Obsessed King: Ruthless Bratva Brotherhood Read online

  Obsessed King

  Ruthless Bratva Brotherhood

  Kaye Blue

  Obsessed King

  Copyright © 2020 Kaye Blue

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, and incidents are invented by the author or used fictitiously. Any similarities to real people, living or dead, businesses and business establishments, places, or events are entirely coincidental. This book is intended for mature audiences only. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Kaye’s Newsletter

  A Simple Plea…

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  Read the Dark and Dangerous Series!

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  A Simple Plea…

  Her plea was simple: help me.

  But in my world, nothing is free, and I know exactly what I want.

  Her body is currency, a trade of flesh for favor and nothing more.

  At least that’s what I tell myself.

  Every kiss, every touch pulls me deeper under her spell.

  I won’t rest until she’s mine.

  One

  Erin

  “Um…excuse me. I need to speak to the boss.”

  The five men seated around the table didn’t acknowledge me and continued to eat, drink, laugh, like I wasn’t even there.

  A dismissal, but not an effective one.

  “I need to speak to the boss,” I repeated, hoping I sounded forceful, like someone who wouldn’t be turned away, and not the squeaky little mouse I usually was.

  Still no luck.

  The men continued their meal, paying me absolutely no attention. They talked, the language one I didn’t immediately recognize, though if pushed, I’d say it was Russian. Some even smoked, something that was supposed to be illegal inside, though I doubted anyone had the balls to try to stop them.

  I wouldn’t have, but then again, I shouldn’t have been anywhere near this place.

  Yet here I was, and I wouldn’t leave until I’d gotten what I’d come for.

  I glanced away for a moment, saw the other patrons sitting at tables, the staff scurrying around, the entire restaurant continuing like I wasn’t standing there being summarily ignored.

  Maybe these people, those men, couldn’t see my desperation, but all that meant was I needed to do a better job of getting their attention.

  I took a deep breath, not caring how nervous or weak doing so made me look. I needed to center myself, and once that was done, I turned my focus back to the table.

  I looked at the men one by one, searching.

  I didn’t know what for, but when my eyes landed on him, I knew had found it.

  He was seated to the far right, one man on either side of him.

  Dirty blond hair that somehow seemed luminescent even under the restaurant’s dim lighting. Impossibly tall, something I could see even though he was sitting.

  His broad shoulders were massive, the shirt that covered them expensive and yet doing nothing to hide the bulk of his barrel chest or the large muscles in his arms.

  I looked down at his hands, which were also huge, intimidatingly so, but looked well-manicured.

  Not feminine, not by any understanding of the word, but clean and well cared for in a way that told me he never overlooked a single detail.

  I looked up again, eyes coming to rest at the shock of blond hair on his head, one that was surprisingly messy given how meticulous the rest of him was.

  I looked lower and met molten amber eyes, eyes that screamed predator and reminded me I could very easily become prey.

  Eyes that left me no doubt he was the boss.

  The rest of the room seemed to fall away, but I barely noticed, all of my attention focused on him.

  I stared at him and he stared back, the shift so sudden it almost knocked me off balance.

  One moment he had been completely inattentive, and the next his eyes were examining me, looking as though he were trying to peer into my soul.

  I realized then I had been mistaken.

  He hadn’t been ignoring me before.

  Nothing, no one, not even someone as insignificant as me escaped his notice.

  I stared him moment longer, then looked away.

  I cringed internally at my cowardice but was glad I’d done it all the same.

  His stare was too intense and my reaction to it too confusing.

  No one had ever looked at me like that before, like they were seeing every part of me, and the way my heart thudded, the tingle in the pit of my stomach, all of it was too much.

  In that moment, with my lashes lowered so that I was no longer directly staring at his eyes, I reminded myself why I was here, reminded myself what was at stake.

  And then, after another deep breath—which I was sure he didn’t miss like he hadn’t missed the first—I met his eyes again.

  I almost bolted from the shock of it but stood firm.

  “I need to speak with you.” My voice was strong, or as strong as it could be, and hoped that was enough.

  “You said you needed to speak with the boss.”

  The first sound of his voice shot straight to my core, the deep, lightly accented rasp threatening the little bit of control I retained.

  I couldn’t say what I had been expecting coming here, hadn’t really thought about what my first encounter with a mob boss would be like, what the man would be like.

  But whatever expectations I may or may not have had, I’d been certain I could handle this, handle him.

