Bratva Prince (Bratva Series Book 2)

I cuffed The Dirty Vultures biker to the old rickety chair in the centre of the room, his body limp and smelling of rotten fish. His head hung forward, dry blood coating his skin and a painful groan falling from his lips. He hadn’t woken up since Dayton knocked him unconscious, not even when I dragged him from the car into the pit.

After arriving home, I sent Dayton off to enjoy the rest of his night as he saw fit. One of our soldiers had been assigned to follow him around wherever he went, making sure he didn’t get into anything he shouldn’t.

Dayton was all too glad to get away from me, rushing off quicker than I’d ever seen him move. I couldn’t really blame him. He’d seen a side to me I hadn’t been prepared to show him yet. I was planning to work up to it, ease him into the more violent aspects of this life. But the bikers had forced my hand, leaving me no choice but to unleash that dark side of me I kept locked up inside. To put them in their place.

There was no way I could allow their disrespect, regardless of whether or not they knew who I was. They had to be punished for their indiscretions to see that we would not tolerate anyone making the slightest move against us.

It was the only reason I let Tweener live. I wanted him to go back to his prez and tell him exactly what happened while he was covered in the blood of one of his other prospects. To warn him that if they got in our way again, they would suffer ten times worse.

Taking Baldy had been an impulse decision, one I hoped would work out in our favour. If The Dirty Vultures were responsible for the fire that burned down our building, I planned to find out.

I highly doubted a prospect had much information. They were the grunts of the MC world, the lowest ranking members. They did whatever they could, whatever was asked of them, in the hopes of earning their patch and finally being given a road name (they were usually the worst, most tedious jobs too).

But I’d take any information I could get out of him. Even if it was just the layout of their Clubhouse or how many members there were.

“So how did this happen again?” Nik leaned casually against the wall, watching as I secured each of Baldy’s legs to the chair.

Nik had come out of the house the moment we pulled up. I suspect he’d been waiting for us. He informed me the Cleaners had arrived shortly after we’d left, and he wiped all footage from the cameras. As a precaution, he also called our contacts in the LVPD and told them to be on the lookout for anyone who comes in reporting a murder on 22^nd Street–just in case there happened to be a witness.

“Three of them were waiting at the car when I left the café.” I described what happened in detail, making sure to include the parking fee they charged to anyone who parked on the streets. “It seems the information Thomas gathered on them was right. They’re trying to corner North Las Vegas as their own territory.”

Nik shook his head in disbelief. “The fact that they’re threatening random citizens on the streets shows how ballsy they are. They don’t seem to care about the other gangs and MCs already established in that area.”

He was right. There were several other gangs and MCs up and down Las Vegas. A few of them were our customers, buying a small number of untraceable handguns. And in some cases, they bought machine guns from us too.

I suspected that was one of the reasons why The Dirty Vultures reached out to us; they needed guns to challenge the others and enforce their word.

“They’re definitely determined,” Nik finished, brows creased.

“Yes,” I nodded. “And that makes them dangerous.” There was nothing wilder and more unpredictable than people with something to prove. The Dirty Vultures were nothing, not even a blip on the radar, but it was clear they wanted to be. They wanted to be known, and that was the dangerous part.

Nik pushed off the wall, eyeing Baldy with mild curiosity. “What are you going to do with him?”

“What do you think?” I grunted, testing the restraints one more time before moving to a stand.

“He’s a Prospect. He won’t know anything substantial.”

“He’ll know enough.” And even if it didn’t lead to anything, I would still get the satisfaction of killing him.

Nik shrugged. “Alright, if you say so. What about the retaliation from his Prez?”

“What about it?” I asked, unconcerned. “If he’s stupid enough to challenge us, his little motorcycle club will be over before it ever really begins.”

It might sound cocky and arrogant, but I wasn’t even the slightest bit worried. They were seriously outmanned and out-gunned. Not to mention the fact that the only resistance they’d encountered so far was from normal everyday people who were too scared to stand up to them. If they came for us, they’d soon see why they were at the bottom and we were on top.

Nik followed me as I stepped out of the room, locking the door behind me. I went into the room next door that held a small bathroom and washed my face, cleaning Peroxide’s dried blood off my skin. I shrugged out of my jacket—stiff and crusty from his blood—and left it hanging on the rack as I walked out.

“I managed to dig up a bit more information on the Outfit/Zeta alliance,” Nik said as we wound our way through the maze of hallways, heading back towards the main floor. We walked past the room holding Drea and my footsteps slowed until I stood in front of it.

Why, I had no idea.

Sasha and Pavel greeted us with a head nod but said nothing as Nik continued to talk.

