Broken Promises – Sokolov Bratva Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Insta-Love, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
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“Oh, I thought I was making you nervous.”

He forces a laugh. “No, you’re right. You’re right about the pledge, too. Mila will be a Bratva queen when you marry her. Yes. Good thinking.”

“I’m sure you’ll want to attend, then,” I say.

He looks like a trapped animal who’d prefer to be anywhere else, but he forces a nod. I wonder just how bad he is. Is he like my father, free with his fists, saying nothing kind, always putting a person down? Or is he even worse? If this was Lia’s father and he had hurt her before… Damn, just thinking that makes my blood boil. He wouldn’t be leaving this room alive.

“Yes, of course,” he replies.

“It will be good for our families and friends to get to know each other,” I say. “After the wedding, we’ll spend much more time together for pleasure and business.”

He smiles, dabbing away, but his eyes won’t settle. He’s wondering what happened. If I’m not the one who iced his men, then who? Or if I did ice them, do I know he has a connection with them? It’s like I can hear his thoughts fluttering away.

“How are things, anyway?” he says. “Enough business. How are you holding up?”

It’s so hard not to smirk at this. He’s a decent actor, though, just like my father was and I am. We’re all liars in this life, but that will make me more honest and direct with my woman.

“Oh, you know,” I say noncommittally. “I’m just glad he made arrangements for me. I think we’re going to do good work together.”

“Yes, me too. Please let me know about the pledge.”

“Of course.”

An awkward silence stretches between us. He puts his handkerchief away, then forces another smile. “How’s my lovely daughter doing?”

“She’s well,” I tell him, “but she misses her brother.”

“Ah,” Nikolai says, an ugly darkness entering his eyes. “Yes, well, he has his place and purpose, just like all children. Look at you, Dimitri. Were you ever free to choose your own path as the eldest son?”

“No.”

“And do you hate your father for it?”

“Not for that,” I answer honestly. “It’s my duty, and I’ll do it. I’ll make the city a better place.”

Nikolai smirks like the thought is absurd.

“For example,” I go on, “all of my men know that trafficking is off-limits here.”

“You’re saying there’s no trafficking in Vegas?” His tone is ugly.

“No,” I reply. “But it’s much harder for people to get away with it. You’ve heard the stories.”

“Men without tongues or hands or feet or cocks left in shipping containers. As a warning.”

“Nobody would mourn scum like that.”

“You know my business,” Nikolai snaps. He deals in flesh, and now he wants to get offended.

“I do,” I tell him, “and I meant what I said.”

Basically, I’m calling him scum to his face. It’s the furthest I can go without getting outright violent with him. After a long pause, I crack a smile and then laugh. He knows it’s bullshit. He knows it’s fake, but he chooses to laugh with me. That’s how so many corpses are avoided in this life—through laughter.

Then he stands, abruptly cutting it off like he wants to make a point of the laughter being fake. “The pledge, then.”

I stand, waiting for him to offer his hand. He’s so small and weasel-like. When he finally offers his hand, I wait a while before I take it, and then I shake it slowly while looking him in the eye. He walks around the table, approaching the door. Denis stands in his way momentarily, then steps aside, giving me a look.

Denis senses it. Things have changed. What else was I supposed to do, pretend I wanted his daughter, make up a bunch of shit about all the time we’ve been spending together? No, it’s time for the pledge: to do what’s right and risk what I have to.

My woman has inspired and changed me. I want to call her this second and tell her the effect she’s had on me. I want her to know that she’s changed me more just through speaking than I ever thought I could change.

As I leave the narrow corridor and emerge into the main lobby, Mikhail approaches me, lowering his voice. “I just had a fascinating conversation,” he says.

“Oh yeah, with who?”

“Oleg Novik,” Mikhail says, which does more than pique my interest. That’s a bombshell if ever there was one.

“Nikolai’s second-in-command? What did he have to say for himself?”

CHAPTER 20

DAHLIA

When Mila leaves, I do my best to lose myself in the act of painting. It was weirdly easier when I had nothing and nobody else. When my life was empty, and it was all I had to think about, I could sink into the craft so much easier. It was my escape. Now, I don’t want to escape life. I don’t want to be the silent nobody stalking down the hallway.


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