Prologue
It had been storming the night Tee had her initiation into the Born Bratva family. Up until that point it had been all fun and games with Novak—until it wasn’t. He was the brother she didn’t have; a buddy who relished in teasing and taunting her as a way of showing his affection for her. He wasn’t a man given to emotion or amicable relationships, but theirs had been a natural progression that was free and easy like that of two siblings.
She’d seen a change in him that night; a change she had thought she was ready for, but the reality of the malevolence in his eyes revealed that all the rage and violence he’d ever encountered had been pooled there. It was like running into a brick wall of reality that she’d imagined but never encountered. These people were a whole new breed of organized crime and now she was part of them.
It had been the kind of storm that shook you to your bones as if the elements were in sync with the violence Benzo would suffer. Each strike of lightning was electric, and the sound of thunder was what nightmares were made of. She could remember hiding beneath the covers as a child until the storm passed. During this storm it was Sip who held her and made her feel safe, protected from the threat of doom. She’d felt safe in his arms while she did the most horrendous thing she’d ever done; stuck a blowtorch to a man and burned off his tattoos. The stars on Benzo’s knees were a counterfeit for a man who wanted to be Bratva but had been rejected. It was a lifestyle you were born into or the Pakhan grafted you in as one of his own—Benzo hadn’t earned that right and to take it upon himself was unacceptable. Sip’s hands had been warm and comforting as they held hers and guided them back and forth in a sweeping arc pattern. The blue and yellow fire danced as the smell of burnt flesh wafted through the air while Benzo’s flesh went from caramel brown to black. It had been as if they were creating their own piece of art for the Born Bratva legacy. She had bonded with a man who up until that point she had viewed as handsome. Sip was an Amazon; the kind of man you knew you were safe with. He was 6’3, 250 pounds of I wanna fuck you. His black hair was cropped short and his ocean blue eyes held an air of mystery and danger. Now it wasn’t just Sip who had been inserted into her life, but the Pakhan. Though they were connected to her in different ways; one as her boss, and the other as her man, she was still entrenched in a way of life that was new to her. She had heard the rumors of Glazov. He was a man whose presence put the strongest of people into a state of knee-trembling fear. She would be expected to live as a Born Bratva wife now even though she and Sip weren’t married. Glazov was a man who expected loyalty and adultery was forbidden. Unlike many criminal organizations that allowed mistresses; Glazov felt that disloyalty towards a wife or significant other was the highest form of deceit. If a man or woman could be that treacherous towards their own family, then their loyalties would never lie with Bratva. It was a rule Sip had already discussed with Tee and one he was in full agreement of. She was certain rules were made to be broken for some of the men, but she also knew they kept any extracurricular activities from the Pakhan for fear of his displeasure. To disappoint Glazov was an action that left even the most hardened of criminals with a feeling of tremendous regret.
She had been shocked to reality the night of the storm. It had been a slow deliberate and torturous encounter. Sip and Novak had enjoyed mutilating the man. The sadist buried beneath the jokes and teasing had been in the forefront; snarling and clawing like a predator enjoying a kill after a long satisfying hunt. The two men had circled their prey and they were tearing him apart like savage wolves. It was a bloodthirsty love of violence that was being given free rein. The monster had been released and now the beast couldn’t be caged. She was stunned when Novak handed her a torch to burn the stars from Benzo’s knees. She’d wondered if it was a test of some sort, and perhaps it had been. Maybe it was the coldhearted truth of Novak making sure she remained a friend for eternity—grafted in the fire. If it hadn’t been for Sip standing behind her; guiding her hands with his, she would have never been able to do it. Benzo deserved what had been done to him; passing himself off as Bratva. The Born Bratva organization took it as the highest form of disrespect. They had taken it personally and dealt with it accordingly.
She had gone back to the room and fucked Sip like a wild woman. He’d taken her in a primal rage of marking his territory. She knew instinctively he possessed her. She belonged to a man who was a killer—a man who would kill any other man who dared to embark on his territory. In a matter of just 24 hours, her life had drastically changed. Things would never be the same. She would never be the same, either. Now when she looked in the mirror, she would see a killer. Novak had warned her about the nightmares, but nothing could have prepared her.
It had stormed for a week. Mother Nature’s way of telling her she’d seen the atrocities of that night. She had been standing in the shadows of those woods watching the unspeakable acts that unfolded like a Broadway play of a family saga that was rooted in generations of crime. Tee had believed with the naivety of a child when the storm passed the nightmares would too. They had only become more vivid. It wasn’t just the visual of skin melting, but the stench of burning flesh, and the screams that sounded as if they originated in the portals of hell—a place where bodies rode the waves in a lake of fire. Each night it was more realistic; forcing her to relive the night she gave her identity to the Born Bratva family. She wondered if it would ever end. Would her death be the only thing that silenced the hounds of hell? Would they constantly pursue her through the forest of confusion she now wandered through like a nomad? She’d thought about therapy; until she realized any sane therapist would report the terrible things she relived on a leather couch in a stringent room. There were two people in the world she could open up to- Novak and Sip. There was a part of her that didn’t trust them. Their first allegiance was to the Pakhan. If they went to Glazov and told him she was suffering night terrors he would assume she wasn’t stable. She would have to walk through the maze of woodlands that were haunted rather than enchanted. She would have to force herself to suck it up. Surely others went through the same things or Novak wouldn’t have warned her about the nightmares.
There were regular meetings with the Pakhan. Tee knew he was watching her, reading her, and assessing how she was adjusting to the trauma. She hated the meetings. She felt like the man could read her thoughts and she wondered if he could see she was one step away from going over the edge.
Chapter One
Sip ran his fingers gently over Tee’s back. They had a game where he would write something, and she would guess what it was. It always amazed her how a man who was so large could be so gentle—a gentle giant in every sense of the term. She wondered if he feared he’d hurt her and that was the reason he was so careful. His size alone was enough to put the fear of God in most, but for her it only made her feel safe.
She rolled over and looked at Sip. He pulled her in close until his hard cock was rested against her. She rose up like a woman in need and sat down on him; easing down on him and savoring every inch. Her movements were slow as she adjusted to his size. She watched his face and his eyes pierced her like lasers. She rotated her hips so she could feel him stimulating her clit. A spark started in her lower belly until it roared like an out of control inferno sending her over the edge.