“According to one of my contacts, Nero reached out about two months ago for a meet. He ended up kidnapping the representatives the Zetas sent to establish the deal.”

“Drea,” I confirmed. We had suspected this was the case, but at least now we had confirmation.

“Yes. Ever since, the Zetas have been fielding men out to the Outfit whenever they wanted, doing whatever they asked. They’ve been supplying them with men, cash, drugs—you name it.”

“This is information we were already aware of.”

When we first met with Arturo and his family, they mentioned the alliance between the Outfit and the Los Zetas. It was one of the main reasons they’d reached out to us. They could handle the Outfit on their own, but when the Zetas got involved, they needed a bit of extra help.

We did some digging into the cartel. The month prior to the meet between us and The Cosa Nostra, there had been a definitive increase in men coming from the Outfit and an increase in drugs in Chicago.

It was obvious it had come from the Zetas. What hadn’t been obvious was why. Until now.

“How about the fact that Juan, the Zetas’ second, is actually Andres’ son. Since Juan and Drea are siblings, that makes her—”

“The daughter of the former leader of the cartel,” I finished, my mind reeling.

When I scanned Drea’s fingerprint, the information it revealed showed her and her family—her brother, Juan Victor Ortega, her mother, Sofia Torres Ortega and her father, Jose Andres Ortega—had immigrated from Guadalajara fifteen years ago.

Jose Andres Ortega.

The former leader of the Los Zetas only went by El Diablo or Andres. Nothing else. I should have realised it the moment I saw his name on the scanner. The two were one in the same.

I assumed using his middle name instead of his first name was some sort of preventive measure. A way to keep his real identity a secret from the many, many enemies the cartel had.

Like father, like daughter.

“Okay,” I began, pacing up and down the hallway, my mind moving a mile a minute trying to piece everything together. “So Andres is Juan and Drea’s father. Andres died four years ago from cancer. He named a successor before he passed, one who chose to remain hidden instead of out in the open. His son is second in charge, so it’s clearly not him. Does Andres have any other children?”

“No. None that I could find anyway.”

“And the mother? His wife?”

“I couldn’t find much on her, but I don’t think she’s the one calling the shots.” Nik’s brows were lowered in thought. “If it’s not the wife, and it’s not the son, that means the only other person it could be is—”

“Drea,” I finished, straightening my spine. “Drea is the leader of the Los Zetas.”

It all made so much sense now. Why Nero kidnapped her. Why she was so determined to keep her identity a secret. Why the other men listened to her when she gave them a command.

Drea was in charge of it all. We had the leader of the Los Zetas locked up in our pit. The repercussions were astronomical.

I had to commend her. She did a fantastic job of hiding her true identity. I never would have guessed it. I knew she was high up in the food chain. I just didn’t realise she was actually on top of it.

The moment the Zetas realised we had her, all hell would break loose.

How Nero managed it, I had no idea. He’d obviously threatened Drea’s life in order to keep the cartel under his thumb and do his bidding. I had questions, so many questions. Finding out her identity was meant to make things easier. Instead it created more problems, more unanswered questions.

I was done playing games. Enough was enough. I was getting the answers I wanted—and she was going to give them to me.

“All of you, go. I want to talk to her alone.”

Sasha and Pavel left, but Nik remained. He eyed me curiously. “What’s the plan here, Zander?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You don’t need to worry about that right now. Just go. And turn the cameras off in her room.”

“Why?”

I arched an eyebrow. “Do I need to explain myself to you?”

“No. But you usually do.”

“Not this time.” I shook my head. “Just do what I ask, brother.”

He huffed, arms lowering to his side. “Fine. But the next time I see you, you’re going to explain to me what the deal is with you and her.” He pointed to the closed door. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed there’s something going on. You’re not the merciful type. Yet you haven’t tortured the information we need out of her. You’ve given her food, bathroom breaks, a shower. All things we’ve never allowed other prisoners—not even the men she came in here with. Either you’re slipping or there’s more to it, and you’re going to tell me what.”

“Fine,” I shrugged with indifference. “I’ll tell you what’s going on when you tell me about what happened with you and Tatiana.”

He reared back as if I’d slapped him. Hurt and sadness flashed in his eyes for the briefest moment before he could hide it. “That-that’s different.”

“Is it?” I asked, a questioning look on my face.

“Yes! Tatiana isn’t the leader of a rival cartel. She’s—”

“What?”

He clamped his mouth shut.

“Exactly. What goes on between the two of you is none of my business. Just like what goes on between Drea and I is none of yours.”

“It’s not the same thing, Aleksandr, and you know it,” he spat.

Ha. He called me ‘Aleksandr’. That meant he was definitely pissed. He only called me that when he was mad at me.

