The Bratva Biker Girl

I lean back in my expensive, custom-made leather chair, steepling my fingers, narrowing my eyes at the man facing me. Pavel Khushanov is the Bratva Pakhan, and my MC has worked with them for decades. My father with his father, and my Grandfather with his Grandfather, the last two started things as immigrants fresh off the boats from Ireland and Russia. I, however, do not trust the man sitting opposite me.'You want us to transport the goods to Mexico?'I ask now, and the older man nods, his accent thick when he replies.'Da, Killian. They must get their before they close this border. You understand, I am sure.'The current President has been giving orders to close checkpoints randomly, and we never know if the one we choose will be open. It's a massive risk, but he knows that, so he will pay handsomely for the privilege of having my men transport his goods for him. 'You know it'll cost you, don't you?'I tell him, and it's his turn to narrow his eyes and then nod his head.'I know

The nightclub was bouncing.Solaris was the newest, hippest place to be.Anybody who was anybody was here for tonight's opening.'So, where else would I, Tavisha Khushanov, spoiled, pampered daughter of the billionaire Bratva Pakhan, a true Bratva Principessa, be?'My best friend, Svetlana, joked as she ordered another jug of our favourite cocktail and we headed for our table in the VIP area. Nadia and Annika, our other friends, were already sitting there, surrounded by a gaggle of filthy rich CEO's [Daddies ' companies, of course.]My three best friends were all daughters of high-ranking Bratva Officials: Nadia and Annika, aged twenty, and Svetlana, aged twenty-one; they were stunners. Tall, leggy brunettes with hazel eyes, they were always surrounded by guys eager to try their luck, and then there was me, the odd one out. I was a petite, [Only five feet four] ice blonde with emerald green eyes and the daughter of Pavel Lhushanov, the Houston Bratva Pakhan. We were only a small Bratv

'Ok, what do we know?'I ask my men as they sit around our meeting table.Rory opens his laptop and shows the Bratva Principessa walking into the Houston Animal Centre wearing tight jeans and a backpack. She looks very young, with her stunning blonde hair tied up in a high ponytail and no make-up.'She's doing her Intern Credit here at the Centre. Been attending for a week, and she'll be there for another three. If you want to take her, this is going to make it easy; she has two guards, and they are keeping it very low-key.'I smile broadly.'Stake it out. Get me the intel. I want to know everything about that Centre. Find us a way in, find us a way out the back, and I want that information so we can move in two days.'My men nod and leave the room, and I go check on the alterations being done to the room I have selected to house the guest who is going to resent being kept here. I don't envisage any problems. She is a petite, delicate little princess, and I reckon it won't be hard to

I find myself glued to the CCTV monitors in her room.She had been sleeping for hours, and I was beginning to worry that my men had given her too much of the sedation when she finally began to move. I can't help myself as I watch her come around and stagger to the bathroom, and I'm glad I can't hear her as I know she is being sick. The sedation we used has nausea as a side effect, and I can only wait until she returns to bed, but does not get into it. She stands for a few minutes, gazing around the room, assessing her situation, until she notices the balcony door. I am stunned by what she does next and even laugh out loud when she ends up on her ass as the chain around her waist pulls her up short. Even the look on her face was funny, and the men in my security room chuckled just as loudly. The laughter dies on our lips as we watch her fight the chain until her hands are bleeding and her waist is bruised so badly that it is also bleeding. It is only when she collapses onto her knees

I watched her eat, tentatively at first, a strawberry, a few blueberries, then she picked up her glass and drank some fresh orange juice. She glanced at me but quickly lowered her eyes again when she saw me watching her, and I have to admit I was intrigued by the petite beauty in front of me. 'I can't eat with you watching me like this.'She snapped, pushing to her feet and would have run away, but I grabbed her wrist and tugged at her, pulling her onto my lap.'Guess I'll have to feed you myself.''What the fuck was I doing?'I thought, as the woman wriggled self-consciously on my knee, that I could not prevent my cock from getting hard as I clamped my arm around her slender waist to keep her still.'Open.'I commanded lifting a piece of my Chef's excellent cinnamon toast to her lips. I thought she was going to refuse, but then I felt her let go and relax against me. Her perfect cupid bows lips part, and she delicately took the toast off the fork I was holding. Quietly, she chewed a