  Certain I would stay in control.

  I always did, and this would be no different.

  This man was making a mockery of that idea.

  And he was reminding me that I needed to get myself together, stay alert.

  This man was no petty street criminal, and my reaction to him was something I hadn’t anticipated.

  No matter, I told myself.

  Whatever he might be, however I might react to him, I’d come here for a reason, and that was all that mattered.

  He hadn’t looked away from me, no doubt waiting for an answer to his unasked question.

  “That’s you,” I said, proud that I managed to sound unaffected.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “It’s you,” I said as a way of answer.

  He stared at me a moment longer and then shifted his head and whispered something in what I was now pretty sure was Russian.

  The man to his left moved immediately, and the boss stood, moving with grace I hadn’t expected, yet another reminder that my expectations had no place here.

  My initial impression of him had been correct.

  He was massive, tall, towering over my own five-eight, his body broad, muscular in a way that made me and my very generous curves feel almost delicate.

  A rare feeling, but one I certainly wouldn’t indulge.

  He turned his back to me and then looked over his shoulder.
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  “Come.”

  I moved automatically, feeling somewhat sheepish that I had been so caught in my examination of him that I hadn’t picked up on his intent.

  I followed behind him, his sure steps guiding us through the dining room back toward the kitchen.

  The room bustled with activity, people scurrying here and there, but he walked through the apparent chaos with surefooted steps, and the kitchen workers moved seamlessly around him without directly acknowledging his presence or mine.

  I followed as closely as I dared, which wasn’t too close, possibilities that I hadn’t considered before bombarding my mind.

  What if he wasn’t the boss?

  I thought he was, felt it in my bones, but what did I know of these things?

  Nothing.

  What if he was leading me to my death or some even worse fate?

  Stop it, Erin.

  All of the true crime shows I had watched came rushing back to me at once, but I tamped down those morbid thoughts, reminded myself that I had come here voluntarily, and, more importantly, that I needed him.

  Once we left the kitchen, he continued down a sparsely lit hall.

  The sounds of the restaurant started to fade, and soon there was nothing but silence occasionally punctuated by the beat of my own heart.

  I was bombarded by a mix of emotions—fear, hopefulness, and something else darker, more primal underneath them all.

  I pushed them aside, trying to keep focused on what I was here for.

  Finally, when we got to the end of the hall, he reached for the keypad on the door frame, punched in seven numbers, and after a low click, turned the doorknob and pushed the door open.

  He walked through the door without looking back at me.

  Hadn’t looked back once.

  For all he knew, I could have fled or been preparing to attack him.

  But then I realized I was wrong, remembered that he was always paying attention.

  For some reason, that thought spurred me to move.

  I took a step, another, following him, the emotions I fought to keep at bay intensifying.

  Something about this felt momentous, inexorable, and though I didn’t have the time to figure out why, part of me, some elemental thing, knew that walking through this door would change my life forever.

  Common sense told me I should walk away.

  I stepped inside.

  * * *

  Sasha

  She’d hesitated, the first smart thing she’d done since she’d walked through the restaurant’s doors.

  After all, she was going to be alone with me, a man whose reputation clearly proceeded him.

  Whatever she’d heard about me, however bad it might have been, hadn’t dissuaded her.

  I wished it had.

  Because my reaction to her, that I’d had any reaction at all, wouldn’t end well for either of us.

  Even now, a low voice in the back of my head whispered mine, desire unlike any I’d ever encountered making my heart race.

  Once I’d waited long enough for me to regain my control, and for her to be appropriately unnerved, I turned to face her.

  A huge mistake based on the way my lungs constricted at the first glimpse of her.

  Who the fuck was this woman, and what was she doing to me?

  I kept my gaze on her, deciding to study her again to try to figure out what about her was getting to me.

  Slightly above average height, thin braids pulled back into a neat little bun.

  Dark brown skin that was absolutely flawless with no hint of makeup.

  Tits my hands wouldn’t be able to contain, shapely hips and ass, thick waist that would be perfect to hold if—when—I fucked her from behind.

  Average face I wouldn’t have looked at twice under ordinary circumstances, but these were anything but and hadn’t been since she’d walked through the door.

  She’d had my attention from the first, my curiosity piqued when she’d stopped in front of the table looking all prim and proper and completely out of place.

  But when she’d spoken, her voice low and sultry, though I was certain that wasn’t what she intended, nervous in a way aroused both my protective instincts and made me want to conquer her, I was done.

