Jaded Jewels (Born Bratva Book 7) Read online

  Kindle Edition

  ©Jaded Jewels

  ©Born Bratva Series

  ©Born Bratva Legacy Series

  Copyright © 2013 Suzanne Steele

  Published by Suzanne Steele

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of Fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales, are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All other characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. The author acknowledges the trademark status of various products and locales referenced in this fictional work, which have been used without permission. The use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. All rights reserved. No part of this book can be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Cover photo © Shutterstock

  Cover Copyright © Suzanne Steele

  Edited by Eda Price Editing

  Cover Design by Book Cover by Design

  Formatting by Suzanne Steele

  Thank you for downloading this e-book.

  Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

  All content herein is protected under copyright law.

  This e-book is Rated 17+

  To the Reader

  The men I write about are Alpha males in every sense of the word. They are the men society warns us about. They are dominant males with controlling tendencies. They are the men you know you should stay away from, and yet are drawn to like a moth to a flame.

  If you are looking for a sweet romance, you won't find it here. What you will find is dark passion. My heroes often carry what would be considered an obsession for the women they love. Each character I create has demanded their voice be heard. I have been true to that calling and I have stayed true to their personalities, with which the reader may not always agree. They are dark, they are gritty, and often their love is dysfunctional but, nonetheless, it is real.

  Stalk Me…

  Suzanne Steele’s Blog: http://suzannesteelesblog.wordpress.com/

  Suzanne Steele’s Twitter:

  https://twitter.com/Suzanne_Steele_

  Suzanne Steele’s Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/suzannesteele

  Suzanne Steele’s Facebook

  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Suzanne-Steele/160387180790420?ref=hl

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost, I want to thank God; without him none of this would be possible.

  I want to thank my family, who carry the weight of everything so I can write. I love you guys and I couldn’t do what I do without you.

  I want to thank Eda Spivey Price, my editor, who came at a time when I needed her most. Eda, you are a Godsend and I will forever be grateful to you for believing in me at a time when I wanted to give up. You were just what I needed to keep writing and pursuing my dream.

  I want to thank my readers. You keep me writing when the literary world gets crazy. You guys are amazing and I love you.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty One

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  Chapter Thirty Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty One

  Chapter Forty Two

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  A shadow fell over Kathleen Glazov’s exquisite profile as she lay sleeping. Blissfully unaware that she was being watched, she sighed and shifted slightly, just enough to free the sheet from beneath her arm and expose a rosy nipple to the silvery moonlight.

  The male silhouette at the window straightened and took a step toward the bed, bristling slightly as the ever-present, familiar sexual heat practically crackled in the night air. He reminded himself that this woman was his for the taking, had always been his, even before their paths had crossed decades earlier. His claim to her defied the meaningless constraints of time and would continue long after the sun had set on this life. She belonged to him, would always belong to him. And he to her.

  These were the thoughts that occupied Alexander Glazov’s mind as he watched his beloved Ptichka sleep. He liked watching her sleep. It filled him with a serenity and peace that only she could evoke within him. She was his tangible peace in an otherwise tumultuous world of lawlessness. The mere thought of his Kathleen coming to any harm was enough to send him into a tailspin of fury.

  It was enough to wake him from a deep sleep, as it had tonight.

  She was his rock, his stability; hell, she was his sanity. To be without her would be to surrender himself to the beast that still roared within him. As it was, it was all he could do to not give his life over to the demons that plagued him – until he looked upon her there in his bed, where she belonged.

  Maverick Vetrov had almost succeeded in taking her away from him. He had become obsessed, even delusional, as he fought Glazov for power that he felt was his birthright. But his delusions had been, of course, proven false and the Glazovs had done what they always did: they closed ranks against the enemy, hunted him down, and killed him.

  Maverick’s elimination didn’t change the fact that, this time, the enemy had gotten entirely too close. Any belief Glazov ever entertained that his dark demons had been laid to rest were cast aside like an old, ill-fitting coat. His possessive instincts were seething just beneath the surface these days. Hell, even now his fingers were flexing as he resisted the compulsion to touch her skin, to stroke her hair, to move his body over hers.

  Glazov would never allow himself to believe there could be peace. To do so would mean letting his guard down and embrace complacency, and that was never going to happen—especially not after this last episode. It only took one mistake to wipe out years of work. It was the sole reason he demanded perfection when it came to matters of business.

  Glazov was hard on his people, but he was twice as hard on himself. As Pakhan, he shouldered the responsibilities of life and death and he took those responsibilities seriously. Ghosts from the past were always lurking around unseen corners, waiting for the opportunity to destroy him—Maverick Vetrov had proven that to be true.

