Ruthless Mafia King: A Dark Bratva Arranged Marriage Romance

Ivan’s name flashes on the screen of my cell phone.

Though it’s the middle of the night, I hurry to pick up the call. After the way the past twenty-four hours unfolded, I need rest. But my head is killing me, making it impossible to drift off to sleep and, for a blissful moment, forget the world.

“Boss,” Ivan says. “Katarina has been spotted at Solanum.”

“Is your man still on her?” I ask.

“Yes, he’s keeping an eye on her from a distance,” Ivan replies. “Her friend is with her. They’ve both been drinking.”

I get up, put the phone on speaker, and start to get dressed. “Keep me posted if anything changes. And text me the address of the club. I want to be there just in case they decide to leave.”

“Will do,” he says. “Do you want me to meet you there?”

“No, I’ll do this alone,” I tell him, checking myself in the mirror. I adjust my collar and square my shoulders. “You get some rest. You’ve earned it.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” he mumbles. “Keep your eyes open, Nik. We don’t know who else could be lurking in Solanum’s shadows.”

“Rest easy, brother,” I tell him and hang up.

A young man on security detail perks up when I walk into the hallway. “Everything okay, boss?”

“What car do you drive?” I ask, thinking I should go for something less conspicuous.

He seems to hesitate before he finally clears his throat and collects himself.

“It depends. Do you need a driver, sir, or someone to wait for you?” he asks in an overly professional manner.

“Neither,” I tell him and clear my throat. “I’ll be on my own tonight. It’s personal. So, what car do you drive?”

The man seems to relax, standing straighter.

“I have a black Honda Civic,” he replies.

“That will do,” I tell him. “I need your key.”

“Of course, sir,” he says as if on autopilot, handing it over.

“I’ll remember this,” I tell him with a nod. “Where did you park?”

“On West 79th, between Columbus and Amsterdam. South side of the street.”

“I’ll be back soon,” I say. “Wake up Miss Olga and tell her that I’ll be bringing our guest.”

I head out and get in the security guard’s modest car. In no time, I’m out on Riverside Drive, speeding downtown and keeping an eye on my back. This is it. I didn’t even need to wait weeks for the chance to snatch Katarina Sokolov.

She was practically gift-wrapped for me.

All I have to do is take her and stash her away.

It doesn’t take long for me to find Solanum in SoHo. It’s more hidden than the clubs I’m used to, which surely benefits its reputation of being exclusive.

I park the car in front of a pump, not wanting to take the time to look for a garage. This won’t take long. With a racing heart, I hurry out, cutting past the long line straight to the bouncer. His eyes widen as he recognizes me, and he immediately steps aside, letting me in.

“Welcome, Mister Volkov,” he says, as I slide him a hundred-dollar bill.

My phone pings with a text from Ivan confirming that Katarina is still here.

It takes a moment to spot her in the crowd. She’s in the VIP area, sitting dangerously close to some guy. Her head is tilted to the side. When I take another look at her, it’s obvious she’s been drinking.

My frustration peaks at the sight of them flirting. Her father might have broken off the engagement, but she belongs to me until I say otherwise.

I slip into the corner, counting on the shadows to hide me as I observe the scene in the VIP area. A nagging feeling forces me to take a closer look at the guy. He’s familiar, but I can’t place him right now.

His lips twitch in a smirk as he stands up. She follows him. He hooks an arm around her waist, causing something painful to tug inside my chest. I clench my teeth as they disappear from view.

Katarina will be my wife. No one touches her.

When I push past the crowd to follow them to the back exit, the noise and lights come rushing back to me. I hold my breath and follow them. I’m careful when I reach the door, opening it just a crack to see if they’re there.

Away from the music, I can hear their conversation.

“You should start to feel it any moment now,” the man says, his voice strangely familiar.

“Feel what?” Katarina asks, her words slightly garbled.

“The drug that I put in your drink, of course,” he sneers with a soft chuckle.

My blood boils with fury at the sound of Katarina falling to the ground. With a death grip on the handle, I wrench the door open and burst into the alleyway. The light from the side of the building is enough to reveal two figures.

“No need to worry,” he tells her. “Just relax. I promise to show you a much better time than your brother did my sister.”

He makes a move to lift her limp body from the ground.

“Yakov Gargarin,” I hiss, my tone icy. I recognize him now, seeing the monster he hides behind his handsome features.

He snaps his gaze to me. Katarina’s body slips between his fingers. It’s as if he’s forgotten about her.

“Volkov,” Yakov snarls. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Everything that involves Katarina Sokolov concerns me,” I casually reply.

“Well, I should’ve known better than think it would be this easy.” He sighs and takes a step backward.

“Leave now, Yakov,” I warn in a low voice. “Go, or I will change my mind and tear you apart.”

“This is my vengeance,” Yakov says, gesturing at Katarina. “Igor took Ana’s innocence. Someone has to pay.”

“Find a different way,” I tell him. “Katarina is mine.”

For a moment, Yakov seems as though he will give up and leave. But then defiance flashes in his eyes and he lunges for her limp form.

I don’t give him the time to lay a finger on her. I punch him so hard in the face that I hear the bones in his nose break.

I’m used to people underestimating me. No one thinks that a billionaire in a tailored suit knows how to throw a punch. They think that I spend my days in front of monitors, but they don’t stop to consider that money can buy the best martial arts trainers. I’ve been practicing Krav Maga for over ten years now. Though I don’t like to get my hands dirty, I do what’s necessary.

As someone who knows how to take a hit, Yakov recovers quickly. He flashes his bloody teeth as he charges at me.

Before he can wrap his fingers around my throat, I shift my hips and jab my elbow in his. Yakov makes a gurgling sound and stumbles backward, holding a hand to his neck.

I keep my fists up to protect myself and roar, “If you don’t leave now, I won’t hold myself responsible for what comes next.”

“You’re the one who’s going to run,” Yakov coughs out, getting his act together enough to punch me.

But there’s not enough force behind his blow. I dodge it easily and step to the right to get out of his reach. For someone so massive, Yakov is rather impulsive. Though I’m sure his father trained him properly, he would benefit from spending some time learning how to control his emotions. They can be a fighter’s downfall.

“I have no fear, you fool,” I say, throwing another jab and striking his nose a second time. Bruises bloom beneath his skin.

I kick him in the gut, sending him flying. His back slams against the wall. Something cracks, but Yakov doesn’t whine or moan in pain. It’s almost as if he enjoys it. Or maybe he’s become numb.

I shake my head as I realize I can’t risk hitting him again. I can’t afford to add another powerful name to my list of enemies. Sergey Gargarin should stay Dimitri’s problem, not become mine.

Yakov straightens up. “You should.” He rushes at me like a maddened bull.

I take hold of his collar and shove him as hard as I can. His head bounces against the concrete wall. The second he falls back, I strike him again, immediately jumping away from his reach. A blow to his temple sends him crashing to the ground.

Though I’m not done with him, I also don’t want to kill him. Once he wakes up, he’ll understand that taking vengeance against me has a price.

I lean down and check his pulse. Finding it strong, I step back and kneel next to Katarina.

Her limp body twitches when I slide my arms under her form.

“Easy, serdtse,” I mutter when she whimpers. “I’m taking you home.”