Page 97 of Bratva's Mercy
He slapped me so hard across the arm that the SUVswerved. I righted the vehicle and gave him a glare for a millisecond before returning my gaze to the road. Nik and Darius always talked openly about sex even before they became partners, along with Jess. They were always competitive about their sexual exploits in bed, and most of it seemed to be a game with them.
Naturally, Nik was comfortable openly discussing his sex life because of that, but I never talked about mine. I doubted any of them even knew I had a preference before my obsession with Leo started.
Nik was impossible to ignore, so I answered his questions as briefly as possible. It was either that or toss him out of the SUV, and I needed him to have my back tonight. I didn’t need to be on Darius’s bad side either, and something told me Jess wouldn’t hesitate to beat me to death with the same red bottoms I’d bought her. She didn’t play about either of her men.
The farther we drove from the city center and the closer we got to our destination, the less Nik talked. Not because he’d lost the ability to run his mouth. He could talk for hours and never get tired of his own voice, but he knew as well as I did that tonight required our undivided attention. It was dangerous to think we were no longer being targeted because we had Arkady’s son. If anything, they might be lying in wait to get their hands on one of us to use as a bargaining chip.
A trade for a trade. The oldest trick in the book.
I kept my hands steady on the wheel, but my mind still drifted to Leo. Though initially upset when I’d nearly taken Arkady’s son’s life, he’d come around. He didn’t ice me out as I thought he would have done, although it was still frustrating how little of himself he gave me. The sex was better than I’d told Nik, but I wanted more from him.
I wanted to know what it was like for someone to love me back. And I wanted that someone to be Leo.
“You’re thinking about your doctor again. Aren’t you?” Nik’s voice broke my train of thought as I entered the boundary of Gusev’s territory.
“No.”
“Liar. You have that look.”
“What look?”
“The one where you stare off into space and concentrate really hard while frowning like you’re either about to kill somebody or write poetry about your doctor.”
Nik was so fucking ridiculous at times. “I don’t write poetry.”
“Shame. I bet it’d be tragic as fuck.”
I ignored him as I turned off the main road.
The entrance to Gusev’s territory wasn’t what most people would expect from a man rumored to oversee one of the most brutal underground fighting circuits this side of the state. There were no crumbling warehouses, no rusted gates, or tattooed guards standing around with rifles to keep people who didn’t belong out.
Instead, the road curved upward through manicured landscaping illuminated by soft golden lights hidden beneath plants and sculpted stonework. Trees swayed gently in the night breeze, and water cascaded down black volcanic rock into narrow streams that cut through the property.
A paradise on the outside. That was the only word for it.
The estate stretched across acres of land, and the massive white structure in the center of it all looked more like an elite luxury resort than the location of an illegal fighting empire. Glass walls reflected moonlight in silver shards, and music drifted faintly through the night air from somewhere deeper inside the compound.
Luxury vehicles lined the circular driveway. Bentleys. Ferraris. Rolls-Royces. Men in tailored suits stepped from them beside women draped in diamonds and silk, all laughingsoftly as though they were arriving for a gala instead of an evening dedicated to bloodshed.
“Jesus Christ.” Nik let out a low whistle beside me. “The fuck? Are you sure we’re at the right place?”
“Gusev always liked expensive things,” I muttered.
But even I hadn’t expected this.
When I’d fought in this very territory, it’d been hidden in basements thick with sweat and mold and empty parking lots with the ring being the body of people surrounding us. Men fought there because they were desperate. Because they needed money, or protection, or somewhere to put their rage.
This was different. Gusev had taken brutality and dressed it in gold, and the rich always lusted after anything shiny.
A security checkpoint blocked the road ahead before we reached the main building. The guards stationed there weren’t flashy about their weapons, but I noticed all of them immediately anyway. Shoulder holsters beneath fitted jackets, discreet earpieces, and eyes too alert to be ordinary hired security.
One of them approached my window. “Invitation code.”
I rolled the window halfway down and gave the phrase Gusev had texted earlier that evening. The codes changed for each event and were never revealed until the day of the event to preserve its integrity.
The guard’s expression didn’t change, but he stepped back immediately and pressed a finger to his earpiece. A moment later, the gates slid open.
“Welcome, Brigadier.”
