Paying The Bratva’s Debt
Jagger Cole
Paying The Bratva’s Debt
Jagger Cole © 2021
All rights reserved.
Cover by Plan 9 Book Design | Editing by MJ Edits
Proofing by Jessie Stafford, Teshia Elborne
This is a literary work of fiction. Any names, places, or incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Similarities or resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events or establishments, are solely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal and a violation of US copyright law.
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Contents
Paying The Bratva’s Debt
A Special Present
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Also by Jagger Cole
About the Author
Paying The Bratva’s Debt
A debt is owed. And it will be paid.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been confined in a gilded cage. Beautiful, delicate, untouched. Meant to be seen and not heard. A perfect little prop for my father’s political career.
But that all changes when Viktor Komarov, the most powerful, notoriously dangerous criminal in Chicago, explodes into my world.
My father hired Victor to do a job: assassinate a political rival. But the brutal, ruthlessly cold Bratva kingpin doesn't work for free. And when my father can't pay him in time, Victor sets his eyes on another prize: me
Now I’m his. A captive in his lavish home. A distraction for his fierce gaze. A plaything for his every whim.
At first I hate him. But then something changes. I know it’s wrong. The captive isn’t supposed to want the captor. You’re not supposed to crave the man holding the keys to your imprisonment. You’re not supposed to ache with need when he rattles the cage.
Viktor’s the splash of red in my black and white life. And before long, the line between good and bad, love and lust, and captivity and freedom becomes irrevocably blurred. I've been caged again. So why do I feel liberated?
A debt is owed. And it will be paid. Again, and again, and again…
Hang on tight, because this Bratva captive romance is guaranteed to leave you breathless. Safe, absolutely no cheating, no cliffhanger, and a perfect happy ever after.
A Special Present
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1 Fiona
This party sucks.
I fidget to myself, glancing around the crowd. It’s a lot more people than I’m used to seeing, which is having an effect on my nerves a little. There’s only maybe forty people here, but still. For me, with the walled, ivory tower life I lead?
Well, it’s a lot.
What’s worse is that the party is my party. Or at least, it’s being thrown for me by my father. And when Chicago District Attorney Thomas Murray says jump? Well, you jump. Or show up to his daughter’s graduation party, as the case may be.
But the premise and the invitations are wrong. This party isn’t really for me. I mean on the surface it is. But just like everything when it comes to my father, this all boils down to his own political agenda. Everything always has. Where I attended school. The friends I had. The boyfriends I wasn’t allowed to have. Smile for the press, Fiona. Make sure you’re on the debate team at school—the press will eat it up when they see you following in my footsteps.
Part of me wanted to fail, at anything, just to spite him. I dreamed of being the monkey wrench in his scheming and plotting. But I could never bring myself to do it. So instead, I did what he wanted me to do: succeed. And now here I am, twenty-two years old after graduating college now law school early as well. All the right grades. All the right degrees, from all the right schools. All the right friends, no boys.
“Why the fuck are you not drinking?”
I grin and turn. Well, not all the right friends.
Zoey would be the one exception to my dad’s strict rules on who I see or hang out with. I may have been home schooled because my father rarely allows me to even leave our uptown townhouse. He may have pulled serious political strings to get college and law school to let me take classes remotely. I might have had my extracurricular activities and my friends hand-picked to make his political career look the best it could. But somehow, Zoey Stone slipped through the cracks.
It’s not like she’s completely bad news or anything. On the surface, she’s even exactly who my father would want me to hang out with—from the right family, has the money, goes to the right schools, and all of that crap. But she also has the freedom I don’t, complete with the ability to make bad choices, date glamorous older men, and party when she wants to. She’s almost certainly a bad influence. But sometimes, you need a little bad influencing.
It should make zero sense that my father would allow me to even live in the same zip code as her. But Zoey’s mom and mine were best friends. Cancer took them both around the same time, almost ten years ago. I guess even “image is everything” Thomas Murray wasn’t stone-cold enough to block me from hanging out with Zoey here and there after that.
“Oh my God, I’m so glad you’re here.”
Zoey grins and hugs me close. “And miss this debacle? Of course I’m here.”
“And of course, to support your dear friend Fiona while she’s made to play a pawn in a game she hates?”
Zoey grins. “That too. So…” she turns to glance over the huge crowd of guests. “How many of these people do you
