Twisted Prince

TWISTED PRINCE A Dark Bratva Mafia Romance NESSA GRAYE Contents Reader discretion advised Also by Nessa Graye 1. Nikolai 2. Melissa 3. Nikolai 4. Melissa 5. Nikolai 6. Melissa 7. Nikolai 8. Melissa 9. Nikolai 10. Melissa 11. Nikolai 12. Melissa 13. Nikolai 14. Melissa 15. Nikolai 16. Melissa 17. Nikolai 18. Melissa 19. Nikolai 20. Melissa 21. Nikolai 22. Melissa 23. Nikolai 24. Melissa 25. Nikolai 26. Melissa Also by Nessa Graye Join my mailing list and get exclusive updates and freebies! Reader discretion advised This novel features scenes and themes which some readers may find disturbing or upsetting. Reader discretion is advised. Also by Nessa Graye The Azarov Bratva series Savage Heart Brutal Temptation Sinful Vow (coming December 2022!) 1 Nikolai The storm breaks just as I arrive at the countryside villa. It’s built in the Italian style, but sits in a secluded chunk of the valley outside of Los Angeles. Southern California hasn’t had rain in weeks, someone at the airport tells me when I pick up my rental car. The storm will be a doozy. I’m bring the thunder. I’m bringing the lightning. My name is Nikolai Azarov. I’m an assassin in the Azarov Bratva. And this is just yet another job for me. The sundrenched highways had stretched open wide for me as I roared away from LAX. I’m meeting Alphonso Goretti, a former mobster who went clean years ago and became a film producer. Fact is, he ratted out his friends, and the Bratva is being paid a truly obscene amount of money to remind Alphonso what happens when you betray your friends. For month, I have corresponded with his people, setting myself up as an agent for a select number of Russian models seeking work in the United States after fleeing Eastern Europe due to the war in Ukraine. Of course, I can tell, he doesn’t want to cast any of the models I supposedly represent in any of his films. But he’s willing to string me along, so long as I bring a nice selection of my clients to his mansion to fuck. To play the part of the model, I’ve hired an out of work actress, Polina. She can affect a decent Eastern European accent by imitating her immigrant parents and that’s all I really need. She’s stunning, too, with the face of an angel and the body of a succubus and it’s all I can do to keep from fucking her right then and there in the back of this rented Tesla. But I’ve got my own code, when on a job. I do not mix business and pleasure. And I suspect that Polina won’t want anything to do with me once we’re done today. “This is a lot of money just to pretend to be your client,” she says, flipping through the cash I’ve handed her, nestled into a standard sized postal envelope. “Don’t spend it all in one place.” Or put it up your nose. I can see a coke addict a mile away. Poor Polina—honey, you’re supposed to wait until you’re successful to get on the powder. “So, all I have to do is—” “Sit there, look pretty. I need this motherfucker to front me the cash to bring over my actual clients, so you’re just a stand in.” Polina nods. “And that non-disclosure agreement I signed—” “Anything that happens while you work for me, you don’t reveal. Easy enough.” She takes a deep breath. She’s nervous, but desperation is a hell of a drug. “You’ll be fine. If you get overwhelmed, go back to the car and wait for me.” That sets her at ease. She’s shooting me little glances while I drive, and I can tell she’s wondering if I’m going to try and fuck her, and if she’s going to let me. From the way her lips are parting, as if practicing the way she’d kiss me, I’m guessing she’s leaning towards yes. We’ll see if she wants to fuck me once I’m covered in Alphonso Goretti’s blood. “Hey, Vlad, glad you could make the drive out, my friend,” Goretti exclaims as we stride into the palatial courtyard. He’s a tanned, hairy, rotund specimen of mafioso. Life has been good to him. As we approach him, he eases himself onto his feet from the poolside lounge chair where he’d found him reclining. He spreads his palms, a gesture of friendliness, of goodwill. He’s wearing sunglasses, and I see myself reflected in them— A tall man, a smile forced over his face, tattooed, a fierce glower in my own eyes. I make my face soften, if only slightly. I still have a job to do. A role to play. “It’s a pleasure, Alphonso. I knew you were a man of taste—this place is like Eden.” Before we can take another step closer to him, two men in suits—bodyguards, of course—materialize out of nowhere to pat us down. “Just a precaution,” Goretti says, his fleshy face stretching into an apologetic smile. “Can’t be too careful, these days.” Normally, I wouldn’t let another man get this close to me, but I just smile and shrug. “Can’t be any worse than the TSA, huh?” I say, as though I’ve been peddling the same joke ever since we started having to take our shoes off at the airport. Polina gives a yelp as the bodyguards pat her down a little too aggressively—I catch one of their hands on the small of her back, sliding off her ass, and she gives me an annoyed look. This wasn’t in the deal. “Excuse me,” I say, gently. “My client here is a professional. She’s not used to being treated so roughly.” “Of course, of course,” Goretti says, shooing away the bodyguards. “They’re a bit too enthusiastic. Especially with a young lady.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively in Polina’s direction and she gives a forced smile. “It is fine.” Her accent is as forced as her smile, but it’ll do. “I was simply