  His cock stirred when his wife moved beneath the covers, kicking the covers off one of her legs. She still excited him as much if not more after many years of marriage. He wanted
his children to find the same deep, lifelong connection with their own spouses.

  Yes…all was good in Glazov’s world, for now. It was time to shore up the final details of his fledgling diamond import venture. He hadn’t told anyone yet, but he had decided to bring his sister Vladimira over from Russia. Glazov knew there was strength in numbers and Vladimira was one of the most ruthless killers he knew. She would be an asset to them. Now…he just had to convince her.

  Of course, Glazov had a plan. It seemed Vladimira had a secret: Yafon. Although they had thought they had kept their wedding weekend rendezvous under wraps, it hadn’t gotten past Glazov’s all-seeing eyes. He had noticed their stolen glances over the years, but knew they hadn’t acted on their chemistry until her most recent visit for the Glazov weddings. He had been surprised at first, but upon further reflection had decided it was a union that made sense.

  Yes, she would see things his way—he’d sweeten the pot until she did. He knew she might play hard to get just because she could – something Yafon had, no doubt, discovered by now. But she shared her brother’s unflinching belief that family came first—always. She would come to America. He liked the idea of her being close. But he wondered if America was ready for her.

  Sometime later, Glazov moved away from the window. He prowled over to the bed, smiling softly at how the sheet had shifted even lower to expose the curve of his wife’s delectable ass. Her porcelain skin shimmered in the moonlight, practically begging for the crimson imprint of his hand. He rested a knee on the edge of the bed, his fingers flexing in anticipation. Time to think about something other than business…

  Chapter One

  The following evening, Glazov was staring pensively down at the fire pit on the patio directly below his office window, his arms crossed over his chest. His cousin Novak sat in his usual chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed, as he rolled his ever-present Russian coin between his fingertips.

  Novak studied Glazov, determined to get a read on what had him so preoccupied. Normally, Novak would pester the shit out of him until he revealed his thoughts, but this time he thought it best to wait. The Pakhan would speak when he was ready.

  They’d been through a lot together. The way Glazov had waded through the sins of his father couldn’t have been easy. Nearly losing his wife to a stalker who pursued her like an animal was a hard thing for a man like Glazov to stomach. But he had done what he always did—taken out the enemy and burned the evidence. There would be no skeletons rattling around to reveal dark deeds to curious eyes.

  Glazov finally spoke. “He’s not cut out for this. Bazarnik is cut from a different cloth.”

  “Are you saying we can’t use him now that we’re going straight?”

  “We’ll never go straight, not really. We’re born Bratva.”

  “And we’ll die Bratva, cuz.”

  “Hopefully no time soon. No, we can use him, but it won’t be a role in the diamond business. That boy needs to be in the trenches. Look at him down there, he’s miserable.”

  “Since when do you give a fuck about your employees being happy?” Novak scoffed.

  Glazov turned, cutting his narrowed eyes at his cousin. Novak was used to his cousin’s fierce personality. He had a healthy respect for Glazov, but he didn’t fear him. They were both lethal, each in their own way.

  “It isn’t about happiness. ‘Happy’ is a relative term. It’s about effectiveness. That is why I put employees in positions where they can be most effective.”

  Novak’s laughter rang through the air. Glazov, however, didn’t appear to be amused. Novak cleared his throat and scoffed, “Bazarnik…that motherfucker only fits in when he’s blowing shit up or hanging people by their skin on meat hooks.”

  A wicked smile crossed the Glazov’s face. “Precisely.”

  “Then who’s going to look after all of your lovely Russian diamonds?”

  “My lovely Russian sister, of course.”

  Chapter Two

  Vladimira Glazov stood in front of the picture window in her study, sipping her afternoon tea and admiring, as she often did, the panoramic view of the lush, green lawn that surrounded the Glazov estate. But her thoughts were far, far away from this, her ancestral home in Mother Russia. Her mind was captivated by forbidden thoughts of a man. Forbidden, because Vladimira Glazov had devoted her life to Bratva and could ill afford such distractions.

  She loved her life in Russia. In time, she had begun to enjoy overseeing relations with the key players in the mining operation for Glazov’s fledgling diamond business. Frankly, the bloodless lifestyle had taken some getting used to and stood in stark contrast to her usual, brutal brand of Bratva diplomacy.

  Her poison ring glinted in the sunlight, seeming to mock the ease with which she had embraced her newfound civility. A delicate frown line formed between her brows as she considered this turn of events.