“It is and it isn’t. So unless you’re planning to spill the beans, go do what I asked you to do.”

Nik glared, eyes full of frustration and anger. “Fine,” he gritted out. “But you owe me a round in the ring.”

Yeah, I should have seen that one coming. Bringing Tatiana into it was a bit of a low blow on my part. I knew how sensitive he was when it came to her.

If I was being honest, I only mentioned her to throw him off his game. Because he was right about Drea. I had allowed her certain luxuries other prisoners weren’t given. Nik noticed. I needed to distract him and Tatiana was the perfect way to do that.

He was going to try and make me pay for it now, by going head-to-head in the ring.

“Sounds like fun,” I smirked, which pissed Nik off even more.

It was very rare we got into the ring with one another, outside of a light spar or training. He was thirty-two—only two years younger than me—and he had a build similar to my own. He was shorter by only an inch or so.

We’d never fought each other out of anger before. Being so close together in age, we had a strong bond growing up. It had always been Nik and I against Lukyan and Illayana. There was over a ten-year age gap between us and them, so it made sense that Nik and I were close and Lukyan and Illayana were close.

That’s not to say we all weren’t close as a whole. Apart from the odd sibling squabble, we all got along with each other, cared for one another. There was just a definitive line between the older siblings and the younger ones.

Nik narrowed his eyes. “You won’t be smirking when I put you flat on your back.”

I felt a chuckle rise up in my throat. “You haven’t been able to do that yet, brother. But I look forward to the day you do.”

I opened the door to Drea’s room, walking inside and shutting it behind me. She was lying flat on her back, feet propped up on the wall at a ninety degree angle. Her hands were on the back of her head, heaving herself up and down in what looked like sit ups or ab crunches.

She paused halfway back up when I entered the room, glancing over her shoulder. She gave me what could only be described as an evil death glare before turning back around, continuing what she was doing as if I hadn’t just come in.

There was a mountain of things she could possibly be angry at, so I didn’t think too much about it. I walked towards her.

She didn’t say a word, the only sound in the room being the small puffs of air she breathed out with each rep.

I stared down at her as I towered over her, waiting for that sassy attitude that always made my dick hard. For her to say something, to yell at me, curse me out in Spanish, insult me. But nothing came. I don’t know what I had expected, but Drea’s silence and complete indifference certainly wasn’t it. She was acting like I wasn’t even in the room.

I didn’t fucking like it. From that very first moment I met her, she’d been a breath of crazy, eccentric air. She was a chatterbox, talking a mile a fucking minute. She had no problem with telling me off. In fact, she seemed to enjoy it.

Where was that Drea?

“Are we not talking today, malyshka?”

She didn’t respond, her upper body going up and down, up and down.

I gritted my teeth. Was she pissed off about last night, about the fact that I’d essentially ignored her for the day?

“Or would you prefer I call you Don Ortega?”

Her whole body stiffened, head snapping to me. Disbelief flared across her face. “How did you—”

“How is irrelevant, don’t you think?” I arched my brow. “Do you realise how different things might be if you’d just told me who you were when I asked you the first time?”

Drea snorted, jumping to her feet. I didn’t move back to give her space, so she was wedged between me and the wall. There was no fear, no discomfort. She didn’t look like a person scared of being boxed into a corner. She glared up at me like she was the one in charge.

“You would have used me the same way Nero did.”

I felt the desire to scoff, but held it in. “You are aware of who we are, da?” Yes? She hadn’t asked outright, but I suspected she knew. Most people involved in organised crime knew who the big players were.

The Italian Mafia, the Triad and The Bratva. The Holy Trinity. Although we were anything but holy.

There were, of course, other smaller syndicates and gangs that might not have been as well known.

“You’re the Bratva.” Her voice didn’t quiver, didn’t shake. Her eyes didn’t hold an ounce of fear, even though I knew our reputation was the stuff of nightmares.

I stepped closer, loving the way the fire in her eyes intensified as my body pressed her into the wall. “Yes, we’re the Bratva. And we have no need for your men, drugs or guns. We have our own—and they are all better than yours.”

“My, my, aren’t we a cocky, arrogant bunch.”

One of my shoulders lifted in a small, casual shrug. “When you’ve been on top for as long as we have, you have the right to be. It comes with the territory. Now that there’s no point in hiding anymore, you might as well tell me how you got yourself in this position.”

“Uh, are you serious?” she scoffed. “You kidnapped me. That’s fucking how.”

I placed my hands on the wall either side of her head, boxing her in. “And how did Nero kidnap you?” I asked, leaning in. “How did you end up chained to his bed?”

She headbutted me. It was so quick, so unexpected, it took me completely by surprise.

