

Once all six shot glasses are filled, I hold the tray up to Kirill, thinking he should go first, but he gives me a small shake of his head while the five of them turn towards the man I’ve stealthily avoided looking at thus far.

Shit.

He's in charge.

Of course he is.

The air around him is swirling as he permeates it with a quiet authority, danger, and all-around don’t-fuck-with-me attitude. He’s also the largest of the six of them, and being so close to him, it’s hard not to react. I can’t avoid looking him in the eyes anymore without the risk of coming off as disrespectful.

I slowly lift my gaze from his chest to his thick, muscular neck that’s on display with the top few buttons of his shirt undone, then to his chiseled, five o’clock shadow covered jaw, and his lips that are pressed together in a firm line that have me wondering what it would feel like to slide my tongue over them. Would he soften under my touch, or remain hard and firm with his kisses?

Wait, what?

Why am I thinking about that?

I shouldn’t be thinking about that. Not with him.

I tear my eyes from his lips and lift them to finally meet his.

Oh, sweet Lord.

Light blue eyes the color of ice bore into mine, and my lips separate just the slightest to suck in a sharp breath, feeling his stare like a straight shot to my heart.

His icy blue eyes are just that – cold and hard.

They’re still incredibly beautiful, hauntingly so, and they’re staring at me so intensely, it’s almost like he’s either trying to read my mind or hypnotize me.

Blinking out of the momentary trance, I look back down at his broad chest where it’s safe. I don’t dare look into his eyes again, a little afraid of what he’ll find in mine and how little I’ll see in his. Instead, I raise the tray to him in offering.

After what feels like way too long, he finally takes one of the glasses, giving my eyes somewhere else to focus – his scarred, beautiful hands. They’re large, making me wonder how much of me they’d cover with both of them on me, running up and down my body. His fingers are long and thick, and I know they would feel rough against my skin and like a beautiful torture inside of me.

Fuck.

No.

Stop that line of thinking.

I turn away from him and offer the remaining shots to the men around him. As soon as the last one is taken, the beautifully terrifying man speaks. His deep, rough voice is a straight shot to my core, sending shockwaves vibrating through me and rendering me momentarily stuck where I’m standing.

I finally manage to take a step back, and they all lift their glasses.

“Na zdorovye,”

he says, and they all throw their shots back. I should walk away, but I let my eyes watch his throat work around his swallow, and my lower stomach twists like I was watching him swallow after he drank from me like I was his source of sustenance.

I think I’m going insane.

Sasha grabs my elbow and pulls me alongside her back to the bar.

“You need to stop looking at him like that, Aria,”

she whispers urgently.

“These are not men you want to get involved with.”

“Do you know them?”

I ask curiously.

“I know of them.”

“Hmm,”

is all I say in return, not giving away that I know exactly who they are, too. It would only lead to questions I don’t want to answer.

Sasha left the bottle in the ice bucket on the table and the men walk over and pour another round, this time into the lowball glasses left out for them.

Before she can say anything else, I walk over to the table and clear the used shot glasses. Just as I’m picking up the last one, the door opens, and I recognize the security guy from out front when I first arrived enter with a dog. He bends down and unclasps the leash from the dog’s collar and the gorgeous animal immediately trots over and circles the men, sniffing each of them. The dog starts to approach me, but he utters a deep command in Russian and the dog walks over to him and sits at his feet.

Of course he has a guard dog. A beautiful German Shepherd that’s mostly black, with golden tipped ears, paws, and a small patch on his head. He’s gorgeous, scary, and imposing. Just like his owner.

“Jesus, that dog is scary,”

Carrie whispers when I bring the glasses back to the bartender.

“I’m terrified of dogs like that, and now I have to work all night with it here, looking like it’s ready to attack?”

I roll my eyes before I turn to her.

“That dog is gorgeous and he’s not going to attack us. As you saw, he’s very well trained.”

“He’s not even on a leash!”

she exclaims in a loud whisper.

“Shut up!”

