Bratva Russian Mafia Novels & Stories

Nikolai said. By the end of his speech, I tautened, fidgeting in my seat. The Heizers always talked about them or badmouthed them to say the least. I heard things, sometimes that were too hard to miss. The Bratva was known to be merciless as their animosity and strong aversion to the Americans was. Especially my so called family, they hated them more than anything. "Little one, We are the heads of the Russian mafia." I didn't know what to say, no, actually I did but I just couldn't voice my thoughts out loud. I couldn't think of a way to react to this. Do I say that I had already suspected that?

"For what it's worth... I already know. About the business. About this house. That woman made sure of that." His expression shifted by a fraction. The barest lift of one brow. "I see." "You don't have to lie to me. I may not speak Bratva, but I'm not stupid." "No," he said after a pause. "You're not." Anton had confirmed it later—quiet, low-voiced over the tablet in his lap. Valentina had been leaking location data for weeks, feeding coordinates and rotation patterns to a man named Pavel Ivanov. A name Amelia hadn't heard before, but one that made the blood drain from the faces of every man in the room.

That’s a dumb question, Julianna, My subconscious muttered. “Nikolai’s of course,” she replied, “Who is he? Who are you people,” I asked, my voice steady as I spoke to her, she doesn’t make me nervous like Nikolai. “Nikolai Vasiliev is a Russian mafia don, I’m here just to take care of you,” she said, “I guess he already told you this… You have to work with me in the kitchen every day from now,” “Yeah, he told me,” I said,

"No, the clean-up crew is almost here. This isn't a matter for the police, those guys were from the Bratva." "The Bratva?" I frown. "Russian mafia. The question is, why the fuck would a member of the Bratva try to stall a business deal that has nothing to do with them." I can see the wheels turning in his head. "Are they gonna come after me again?" Oh God, how am I going to get rid of a whole Russian mafia? "I killed one of their guys, right?" The most dangerous one if what Alessandro said is true. There have to be repercussions for that.

After all, I was married to Nikolai Vetrov; the Bratva Don, the Devil. T. B. C!!

After all, Nightroe wouldn't dare to do anything as long as she was under the supervision of the man's father. Honestly, Svanna was not very proud of being the chosen daughter-in-law of someone who was once a mafia boss but felt a little lucky when Russol Sullivan was willing to defend her before the middle-aged man's eldest son. It wasn't that Nightroe wouldn't do anything. Just at least, they knew the ruthless man would be much more cautious about taking action.

“But, sir, it’ll take some time to find her size. I’ll…" “Let her wear Serena’s clothes; I’m sure they fit her.” "Sir?” my maid’s voice was soft, stunned, demanding. It had been a long time since she heard me say that name. “I won’t repeat my orders twice, Ella! Don’t let Irina get cold,” I said again. Ella bowed her head lower. “I obey, sir,” she said, and hurried after Irina. I am Miron Pavlov, the current leader of the Bratva that controls Brooklyn. My job isn’t as glamorous as the Armani suit I wear to the office; it’s more obscure. It’s just a facade, but my real business lies underground.

Julienne had always prided herself on her sense of justice. As a criminal detective, she believed she would be able to do anything for the truth. That is until the lies looked right into her eyes and smiled. When she came home after a breakup text from her boyfriend of a year, Hades Bianchi, only to meet him and her sister, Lorelai, newly engaged and supposedly expecting a child, Julienne's world tilted on its axis. She is determined to stop the wedding, even if she has to dabble into murky waters, like kissing him hours before the wedding. But things get even messier when Lorelai doesn't show up to the ceremony and she is found dead in front of the cathedral, in her wedding dr

"Clear the mess," I left with Vladimir. "Boss, a member of the Bratva family has an offer for you and he seeks to see you," Vlad's words made me halt, turning to him. "Bratva?" My eyebrows squinted, and he nodded. The Bratva family was the second most popular mafia family in America, originally in Russia for years before now. "What offer?" I inquired. "He didn't say exactly what the offer was, boss. But he said you will love it,"

I copy the text and head to my translation app where I converted the words to English. My eyes quickly roam across the screen as I read. The reports from the website reads that Dima Kozlov is the top oligarch in Russia who owns a factory that produces weapons and some other shady things. He runs the street of Russia and is the main ruler of the underworld. Holy Moly. I’m all but a nervous wreck at the information I just read. That means…he's a mafia if I am to qualify it with an English word. From the books I’ve read, the Russian Mafioso are referred to as Bratva.