Page 6 of Bratva Bastard

Ah hell, who was I to judge? Honestly, I couldn’t care less about her name, and I wouldn’t be seeing her again after tonight. See, me and her, we were one and the same. Always searching for the next thrill, the next girl—or in her case, guy—to fuck, to numb the emptiness that I’d bet neither one of us would ever admit to having. Because that’s all this was, a numbing experience. Something to feel good for a while until we moved on to the next cycle of bullshit life would inevitably throw our way. Like a drug, it was a way to forget.

Untucking my shirt, she slid her hands underneath, running her fingers along my chest and down my abdomen, before sliding into my pants and grabbing onto my cock, beating me off in the stall.

But when she tried to whip it out, I stopped her. I nipped at her earlobe and whispered, “We’re gonna fuck in my hotel room, where you can scream my name when you come for me.”

She pulled away and stared me dead in the face, a smirk plastered on her lips. “Somebody’s confident,” she laughed.

“Listen, baby. The way I fuck, you won’t be able to hold back. So, we’re going to my room. Meet me at the front in ten.” I needed to wait for my dick to go down before I stepped out of this bathroom. Plus, I wasn’t leaving my best friend’s wedding without saying bye first. Not for some easy fuck.

We headed back to my room upstairs. Fortunately, Zoran was smart enough to have the reception at a gorgeous hotel, which made it easy for the drunk guests to head upstairs and sleep it off. Or in my case, fuck it off.

The instant I closed the door behind me, her shirt flew off, and she pushed me against the bed, climbing on top. She yanked my shirt open and headed for my belt buckle, but my phone went off in my pocket.

“Motherfucker,” I snapped, pulling the woman off my lap to check my phone. Misha’s face on the screen left me scowling because I knew I couldn’t ignore this call. Whatever it was about, it had to be important.

I answered the video call to see Misha and Dimitry in one block, and Ivan on another.

“Hey, guys. Whatever this call is about, can’t it wait?” I flashed the screen to the half-naked blonde on my bed, primping her hair to look good for the camera. She didn’t care that my brothers were seeing her with her tits exposed. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes in response.

Andthatwas why I didn’t believe in marriage.

“I’m afraid not, brother,” Misha answered, averting his eyes from the woman before I brought the phone back to myself. “We have business that needs addressed. Say goodbye to your friend. I’m sure she can find someone else to play with tonight.”

“Lame,” I groaned, glancing back at the woman who was now pouting on the bed.

“We need to discuss the Sorokin deal, and we need you present. You can fuck her later.”

It wasn’t a request.

Annoyed, I hung up the phone and rubbed my face. “Well, you heard the man,” I said, facing her as I buttoned up my dress shirt. “Maybe next wedding, huh?”

She wasn’t pleased, but oh well. Business is business.

3

Crissy

“Ican’t believe you’re postponing your honeymoon just for us,” Fernanda gushed as I nodded my head excitedly.

After the wedding, I’d headed back to Gabby’s place for the night. Mostly it was to save on hotel costs, but she and Zoran had rented a suite in the hotel where they had the reception. It was a lovely hotel—far better than the one I worked at—so I could only imagine what the suite would look like. But Zoran could afford it. After all, he was a Bratva man. However, only Fernanda and I knew that. Gabby didn’t want her parents knowing, and I could totally understand why.

But Zoran was great—a generous, caring man who always put Gabby first—so even if she did tell her parents, I doubt they’d care. But someone of her class was expected to be married to a man who checked two boxes: wealthy, and high social status. Zoran definitely checked off the wealthy box, but social status? It wasn’t what the Rochas could call suitable.

“Yeah, you didn’t have to stay for us,” I said, bringing my attention back to the conversation.

“Are you kidding? You guys are my best friends! Besides, Zoran understands, and totally supports it. He said it would be easier to tie up a few loose business ends before we leave.”

“So, how does it feel being a married woman?” I asked, Fernanda adding, “Yeah, and to a Bratva man?”

Gabby’s eyes lit up. I’d never seen her so vibrant and happy. “It’s great. Perfect. Everything I imagined it would be. But in a way, I’m so glad the wedding is over. Every girl dreams of the perfect wedding, but getting there is super stressful. I mean, all the planning, and the dieting. Plus, have you met our wedding planner?”

Fernanda and I exchanged an annoyed glance and answered in sync, our tones dry, “Yes.”

Gabby chuckled and shrugged. “The woman was like a drill sergeant, but worth it. Aside from running out of vodka, the wedding was flawless. I couldn’t have asked for more. And Zoran was a total gentleman every step of the way. He showed up on time to every rehearsal and fitting, every meeting with Helga—the wedding coordinator—and never complained once. Well, that’s not entirely true. He did get mad once when Helga told him a chocolate wedding cake was tacky.”

Fernanda playfully scoffed, “I don’t blame him. Who thinks chocolate is tacky! It’s clearly the superior flavor.”

We all giggled and sipped on our morning mimosas.

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