Sasha reprimands, her jaw clenched.

“They’ll hear you.”

“I was almost attacked by my neighbor’s German Shepherd when I was little and I’m terrified of them!”

Carrie tells us, starting to go into a panic.

“Both of you need to relax, right this damn minute,”

I tell them.

“Sasha, stop worrying about who they are. They hired us to do a job, and that’s what we’re going to do. And Carrie, you need to take some deep breaths and drink some water. That dog is not going to attack you. Trust me. Did you not see how in control of it his owner is? We’re fine. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

Carrie nods, and Sasha does a few seconds later, too.

“Can she have a glass of water, please?”

I ask Kaz, and he hands Carrie a bottle from the fridge.

“Thank you.”

Just then, the door is opened again by the security guard who’s now taken a permanent post on the other side of the glass, and in walks three men. With Sasha acting like the family is going to murder us any moment and Carrie thinking the dog is going to attack her, I know it’s going to be me making sure this night isn’t a total disaster.

I watch them greet the brothers, and it’s even clearer now that he’s the boss when they all wait to greet him first before moving on to the others.

Once they’re done, I approach them with a smile.

“Hi, gentlemen.”

“Well, hello, gorgeous,”

one of the new men says, giving me an easy grin that gives me creepy vibes. "What's your name?"

“Aria. Would you three like to take a celebratory shot of Almaz?”

I know exactly how to play assholes like him.

“Of course.”

His eyes roam around my face and then down my body.

“Will you join us?”

What sounds like a low growl comes from behind me, and I know it wasn’t the dog.

“I can’t. I’m working right now, but I’ll buy a bottle later and try it.”

Sasha comes up beside me then with a tray of nine new shot glasses and I grab the bottle from the ice bucket and fill each one.

“Are those your diamonds, Maksim?”

one of the new men asks after they toss their shots back. His eyes roam from my ears to my neck, to my wrist, and then down the rest of me like he’s going to find more hidden somewhere.

“Yes, they are. I thought the release of Almaz called for some real diamonds to be showcased along with the vodka.”

“You wear them beautifully,”

the creepy guy says to me, and I give him a polite smile, playing my part.

“Thank you,”

I respond, but then he barks out something in Russian, his harsh tone making all the men look at him in surprise and confusion.

“Izvinite, Daniil,”

the man says with a bow of his head, and I peek out of the corner of my eye to see who I now know is named Daniil, give a curt nod in return.

Daniil.

It’s a sexy name, and a name that suits him.

Feeling the tension, and feeling like it’s somehow my fault, I clear my throat and ask.

“Would anyone like anything besides vodka to drink?”

“I’ll have an old fashion,”

one of them says, and the tension is immediately broken when the others start to rib him for his choice.

I breathe a sigh of relief and retreat to the bar with the girls, giving the order to Kaz.

“Do you have any idea what he just said to that guy?”

Sasha asks in a harsh whisper again.

“No.”

I shrug, not sure I want to know.

“He told him he’s not allowed to look at you anymore. None of them are.”

That gives me pause. “What?”

“He basically warned them away from you and staked his claim in front of all of them. You need to be careful.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t.”

She takes me by the elbow and leads me to the end of the bar, away from any listening ears.

“They’re all bratva and Daniil is the Pakhan. The boss. He’s not a good man, Aria. None of them are. I grew up in Brighton Beach and have heard all the stories about his family. My father had a run-in with his back in the day and it wasn’t good. His son isn't any better."

“I know who they are,”

I tell her.

“You do?”

“Yes, I know who they are and I’ll be fine. Thank you for the concern, but trust me, I’m safe and I’ll be fine.”

Her brows furrow in confusion, but before she can ask any follow-up questions, I squeeze her hand.

“Let’s get through the night. They’ll drink and look at pretty women in short dresses and diamonds.”

I shrug. “Easy.”

I walk back over to where the bartender is finishing the old fashion and I place it on my tray.

I’m Aria fucking Carfano. I can handle myself.