4. King of the Bratva 

4. King of the Bratva 

Rogue's POV 

I sat across from one of my old enemies, Rocco Elsionè, sipping from the glass of my drink. My boys thought he was here for a fight and got excited. After all, it has been two whole months since we last used our weapons and smelled the delicious scent of blood on our fingers. 

But the fucker didn't come with the intent to fight. No one would dare if you ask me. 

'No one but you.' My wolf, Clover, claimed. 'Only you've got the lunatic bone in your body that makes you invade others' territories and instigate them for a conflict.'

A grin spilled on my lips as I took another sip, watching Elsionè exhibiting the sample of powders he claims he's got shipped from Germany. 

"Just sniff this thing, Cordiero. One lick and you'll forget your worries." He scooped some on his forefinger and offered me. 

I continued to sit impassively. Elsionè forced a chuckle, "I ain't killing you today, Cordiero. Some other day maybe. Calm down." He remarked as if  I was really worried.

I rolled my eyes and licked my lips. As if he's really got the balls to irritate even a single strand of hair on my thigh let alone on my head. So suspecting him of harming my life is out of the question. 

"Mmm, one lick and every freaking teenager of your Washington will kill to barter for this." By the time he said that, I gulped the remaining content of my glass down my throat and sat upright. 

Having flexed my shoulders and rotating my neck, I blew out a wary heave. 

"Nice demonstration, Elsionè. I think I have a vacant spot for a salesman in one of my businesses. Do let me know if you need the job. Being a gangster is not your thing now." He gave me a look, his short-heighted guards going for the grip of their guns behind their backs. 

"You're too arrogant for your own good, Cordiero." He scoffed, his eyes darkening with chafe. 

As the head of the Bratva, I conduct various illegal businesses ranging from money laundering to shipping bulks and bulks of ammunition. I kidnap and kill like smashing mosquitoes under my palm. 

But getting teenagers addicted to drugs is not my thing. I do smuggle powders and weed but I don't intend to throw it in the paths of teenagers who should be worrying about their future whether they should become a sports person or a celebrity. Turning them into an addict and killing to acquire intoxication is the last thing I'd do. 

Not to mention as someone who aspires to father talented children myself, I would never turn the degree of others' children's future to three sixty for the sake of making some profit. 

I threw a glance at my watch, "You asked for ten minutes, Elsionè. I provided you with three minutes extra. But I am no charitable person and time is something I hate to spend with people I abhor. You're one of them"

I pointed at the entrance of my casino that was guarded by two heavy guards in a black suit, "You can take your ass off here and leave me be." 

"Never show me your face again." I uttered with a yawn and enjoyed the look of disbelief on his face. "I don't want to see you on my property either. If found, you'll be thrown to the hounds I pet without a second thought." 

"Don't be ridiculous, Cordiero." He said, trying to sound anything but a dog bit in the ass by another in a fight. "I've forwarded my hand for a peaceful bargain. Take it. Don't be arrogant. This deal will make us both unimaginable profit and within six months, we'd have several accounts overflowing with profits." 

Nodding in a no, I made it clear the topic was not up for discussion any longer. 

Igor, my right hand cum my bodyguard pulled him by the collar with disrespect. Shoving him out of the booth, he rumbled, "The discussion is over. Get out." 

"You're committing a mistake, Cordiero." He pushed Igor away. 

Considering the fire of enrage increasing one fold fiercer in his cloudy gaze, I had to force myself up. Taking Rocco Elsionè by the collar just like my bodyguard did, I dragged him like a dog while everyone watched us disappear until we were in front of the casino out under the dark sky. 

I let him go with a jerk. His bodyguards fell down next to him on the rough concrete as I put a gun across Elsionè's head, "Next time you dare to come here you'll go on four shoulders of your guards. And don't you think about circulating this shit anywhere in Washington. I'll have my eyes on you." 

Despite him trying to look bigger with his chest puffing out, he trembled like a deer caught under the headlights. He swore to never come anywhere in my casino. 

"Wait, I've changed my mind." I announced just before he was about to flee out of my eyesight. 

"You want to consider our deal?" 

"No, I want to make sure you can't pitch anybody else for a deal." 

"What does that mean?" I motioned to Igor and he snatched the leather bag from Elsionè.

In front of him I lit a lighter and the bag was no longer leather alone. But a ball of dancing and swaying flames.

"Noooo! Asshole, it was worth five million dollars." He clutched his hair, his face pinching into an expression full of devastation.

"I know," I said, returning the lighter back to its place in my holster. "One of the reasons behind burning it into ashes is to make sure it doesn't go anywhere else within Washington. It's over."

"I'll make you pay for this." 

It wasn't supposed to offend me since I forced him to incur a loss of millions. But it was so annoying I couldn't help pull the trigger until his brains exploded. Sending his guards to the same ride to hell, I ordered Igor to fix the mess and burn the bodies. 

To some this might look insane. This is pretty normal for me though. As the boss of Bratva, I kill daily. Sometimes for the safety of my organization and people. Sometimes to maintain fear in the heart of my enemies. And sometimes for fun. 

