Ruthless Mafia King: A Dark Bratva Arranged Marriage Romance

“Why the fuck am I paying you?” I yell at Peter. “Do your damn job, or I’ll find someone else to do it!”

I slam my fist against my desk. That motherfucker will lose a lot more than his job if he continues failing. At this point, I’m out of options.

“Calm down, Nik,” Roman pleads, though his tone is strained.

“Calm down?” I echo, the vein in my forehead popping out. “How the fuck should I calm down when I can’t even take Kata out for dinner without having to watch my back? I asked you to locate Yakov. You didn’t. I asked you to keep an eye on Igor. You lost him. What are you lot good for? Why do I even bother keeping you around?”

“We’ve been friends for a long time, Nik,” Ivan says, taking a step forward to block Peter and Roman from my sight. “When you decided to grab Katarina, we warned you what would follow, and yet, you went ahead and did it anyway. You can’t expect us to perform miracles just because you now want to woo the girl.”

“I don’t want any damn miracles,” I snap back. “I want my enemies to be dealt with. We still don’t know who attacked our oil rigs.”

“Actually,” Peter says, then clears his throat when my attention turns to him. “We strongly believe Dimitri Sokolov and his new business partners are behind that attack.”

“Strongly believe?” I mock. “Where’s the damn proof? I want to be one hundred percent sure it was them before I burn their house to the ground.”

“We’re still investigating,” Roman pipes in. “It’s not easy. You have us stretched thin.”

“What about the phone call I received?” I ask. “Did you at least manage to find out where it came from?”

“It was a burner phone,” Peter replies.

“So a dead end, then,” I say through gritted teeth.

“All we know is that the call came from the New York area,” Peter insists. “If Dimitri is behind the attack in Russia, we’re safe to assume it wasn’t him.”

“An enemy of your enemy is your friend,” Ivan muses, pacing my office.

“What are you saying?” I ask, cutting straight to the point.

He stops pacing. “What if it was Gargarin who called you?”

I scoff. “That’s absurd. I’ve never had any dealings with them.”

“You didn’t, but Dimitri did. They hate each other’s guts,” Ivan replies.

“Ivan could be on to something,” Roman agrees.

“If that’s so, then why didn’t Gargarin get in touch again?” I demand.

“Because you beat the shit out of his son,” Peter chimes in.

I scratch my chin and pace the office. The silence stretches, allowing me to gather my thoughts.

“Do we have an eye on the Gargarins?” I finally ask. “Do we know what they’re up to?”

“No,” Peter responds. “I can assign a few men to them.”

“Maybe we should reach out to our friends in Moscow to ask them to send reinforcements,” Roman comments. “A storm’s brewing, and I’d hate for us not to be prepared when it comes.”

“Do it,” I tell him. “But also don’t forget to bring me the answers to my current questions. My patience won’t last much longer.”

“All in due time,” Peter assures me as he nods.

“Now if there’s nothing else, get ready. Boris will be here soon,” I tell them.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Roman mutters. “The Olenkos are the scum of the city. They’re in league with Dimitri now, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was them who ordered a hit on you in Dimitri’s name.”

“That’s what we need to find out,” I tell them. “We need to know who our enemy is. Knowledge is power.”

The three men spread around the room as my secretary informs me that Boris, Vladimir, and Fedot have arrived. She shows them to my office, where they find themselves outnumbered four to three.

“Nikolai,” Boris’s deep voice booms through the room.

I lift my chin and narrow my eyes at him. “That’s Mr. Volkov. Don’t be presumptuous. We’re not friends.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” he says dismissively, then offers me his hand.

“Sit down,” I order as I raise my own hand, refusing to shake his.

The man doesn’t seem to pay any mind to my rejection and walks past me to one of the chairs. His brother and nephew aren’t as good at hiding their emotions. The anger is written all over their faces.

“You called us, and here we are,” Boris says. “Why?”

“I’m going to ask you a couple of questions, and you better pray that I like your answers.”

He chuckles. “You have no authority over me. You and I are in different businesses. You stay out of my way, and I’ll do the same.”