  Even with the hesitation, worry she hadn’t been able to hide even though I could tell she was trying, her voice seemed to snake its way down my spine, curve around my cock, and ignite me in a way that demanded I make her mine.

  My reaction should have been enough to make me send her away, but the idea of not hearing that voice again was unthinkable.

  And now that I had her here alone, that initial reaction only intensified.

  My mind, which was always focused on business—how to make it grow, the dangers that lurked around every corner—was empty now save thoughts of her.

  I stared at her, fighting to remain impassive but not sure that I could, captivated by the white T-shirt that looked so beautiful against her skin, jean that weren’t designed to show off her figure but could do nothing to hide the shape of her hips, the thickness of her thighs.

  Mine!

  The thought came again like a flash of lightning.

  Persistent.

  And right.

  I didn’t understand it, but not understanding didn’t change the fact that every ounce of me knew this woman belonged to me.

  That thought, the acceptance of the truth of it, served to calm me.

  I would have her.

  There was no question of that.

  Now I could figure out why she had delivered herself into this lion’s den.

  “What’s your name?”

  She didn’t move, but at the sound of my voice, her eyes flashed with something I could only call relief.

  Probably gratitude that I had finally broken the silence.

  “Erin. Erin Nelson,” she whispered.

  What a sweet, good girl name.

  It fit her.

  “And you?” she asked a moment later, her brow raised in question but her lashes slightly lowered.

  I wondered if she knew what she was doing, the way she alternated between staring at me and acting as though she were too shy to meet my gaze.

  Decided she didn’t.

  I knew pretense, had to if I wanted to thrive in a world where nothing could be taken at face value.

  Ms. Nelson was no fake.

  Her reactions to me were authentic, just as my desire—no, need—for her was.

  “You came here looking for a person whose name you don’t know?”

  That was stupid, dangerous, and I didn’t even allow myself to contemplate what would have happened if she had done the same thing with someone who wasn’t me.

  “Well?” I said after she didn’t answer.

  “No one would tell me who the boss was, wouldn’t even acknowledge that there was a boss, but I knew there had to be.”

  “So, you came here on a hunch looking for person whose name you didn’t know, who might not even exist?” I said, doing my best to keep my anger out of my voice.

  The fact that I was angry surprised me, but the thought of her being vulnerable, putting herself in danger, got to me in a way little ever had.

  “I had to try,” she whispered, the vulnerability in her voice tugging at heartstrings I’d only discovered when I saw her.

  “You’re that desperate?” I asked, unable to keep all the scorn out of my tone.

  “Yes.”

  She responded without hesitation and finally met my eyes again.

  I saw so much in the depths of her intelligent brown eyes.

  Fear, defiance.

  Desperation I wanted to replace with contented satisfaction, preferably after I’d fucked us both to heights we’d never experienced before.

  “Sasha,” I said.

  She flinched and then quickly recovered.

  “Um… pleased to meet you, Sasha.”

  It was almost laughable, that kind of pleasant greeting, but I knew it was sincere.r />
  Just as I knew it was her way of hiding, trying to cover up for the nerves that it was impossible for me to miss.

  “Why are you here, Erin Nelson?”

  My question seemed to shake something in her, wake her up. She met my gaze then, her eyes darkening with determination.

  “I need your help.”

  Two

  Erin

  He gave no reaction to my statement, but I hadn’t really expected him to.

  It had occurred to me before I’d even come here that he was probably accustomed to people asking him for things.

  And besides, what other reason would I have to seek him out?

  I had never felt more out of place anywhere, and that was saying something given how awkward I often felt in the company of others.

  But with him, the fish-out-of-water feeling I was so accustomed to intensified, was something else altogether really.

  I liked to consider myself brave, but I was playing at an entirely different level and realized that with him, this wasn’t play, not at all.

  Everything was at stake.

  “Help?” he said, as though the word was unfamiliar to him.

  Or maybe it was just a test.

  I hadn’t yet figured him out, but I could see the challenge in the question and sensed he was trying to intimidate me, scare me into running away.

  Well, I might not be a complicated, strong criminal like him, but I was not a wimp.

  Beyond the desperation that had brought me here, there was no way I was going to run now, if only to spare a little bit of my pride.

  “Yes,” I said, my voice even, just this side of condescending. “Help.”

  He sat in the office chair behind the massive desk that dominated the room, and he looked at me, something like amusement on his face, which seemed odd.