This has become a daily hustle for me since I held the reins of the Russian Mafia at the age of fifteen. 

Now you must be wondering, my life might have been pretty trashy and full of misery before becoming a mafia boss because fifteen is very young to be a boss! You'll be stupefied to know that my life was pretty amazing and full of love and life before I joined Mafia. 

My family was perfect with a loving mom and a rich father. Even my uncles and aunts held no issues or any negative feelings in their hearts. We lived together in a big manor with several dozen rooms in Moscow happily. My cousins were simply amazing too. I miss them. 

But I wanted more. 

More like passion. More like thrill. More like adventure. 

I didn't want to be a simple boss that sits behind a desk and barks instructions to a staff that works for money and a good standard of living. I craved more like barking orders that would declare wars. Make me new enemies and eventually make my life more interesting. And my staff being an army of retards who sought pleasure in the sight of blood and carcass. 

I wanted more power and more than a pack to rule. That's why I killed the old boss of the Russian Mafia when I was hardly fifteen. 

It was a well-planned murder. I would be proud of myself for that not because I captured the reins of Bratva merely when I had hit puberty, but because I took back what was my own before I was even born. 

My Great GrandFather was the Bratva Boss in his time and he was killed and his empire taken charge of. Since my Grandfather didn't want any strings with Bratva attached he left the syndicate and started on his own as a Nomad. 

My father followed suit. So did my uncles. But I was different. Some even call it lunacy. 

I despised my normal life and its smooth course toward plentiful happiness. It was boring. It was unsatisfying. 

What I do now is called life. This is the right kind of standard of living. Although every step is taken with measured safety because you never know when you're under attack. It is not something that bothers me though. Since I've been doing this since I was fifteen, I am certain by now you've understood it's a cakewalk for me. 

Anyway, I was smoking some blocks away from the cassino when a mind-blowing perfume hit my nostrils. I cast a glance over my shoulder at a temptress who was in a barely-there dress. 

"Aren't you afraid?" She swayed her hips, trying to tempt me. 

Her figure was to die for. Her pebbled nipples wanted a hot mouth like mine on them and that smile on her red lips was an indication that she was horny as fuck. 

"Afraid of what?" I let her throw herself in my arms. 

"Of death?" 

I feigned to be giving it a thought, "Would be if a sexy ass like yours was under my fingers and I had a gun on my head." 

I held her asscheeks tightly and snuggled her neck, "Trust me, it'd be a horrifying death." 

I've seen her in my casino before. She visits frequently but I've never seen her with a man. She turns down every guy who tries a shot at her. 

So you can imagine what it was like to have her in my arms. I kissed her neck, my hands roaming on her body. She was soft and desirable. 

"Kiss me." It spilled from her lips when I held her puckered nipple over the fabric. 

I leaned closer while sneaking my way between her legs. Just as I found her pussy dry as a peanut shell, her hand went behind her back to grasp something. 

"You think I didn't notice?" I caught her hand, holding a thin and pointed knife hair-breadth away from my neck. 

"Baby, the moment you walked into my casino, I knew your intentions." Twisting both her hands, I pinned her to a nearby car and shoved her face into the roof.

"Asshole! I'll kill you just the way you killed my father." She screamed and tried to get out of my hold. 

"Your father should've known what he's going to get, Barbara Elsionè." She's Rocco's daughter. 

When she came to my casino for  the first time, I knew she was here on her father's instructions. Twenty-eight with a fine body, she thought she could fool anyone. 

She's done that to many before me and helped her father in his business. But life doesn't unfold as you like all the time. There are some maniacs like me who like to decide the course of their lives... As well as others'. 

"He only wanted a deal that you so boastfully turned down and killed him!" 

"Is that it? A deal was all that he wanted? You forgot I am the Bratva Boss, and there's nothing that goes unseen by me." I let go of her only to have her come for me with her outgrown claws.

"I know the samples came from the drugs confiscated by the police, Barbara. Your father sought to sell me stuff that wasn't his own." 

"It doesn't matter, does it? You steal from others and sell it as if it's your own. Why's it considered wrong if my father wanted to do it?" 

I clutched her by the neck and held her a hand's distance away, "Barbara, everyone has a life span in this world. Today's the last day of your life and your father's."

With that I snapped her neck and allowed her body to slide down at my feet. Her lifeless eyes held my gaze as if saying I'll kill you. Until next time sweetheart. 

"Tell Igor to care of her too." I told the guard on watch outside the casino. "I want her body burned like others. Don't want any nutcase assaulting her dead body just because they couldn't get her when she was alive." 

Feeling drained to the point of depletion I headed toward my Bugatti. The only con about being a boss is lack of sleep. 

I don't mean the sleep you do to relax your body. I mean the other one... where you lay entwined with a woman, naked, without caring about your breaths, feeling her soft skin and playing with her boobs. 

Inevitable calls make me leave my mistresses in the middle of a session. I don't get to see them for days until I am free again. That often leaves me with blue balls but that's the best part. The more in need I am, the harder I pound. 

And it's Sunday tomorrow. My temporary holiday from being a boss. I'm going to make the most of tonight and tomorrow in bed. 

Tbc...