I glare at him. “That’s just the thing, Boris,” I say, deliberately using his first name. “You’re not staying out of my way. In fact, you’re throwing rocks in it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Boris replies, but his seemingly easy demeanor is now gone. His body is tense, and his eyes are shifty. There’s definitely something bothering him.

I make the choice not to comment on his lie. Instead, I draw the spotlight to his family.

“Fedot,” I murmur. “I’ve heard a lot about you. A real up-and-comer. I’ve also heard that Dimitri has been favoring you to marry my fiancée.”

“And I heard that she didn’t want to marry you, so you decided to kidnap her instead.” He huffs, getting to his feet. “If you’re a real man, you’ll let her go.”

“Katarina is free to leave or stay,” I reply cooly. “She can do whatever she wants. And guess what? She prefers to stay with me rather than return home.”

“Fucking liar!” Fedot shouts, lunging forward with his fist raised.

Ivan and Peter meet him halfway. They’ve put a gun to his head before he’s made another step.

Boris moves to get up, but Vladimir stops him.

“Just calm down,” Vladimir begs, his eyes pleading for his son’s life. “Fedot and Kata are childhood friends. He cares about her well-being. That’s all.”

I keep my eyes locked on Fedot for a while longer before turning the entire force of my attention back to Boris. “Here’s the deal, and you better accept it because I’ll only offer it once,” I say, my voice cold and formal. “I don’t care whatever agreement you have with Dimitri Sokolov, but it ends now. You don’t pick up the phone. You don’t talk to him. You don’t go anywhere near him or his family. Your partnership’s done. Is that clear?”

Despite the two guns pointed their way, Boris tilts his head back and laughs. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Nikolai, but no one does justice to your sense of humor,” he muses. “You’re a funny guy.”

“I don’t have a sense of humor, Boris,” I murmur and point the gun Ivan hands me toward his crotch. “I know you run strip clubs. I’m sure you like to test the girls yourself. I’d hate to see anything happen to your . . . equipment. Now, let me ask you again. Is that fucking clear?”

Boris glares at me, his gaze burning as he gives his answer.

“Sooner or later, you’ll get what’s coming to you,” he finally mutters. “You have more enemies than friends.”

“Is that what you think?” I wonder out loud. “Well, if that’s so, I’ll share a little secret with you, just to show that there are no hard feelings.” I lean my elbows on my desk. “I have plenty of friends infiltrated deep inside your tacky clubs. One word from me, and they’ll burn your businesses to the ground along with the slimy patrons inside them.”

Silence descends, seconds ticking by slowly, as if time itself is getting on my nerves. I don’t want to indulge Boris any longer. This conversation’s far from over, but I’m calling it to an end for now.

“Keep your brother in check,” I say to Vladimir, recognizing him as the smarter of the two. I then turn to Fedot. “And you—you better forget about Kata. She’s mine.”

I know my words sting, but I don’t need Fedot thinking of himself as a knight in shining armor. If he turns stupid, it’ll be harder to avoid ending his life, which could very much cause a war. Killing him would be the opposite of profitable.

“Now get out,” I order, lifting my chin, a silent signal of dismissal.

Ivan lowers his gun and casually handles it as the three men vacate their seats. He escorts them out of the office.

“Should we have someone watch them?” Peter asks, peeking outside through the small window in the door. “I don’t like them. They’re arrogant assholes.”

“They are, but they’re not our biggest threat,” I reply. “We should focus on Dimitri and Gargarin right now. Olenko is loud and disgusting, but he’s a weak bastard.”

“I agree with Nik,” Roman says. “That Fedot guy’s a prick too, but that has to do with Katarina.”

Ivan comes back to the office and shuts the door. He gives me a nod. “They’re gone.”

“Good,” I say, the corners of my mouth lifting up in a small smile as I glance at the clock. “I better get some work done before going home. I don’t want to keep Katarina waiting.”

Roman, Peter, and Ivan make some jokes about me being whipped, but one look from me, and they change their tune. When it comes to my relationship with Katarina, I won’t tolerate jesting and teasing. I’m not sure what Kata means to me, but I won’t have other people making wild guesses. Even if they are joking.

If what she and I have doesn’t measure up to love, it doesn’t change the fact that she’ll be my wife. The sooner people learn to treat her that way, the fewer deaths my conscience will have to carry.