  In the months since seeing Yafon again in Louisville, well, she had been more than a little distracted. They had long enjoyed a harmless flirtation and had nearly taken things farther a time or two, but she had fought their attraction and accepted the resulting heartache as being for the greater good.

  She had long ago learned to ignore any yearning for a deeper connection. Such a relationship simply was not an option, not if she were to continue to serve in a position of Bratva leadership. She refused to be perceived as weak. Her brother had found happiness with his Ptichka without sacrificing his credibility, but it was altogether different for a man. As a woman in an unprecedented position of power, she had to be impervious to distractions.

  Ah, but that magnificent man…

  During her most recent visit to America for the Wedding to End All Weddings, things with Yafon had taken an unexpected and deliciously sexual turn. She had known something was different from the moment their eyes met as she stepped off the private jet. Usually the epitome of decorum, Yafon had made no effort to conceal his heated gaze as he tracked her every step as she approached the car. When she had attempted her usual, lighthearted, flirtatious greeting, his nostrils had flared and she could have sworn he growled at her.

  And that pretty much set the tone for her stay in America, with Yafon’s predatory glare following her wherever she went. That is, until the night before the wedding. After a sumptuous dinner and countless toasts to the three happy couples, she retired to her suite of rooms only to find a barely restrained, incredibly aroused Yafon waiting for her. In the ensuing hours, he made it clear that their days of mere flirtation were over. Alternating between raw, brutal domination and breathtakingly tender lovemaking, Yafon had left her sated and exhausted. The festivities the next day had been torturous, with much remaining unsaid between them. When gunfire had erupted during the reception, Glazov had insisted that she return to Russia immediately, as originally planned, to look out for their business interests there. Boarding the plane had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done.

  With a heavy sigh, she crossed her arms over her chest. She missed Yafon, and she had no idea what to do about it.

  She wasn’t sure how her brother would feel about the two of them. He’d either be furious or pleased—no in between for that one. It was all or nothing, black or white…life or death. It always came down to that: who would live and who would die.

  Russia was cold in the winter, brutally so. And, as much as she hated to admit it, she was getting older. She was hardly decrepit by any stretch of the imagination, and Yafon had more than proved that she was still in her sexual prime. She practically purred at the memory of how his demanding touch had left trails of fire along her skin. She brushed her finger through the silver streak of hair in her otherwise ebony tresses and thought about how aging and cold weather didn’t mix for anyone.

  “Madam Glazov, please excuse the interruption, but your brother is on the phone.”

  “Thank you, Anfisa, I’ll take it over here.” Vladimira crossed the room and stepped down into the sunken corner alcove where she
often took her morning coffee. She lowered herself onto the loveseat, settling in for what would surely be an interesting conversation; conversations with her brother always were.

  “Glazov,” she purred like the confident woman of means and power that she was, conveying a lifetime of adoration and deep love in that single word.

  “I have a proposition for you.”

  She smiled at his curt tone. No pleasantries for the Pakhan, he was all business, which was fine with her. “Mmm, sounds interesting. Tell me more.”

  She wondered what was on his mind and what it would mean for her. All her life she’d been a femme fatale and she was rather good at it. She loved manipulating a victim, luring them into her web of deceit like the black widow she was. She toyed with them, of course, until she grew bored. Then it was a simple matter of emptying her ring of its poison into the drink or food she’d graciously provided only moments earlier.

  “I’ve been thinking about the official launch of the jewelry line. It needs a certain something.”

  “You’ll have to be more specific, you know,” she said with a coy smile that he didn’t need to see to know it was there.

  “I’ve decided you will be the face of the jewelry business. As much as it pains me to admit it, dear sister, you’re classy.”

  “So good of you to notice.”

  He continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “Ostensibly, you’ll be running the retail side, but your true role will be behind the scenes, handling our relationship with our Russian diamond sources. You already know the key players so it’s a natural fit. And you’re an unknown in Louisville for the most part, so you’ll no doubt draw curious shoppers into the store.”

  “So, they’ll tell two friends, then they’ll tell two friends…”

  He chuckled because he knew he had her. “Something like that, yes.”

  “What about Bazarnik?” she asked.

  “I have other plans for him…plans for which he will be far better suited. There is a power vacuum in the Sinaloan cartel now; Bazarnik is going to help me fill it in a way that benefits all of us. But as for you -- of course, this will mean moving back to the States. You will hand off your current responsibilities and come here in a week. That should give you time to tie up any loose ends that require your attention.”