Bratva Books Novels & Stories

"How can I control the Bratva when I can't control my own life? I'm told I should accept the Bratva, but they haven't accepted me. They stare at me as if I'm the enemy because of my mother. She loved my father, and that's the only mistake she made." Zhanna gazes thoughtfully at the photo before responding. "It won't be an easy path, and your journey will differ from any other woman's. But you must be willing to fight for your place in our world, just as your mother did." "But my mother died." "All of us will die," Zhanna replies. "But while alive, you must learn to use your intelligence and your charm to your advantage. You must be fearless, like your mother." "I met Paige Barinov," I tell h

Bri hadn’t delved into what we were just censored the information she was willing to offer Mabel in order to protect the rest. Bri was laid out across a blanket on the dock skin rubbed down with citronella to ward off the mosquitos as she read a new book. I had brought her a new pile back from the library. She was clad in only a sports bra and shorts, her bare feet crossed and bent over her beautiful ass. I crawled up next to her peering down at the book she was already halfway through. “What is it about?” “A girl tricked by fairies, to be their savior,” she said. I chuckled.

Instead, the heir set out on making Nikolai’s Bratva completely his. He began from square one: the structure. It was common knowledge that the Bratva didn’t have a system like the Cosa Nostra did, so he took the help of his Italian upbringing and changed that. There was the Pakhan, him, and his second-in-command, or Brigadier who would be an intermediary for him and would be in charge of the captains who would be presiding over small groups of men known as the Bratok, who would then recruit freelancer of sort.

Feeling amazed that the Alpha will read something like this, especially knowing that most wolves hate vampires for its history. As Brianna began to slowly crouch and check more, finding other books that are similar to Twilight, like vampire club, vampire moon, and other things, suddenly Brianna felt a sudden wind behind her. ‘A wind?’ she muttered, automatically turning around to find no source as the room had no window. There’s just an old bookcase with a creepy vibe behind her.

His Bratva—the Krasnaya Bratva—had no leader, and no one was going to point them in the direction of power. No one until me. I would marry Sveta and assume my rightful place on top of both the Krasnaya and Belaya Bratvas, so that I could assume the power I craved The power that I deserved. A smirk crossed my face as I sat back in my chair, waiting for Anatoly to return. He had been the one to grab Sveta from LA, following her into an apartment that she’d been stashed in and bringing her to my home in the city.

High bookshelves stretched toward the ceiling like monoliths in a moonless night. Where was he? Then, a shadow moved, quick and low to the ground. I lunged toward it, but before I could even take a step, an earsplitting crash rang out. Books and whole damn shelves toppled over like dominos. I sidestepped just in time, and there he was. Viktor. Our eyes locked, hate burning in them. Simultaneously, we both drew guns and pulled the triggers. Click. Click. Empty chambers. "Suka," Viktor spat, echoing the curses in my own mind. Viktor sneered, his face contorted with malice. "You think you're fit to lead the Bratva? You're just as weak as your father."

The word has an even more background intimate for us Because we are willing to create something that our parents denied us. I feel like will close a lot of wounds inside us, that I didn't know were bleeding. I see how his eyes get a little red more than before I completely free myself taking a step back, his gaze travels momentarily behind me where I know the wolf brothers are waiting for me. You will be fine with them, won't you? Yes, I am. Explanation of the terms I used in this chapter and previous ones, in case someone has a question. BRATVA: In Russian it means brotherhood, the word is used to refer to the Russian mafia, or red mafia, as it is world famous.

I slept just fine. Having a hard time resisting the pull to see if Natalia’s lips were as soft as they looked, I stood and walked to the kitchen to make some coffee. She was going to have one hell of a headache when she woke up, but that was better than her thrashing and trying to claw my eyes out when I kidnapped her. Even the aroma of the coffee brewing couldn’t keep my mind off her flowery scent. I wondered if her being here for a week would change it. That would be how long before the vote on who would be the next godfather in the Solntsevskaya Bratva.

— like she hasn’t slept either. Like she spent the weekend carrying something she can’t figure out how to put down. I know that feeling. I’ve been carrying things alone since I was fifteen, and it never gets lighter. It just gets more familiar. I notice Jace before I take another step. He’s leaning against a locker three doors down, arms crossed, jaw tight, watching her. His right arm sits slightly wrong — the way it has since Cain took him apart in the car park. Not broken all the way. Just damaged enough that he holds it careful, like he knows better than to forget. He doesn’t look at me. I look at him for one long second. Then I walk toward Zara. “Zara.” She freezes. Doesn’t turn around.

"Probably." "Cockroaches get bolder if they think they can barge into my territory at will." Bratva? Did they mean the Russian mafia? Like, another powerful secret club that was a complete mystery to the public? The only thing known about them was that the Bratva existed, and their presence was known through acts of total anarchy. Like the Cosa Nostra, but they were brutal. As the public began to forget about them, arson, property destruction, and other crimes made headlines.