Love is Rage: a Dark Captive Romance (Bloody Romance Book 2) by Shanna Bell

Author:Shanna Bell [Bell, Shanna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-14T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

VIKING

The vultures were waiting. Kristoff and Sokolov sat on the lawn chairs to his right, sharing a drink and a cigar. Scattered around them were both Sokolov’s men as their own, all eager to watch the upcoming brawl. In the old day, they’d make you walk down a gauntlet for breaking a blood vow. He should be thankful he still had a chance to see another day.

The women weren’t there, but most likely watching through the curtains. He could feel Annika’s vengeful eyes prick in his back. Word had gotten to him she had personally demanded retribution for the slight against her. He got that. She was a Russian mob princess after all and had her pride. Apparently, she had even shed a tear or two. Her crocodile tears didn’t fool him: she was a blood-thirsty bitch whose pride he’d offended.

Still, to save her face, and the Pakhan’s, Kristoff had come up with a solution: a brawl between the two Bratvas, with Vasili leading the pakhan’s, against any man of Viking’s choosing. Viking recognized it for what it was, a way to save face for both parties. Whatever Sokolov really thought of him breaking off the engagement was anyone’s guess. What Viking did know was that business was everything to him. The old man couldn’t care less about who his niece married, as long as it was someone he could use.

Sokolov was watching with intent, though his face gave nothing away. He raised his glass. “Nothing forges stronger bonds as when men bleed together.”

As if on cue, Vasili stepped forward, flanked by two of his men. If there was ever a trio that was fed with meat and corn their entire life, it would be these three mean-looking Russians. They all had a cut buzz and looked like they ate kittens for breakfast.

It didn’t matter: he was bigger.

Baran appeared by his side, followed by Yuri.

“The pretty Kaplan prince,” Vasili said, a sneer in his tone. “Are you sure you can hold your own, boy? I wouldn’t want your big brother to look me up when I mess your face up, raki boy.”

The insult was clear. Like most people who knew Baran only by his feared family name, Vasili underestimated him.

Baran’s lips stretched into a wide grin. “I’m going to shove that bottle of vodka down your throat. Proving, once and for all, why raki is superior to vodka.”

Hands had been shaken, pleasantries had been exchanged. Time to get this show on the road.

Without further ado, Viking grabbed Vasili by the collar and head-butted him. He pushed away the pain radiating off his own skull. Seeing Vasili’s nose splinter and him going down, was worth everything.

After that, it was a brawl for all. Fists smashed, elbows were shoved into faces, bones were broken.

Viking spit out blood filling his mouth as he shoved Vasili off of him. The bastard was surprisingly fast on his feet. All that vodka in his veins must dull the pain or something. Viking took another blow to his ribs and didn’t even hit back when he saw an opening.

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