Bratva Meaning Novels & Stories

My heart still trembles every time I think about the fact that one little lurch to the left and I would have completely crushed her with the damned truck. But I did not have a choice. I had to get my woman out of that car. The Bratva have a rule. In the case of a situation where they are being attacked by an enemy and they have a captive from the enemy's side with them with no means of escape, the captive should be killed on the spot. Vanderhaus, seeing no chances of escape, was already readying his gun to get the deed done seconds before I crushed his head beneath the tires of my truck.

"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.

Only difference is one has throat tattoos and the other doesn’t. “Igor, Ivan. Let me introduce you both to Angel Moretti and Ryder Savage Jackson.” Cassandria says, and they look us over and smile slightly, giving us a slight head nod. “These two are known as my mountains. They helped train me when I came here. They are part of the Bratva. That is run by Dimitri Volkov.” I thought Ivar was the head of the bratva? I look at Alessa and she smirks.

Vera's Pov The colour drained from Dante's face as Sofia's words registered. "Bratva?" I asked, looking between them. "Who are they?” "Our rivals," Sofia said tersely, her hand already on her phone. "Russians. Ruthless. They've been trying to take over our territory for years.” Dante was already moving, crossing to his desk and pulling open a drawer. He extracted two guns, checking them before tucking them into his waistband.

They were welcomed so nicely by everyone, it seems that the minute they walked in, they stole all the attention. “Blyat,” Vladim muttered, when the girl finished greeting everyone and started searching around with her eyes. I had come to understand that Blyat is a Russian insult as I have heard Vladim use it in very specific occasions. He cleared his throat and spoke to me “Get up, follow my lead”

“The soldier who said that, the one I stopped from striking you, he’s been punished and dealt with.” I nodded, grateful that I wouldn’t have to worry about him. “The Antonov Bratva does not condone trafficking women. We participate in many avenues of business, but we do not kidnap women like the Cartel and other organizations for the purpose of selling them.” His words should’ve reassured me, but I still held on to this stubborn doubt. “What happened to the other women?” I had to know. “They’ve been secured at locations in our territory.” I arched a brow. “You didn’t release them?”

Saskia had taught them the word Bratva the day before; it was Russian for mafia. "Yes," Saskia said around a mouthful of the caramel popcorn Fatima had made for her. When Shaun's mom realized the way to Saskia's soul was through her stomach, the treats had become endless. "A son will learn about the organization from his father in preparation to one day take over, and a daughter will be expected to marry into another powerful family." "Over my dead body," Shaun had snapped, while Fatima exclaimed, "That's terrible!" Saskia shrugged. "It is what it is."

I unconsciously looked at the mansion once more. "It's been a bit rude for me to not introduce myself to you by name. My name is Lucas Alexander and I am the butler of this place, and what's your name?" "My name is Emma Iowa, and my daughter's name is Vivian Helen." “Vivian Helen, Emma Lowa? The names are beautiful. But it feels familiar, I seem to have heard it somewhere.” We looked at each other, then got a little confused. “The names of me and my daughter are just common. So it's not unusual for him to feel familiar."

“What lover? Is she really a loose character girl, Vlad? You must have known about her character last night.” Vladimir clenched his fingers tightly into a fist and left to see his wife leaving his confusing father and angry brother behind. “Valentina!” Mia sneered at her cousin. “Stop asking stupid questions!” “What's stupid about this?” She asked. “We all know what kind of man Bratva Pakhan is? People call him the Sinner. And Rose, she is a plain Jane unlike me. But given his ugly Scarred features he could get only her.” Valentina let out a giggle as if she made the joke.

A picture of a tattoo on the left forearm of one of the deceased mercenaries, a design particular enough to be institutional. I passed it on to every contact who might know it. Victoria came back first. Three words. Volkova Bratva. Russians. I stared at those words for a minute. Then I lowered my gaze to the waterfront that lay ahead of me and felt everything in its shape shift, a new tone submerged beneath the surface in a way that made it — harder, in one general sense, but at the same time clearer — easier.