Bratva Russian Mafia Novels & Stories

She nodded her head. "Ok let's do some work" she said while placing some file infront of me "I used my resources to find some information about the Russian and Brazilian " she said. "What information did you found?" I asked her. "So the Russians mob boss name is Ivan Volkov. He is an orphan and he only has a elder sister as a family. He was a part of Russian mafia but after working hard few years now he is the boss. There isn't much to know about him since he is a very introvert person " she told.

She swallowed. The room fell into silence. My stomach twisted. I swallowed hard. “The bratva run by Vladimir Netzov took her because she was beautiful, young, innocent, and a virgin.” Oh, God. “Wait. Vladimir Netzov also runs the Belarusian mafia, right?” “Yes. He attacked the compound in Belarus, killed the pakhan, and took over the ring there. Some ran away. They didn’t like how Vladimir ran and chose to join another bratva, and that’s a major crime. Betrayal.”

"Soviet mafia and bratva are like comparing great white sharks to dolphins. Most of the bosses in Soviet mafias lived through Stalin's gulags. They came out and essentially declared war against the entire world. Tattoos, separate language, customs, vehement hatred towards authority figures. More what would be considered a cult today, but you'll never hear someone describe it like that." "The crime families of today are gentle and happy go lucky guys in comparison. That's what you're saying," Turo recapped. "Exactly. Some of the bratva today are in the highest offices of government. From the Kremlin to the local police department. The Soviet mafia morphed and adapted as the USSR fell and beca

, She asked but I didn't say anything, she smiled as my silence gave her her answers. “I was right... Well, to a large number of people, Nikolai is a deals on diamonds, importation and exportation of the mineral, but that's all a cover up. Nikolai is the leader of the Mafia gang called Bratva...”, Irina was still explaining but I was too shocked to hear what she was saying. ‘Mafia? Diamond? Bratva? What is she saying?', I asked in my head. “Wait wait, I don't understa--”, I tried saying but Irina interrupted me.

"Everyone that enters the bratva must be checked in the database. We have your information, Miss Chase. From the time you were born to the very moment you were assigned to guard the CEO of Windstorm Conglomerate." That was an expected answer, but a worrying one. If they got so much detail about me, didn't that mean they possessed a hacking system? Or possibly they had a wide influence across the world? Bratva, she said. This meant the Russian mafia, and this very word explained it all. "What bratva am I in then?" I further asked, trying to squeeze some more information from this woman. "Lady Tara," Simon however called out from the doorway, effectively interrupting our conversation. "It is t

"Damian… what aren't you telling me?" He studied her for a beat. Then asked, "You ever heard of the Bratva?" Nova's brows pulled together. "Russian mafia?" He gave a slight nod. "Romania has its own. Older. Quieter. More fractured now. But still alive." She swallowed hard. "And your family…?" "My father was high-ranking. One of the few with real legacy ties." He took a slow sip, gaze unreadable. "I was raised in it. Groomed for it."

How the fuck they are still allowing him to take shit over is beyond me the Bratva is one of the most strictest mafia groups along side the worst of the worst of people to ever walk the face of the planet the KKK, they are known to fuck shit up and ask questions later and now they are acting as if all is forgiven and allowing him to take shit over. Alexi has either paid a heft fucking due of there’s something we are all missing and Sapphire has something to so with it in and unintentional way only someone who has no fucking clue about it would.

The Bratva operates under a council system," Massimo began. "Different vor v zakone—thieves-in-law—control different territories and operations. They rarely work together, but when they do, they're formidable." "And this summit would bring them together?" "Yes. Under the leadership of Dimitri Smirnov, the current head of the most powerful Russian family." Massimo's voice dripped with contempt when he said the name. Smirnov. Julia felt the blood drain from her face. It was a common enough Russian surname, she told herself. It didn't mean anything. It couldn't mean anything. "You know this Dimitri?" she managed to ask, her voice sounding strange even to her own ears. "I know of him. Ruthless.

She smiles back and mutters a word of gratitude before she continues. “Who is Bratva?” I suddenly ask, and I feel her hand freeze. Her head is down and her body is going pale. Did I say something wrong or something frightening? I reach out to touch her but she raises her head and forces the smile to spread over her face again. “Bratva is the mafia organization but most of us tend to address the leader that way. That is why the identity of the leader is quite unknown, only the Don, like señor, addresses him by his title,” she says, and my eyes dim.

“Russians don’t request meetings. They summon you like a dog. I wonder why Sokolov ‘seeks an audience with me?” The words hung heavy in the air. Olivia stiffened in her chair, the fork trembling between her slack fingers. She had read enough, stories, histories, whispered myths in books her mother never wanted her to touch, to know what the Russian Bratva meant. They were just like Nero’s organisation. They were mafia. Often more merciless than the Italian outfit. Elena had told her so. They were not business partners; they were storms that swallowed cities. Terrible storms waiting to break out. She swallowed, voice fragile but audible. “Is it… safe?”