Solntsevskaya Bratva Novels & Stories

It's from Kimberly, her big sis. I've been in Russia for three years now—i joined The Bratva to get stronger. If you see this when you get out, then you might wanna come join me. We have to punish the bastard who framed you for our parents murder. The clan stopped taking females though, so you'll have to live as a boy if you're coming. I bought you a new identity as Micheal Alonso, get the details from the cyber man in the third street. He'll get you the invite and the QR code, too. See you soon, Adeshka. A smile painted Adeline's lips—a sad smile, but at least... there's hope.

Dozens of them, maybe hundreds, all dressed in black tactical gear and carrying assault rifles that gleamed dully in the emergency lighting. My blood ran cold as I recognized the insignia on their clothing – a silver wolf's head surrounded by Cyrillic lettering that I'd seen before in intelligence reports Dante had shown me. The Volkov bratva. The Russian crime family that had been Dante's rivals for years, competing for territory and influence across multiple states, pushing the boundaries of the uneasy truce that had existed between them. They'd finally made their move, finally decided that killing Dante was worth breaking the fragile peace that had kept open warfare at bay.

The headlights sweep across the lawn. "The person responsible for your father's death... His name is Sergei Sidorov. Former Bratva. Maybe current— hard to tell with these guys. That's all I can give you, kiddo. But you need to be very careful. This isn't some street thug we're talking about, alright? Tamara? Are you still there?" He keeps talking, but I'm not listening anymore. Can't listen. The phone slips from my fingers, hitting the carpet with a muffled thud.

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.

She asked again. “To Russia. To the Bratva.” I smiled sadly; letting the information sink in further into her. The Bratva has always been in the game for as long as I could remember; and the fuckers have always been up there on the top of the list of the most inhuman, cruel fuckers in the whole underworld. Few came and passed by, but the Bratva upheld their way of doing things. They called it a tradition; a reputation to live up to.

Jozef didn't care if he went to war with the entire Bratva organization, he would protect his wife with the last breath in his body. Fortunately, for their sake, it seemed the Bratva didn't want him dead. There were eleven men in the room. Jozef recognized all of them. The eldest member, a ninety-eight-year-old mobster by the name of Ivan Siberia, was the top voice of the Bratva. They called him Siberia because no one knew his actual name. Not even Ivan knew. He'd gone into a Siberian gulag as a teenager in the 1930s. He'd been among the first Bratva to rule the prisons. He'd had a reputation for blood-thirsty brutality that had only grown over the years. There were rumours that held he'd ha

"Checking. Hold on." Waiting for more information, I fought not to scratch at my scalp. "What part of Sweden did they go to? Does anyone know specifically?" "I'll ask Momma," Turo said. His voice sounded far away as I heard him say, "Momma, I need information." "We've got a few bratva that had started taking notice and an interest in setting up shop near Leningrad," Nik said. "So today's Saint Petersburg. Good. Who were they?" "We've got origin factors of Gavrila, Saveliy, Timurovich, Vasilievich. A few others. Those are the ones that managed to hold onto their territories."

“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?”

His family was left terrified and refused to speak to anyone, including the police. Elena called another commission meeting to deal with the growing threat. This time, every boss took it seriously. The problem had spread across multiple territories. It could no longer be ignored. The Santoro boss said his people had captured one of the men involved. After pressure, the man admitted the truth. He worked for a group called the Kozlov Bratva. It was a Russian crime organization based in Brighton Beach.

’ The man quickly tapped his keyboard and handed Luca Alessandro’s address, ‘’Your show is finished Lissa will not be returning’ He turned on his heel and to all the Bratva men left sitting in the SUV he snapped out orders ‘Arm up, I want every available man to meet me here’ He turned to Dmitri who was driving, ‘I am going to fucking wipe those Italian scumbags from this city once and for all, no prisoners to be taken’ That meant whoever they found at Alessandro’s property would be shot dead taking the Pakhan's wife was an act of treason as far as the Bratva were concerned and there was only one punishment, death.’ Lissa woke up on a strange bed and groaned she could not believe this had hap