I stumbled back in shock. Pain throbbed from my lip, blood trickling down my chin from the fresh cut. I swiped my finger through the blood and looked at it, still trying to register what the fuck just happened.

Why I felt the need to smile, I had no idea. Out of all the things I should be feeling, amusement shouldn’t be one of them, right?

“I am sick and tired of you telling me what to do. Demanding all these fucking answers from me, like you have any right to them,” Drea growled, her fists clenched at her side. “I don’t want you to talk to me. I don’t want you to touch me. I want nothing to do with you. Send in one of the other guys—Lucas, or whatever his name was. I’ll answer his questions. But yours?” she shook her head. “No. If your boss wants answers, he’d better send someone else because I’m not saying a goddamn thing to you.”

“Quite a drastic change from last night, malyshka.”

Something was off and I couldn’t figure out what. Even when I kidnapped her, she wasn’t this raging mad. Her whole body was shaking, teeth grinding together, her jaw clenched.

She glared at me with this seething, repulsed look, like I disgusted her. “I’ve said what I needed to say. Unless you plan to torture the information out of me, get the fuck out of my face.”

“All this because I didn’t come see you today? Really?” I had no idea if that was why she was so angry, but it seemed like a good enough guess. Some women got that way, expected something from you after you’d hooked up with them. I didn’t peg her as the type though, which was why I was so confused.

She threw her head back and laughed. My eyes hooked onto that long, slender neck, itching to wrap my hand around it. “Get over yourself. I couldn’t give a flying shit about that. You think it means something that I dry humped you naked? Sorry to disappoint you Big Guy, but that’s a regular Tuesday fucking night for me.”

“Then what the fuck is your issue?” I snapped, my anger rising.

“Apart from being locked in this fucking room that reeks of stale blood and piss, you mean?” she barked back.

“I gave you the chance to change your surroundings. You chose not to take it.”

“Because I’m no snitch,” she hissed. “I’ll die before I talk.”

I stared deep into her eyes, seeing nothing but truth. She would die before she told me a thing. That only left me with two options: torture the information out of her, or let her go. Both options didn’t sit well with me.

I shook my head. I had to get a fucking grip. Another option formed in my mind. I walked towards the door, opening it wide. “Let’s go,” I grunted.

She scowled. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Maybe she thought I was taking her to the showers again, hoping for a repeat of last night.

I won’t lie, the idea made blood rush to my cock instantly, but that wasn’t what I had in mind.

“Do you want a different room or not?”

Blinking slowly, she processed my words. “Different room?”

“Unless you want to stay here?” I arched an eyebrow.

She studied me, suspicion burning in her eyes. She huffed. “Well of course I don’t want to fucking stay here,” she snapped, marching towards me, shoulders back and head held high. “I don’t know what your game plan is, but I’m not going to fall for it.”

To be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure what my game plan was, either.

I led Drea up to the main floor and outside the warehouse. I kept a close eye on her as I led her towards the house. Her eyes were scanning everything, and I saw the exact moment she decided she was going to try something.

I spun so quickly it caught her off guard and rammed my gun under her chin. Her eyes widened in shock. “Do it,” I whispered softly, bringing my lips an inch away from hers. “I’d love nothing more than to chase you down and drag you back here kicking and fucking screaming.”

Her pupils dilated, lust and need swallowing them whole. She looked like she was still debating actually doing it. My pulse spiked.

Yes, the beast in me purred. It wanted to hunt, to chase. To dominate.

Would she do it?

I ran the barrel of my gun down her neck, through the valley of her breasts and over her flat stomach. She squirmed, her hips rolling so slightly I don’t think she was even aware of it. I wedged it between her clenched thighs and her breath hitched.

“No?” I tilted my head to the side, lowering my voice. “Scared?” I taunted.

Her spine stiffened and she glared. “There wouldn’t be a point,” she snapped, frustration lining her face. “I wouldn’t make it five feet.”

True.

I stepped back, tucking my gun away. I waved a hand through the air. “Go ahead. I’ll give you a head start.”

She licked her lips, her hands clenching and unclenching as she looked at her surroundings again. I saw the desire in her eyes. She wanted to do it, and I wanted to fucking let her.

“I’m not playing your stupid, twisted little games.”

I ran my eyes slowly up and down her curvy body. My blood felt hot in my veins, an overwhelming sexual need twisting my gut. I’d never wanted to hunt someone so fucking badly. To hear her breath quicken as I closed in on her. To feel her body fight against mine as I dragged her to the ground and fucked her so hard she’d forget everyone who came before me.

“Pity,” I said nonchalantly, acting like I wasn’t fucking dying inside for the taste of her. I gave her my back as I made my way up the gravel pathway towards the back of the house.