Debase Read online Rachel Van Dyken (Elite Bratva Brotherhood #1)

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Dark, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Elite Bratva Brotherhood Series by Rachel Van Dyken
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Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 108119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
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“I should be the one thanking you.” He grinned wider. “So glad I’m on shift tonight.”

I laughed a bit. “Me too, otherwise I would have been lost.”

“Nobody gets lost in this club,” he said pointedly. “Cameras everywhere.”

“What about the apartments?”

Ax didn’t even blink. “Those are his private residence. No cameras anywhere in that place, boss’s orders.”

“Hmm.”

“Good information, yes?” He winked.

“Oh no, it’s not, it’s not like that, not even a little bit it’s not—”

“Yeah okay, sure.” He shrugged as we walked up about a dozen stairs and into the VIP section with table service and couches. It was draped in blacks and reds just like the rest of the club but the seating was divided by curtains that could be drawn around for privacy.

It wasn’t very full yet, the section. When we rounded the corner, I had no time to prepare myself for the wives.

I was attacked.

With perfume, smiles, hugs.

From each and every one of them.

Trace was first. “That dress!”

Mo groaned. “I used to look sexy.”

“She’s pregnant,” Bee pointed out, air kissing each of my cheeks. “She feels fat.”

The woman looked like a freaking supermodel. “Uh, how far along?”

“Six months.” Mo made a face. “Water for the win.” She held up a water bottle. I smiled.

El was next on the hugging, Dante’s wife. “You’re stunning.”

“Oh.” I pressed a hand to my stomach while Val gave me a knowing look. “Thank you. I’m so glad you guys all came.”

“You kidding?” Val laughed. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“Same,” the girls all said in unison while I tried not to laugh. What did they think was gonna happen anyway?

I noticed his boots first, the red sticking out from the main couch, his legs spread like he owned the place, which I guess he did technically.

He looked like a Russian king.

A Czar.

Regal.

I sucked in a breath as he seemed to actually laugh at something Chase said, and then his head moved.

The wives, no joke, took one giant step away from me.

His smile fell.

Crap.

I should have chosen a different dress, worn more makeup, done something, anything.

His face looked like granite as his eyes lazily raked over me. Tex started choking on something while Chase whacked him in the back.

The only one not grinning from ear to ear in my direction was Andrei.

I almost turned and ran.

Almost.

Andrei finally lifted his hand and crooked one finger at me.

Great, now I was being summoned.

Punished.

The air suddenly felt smoky, choking as I took a step and then another. He didn’t even blink, his ice-cold eyes locked on mine like a tractor beam, and so I walked. I walked right up to him, stepped between his legs, and held my head high.

It felt like the entire club was watching him, waiting for his next decision. I kept the tremble from my body, barely, as his eyes slowly moved from my face down my chest, my hips, and then my shoes.

His leg was shaking like he was tapping his foot.

His eyes flashed.

And then his hands were on my hips, pulling me onto his lap. The dress was too tight, so I collapsed against his chest, my legs dangling over the side of his. And then his lips were on my neck, sliding up until he said with deathly calm in my ear. “I like your dress.”

I licked my lips. “Thank you.”

His hands didn’t move from my hips. He had his gloves back on, but I could feel their heat and I knew what his fingertips felt like against my skin, I could almost imagine them there now, digging into my flesh, tugging me hard against his lap.

Wait.

No.

What was I thinking?

I couldn’t.

Not with him.

Not ever.

What happened to not being attracted to powerful hurtful men?

And why was I still sitting on his lap like it was Christmas? I moved my hips against him and settled in more comfortably.

He flinched and then shot me a glare as a waitress dressed in a slinky red cocktail dress brought us all a round of shots.

Vodka, of course.

“Ypa,” He handed me a shot and then clinked his glass against mine while everyone else raised theirs with laughter, like they weren’t natural born killers.

Even the women.

A flash of knife showed against Mo’s thigh. She took a drink of water and winked.

Right.

“Ypa.” I repeated and downed my shot.

I’d need a lot more than one vodka shot to survive that night, wouldn’t I?

Thankfully, the waitress returned, this time with drinks, some wine, whiskey, a few Moscow mules that looked like heaven, and more shots.

Andrei immediately took the shot. I suddenly had this insane need to know how much vodka he could down while playing darts and attempting to hit a bullseye, and then felt stupid for being curious.

“So.” Tex stood and faced us, wrapping an arm around Mo. His mere presence was imposing, like he was too big for the room, knew it, and used it to his advantage. His dark reddish hair seemed to glisten underneath the pulsing lights. “Are we celebrating tonight?”


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