His Bratva Princess

Chapter 6

Viktor

"I want to know what the fuck is happening with my shipments. Who the fuck is taking our weapons?" I slam my hand onto the table looking at all my men.
"Boss, I've been looking into it and from my intel I think we have a rat amongst us," Nikolai, one of my closest men, states.
I rub my overly grown stubble between my thumb and index finger and frown. He makes a point, I already knew it deep down but I didn't want to.
"Do you know who?" I ask through my teeth, the anger courses through me.
"No, boss. I'm working on it though. What I've got so far is an account linked under the black market, no name or address. They scheme when to do it though, that shits clear. I'm assuming there's someone on the outside who they're working with," he informs me of his intel.
I nod slowly and sigh, "alright. You can all leave now."
They all pile one by one and I sigh, checking my Rolex for the time. 9:15. Fuck, I'm supposed to be interviewing for The Vault. The only reason I said I'd interview in the first place was because I knew Sofia was going out. With the new intel on the rat we have nestling in amongst our men or women, who knows who it could be. Plus, the Irish are getting reckless and who's to say they wouldn't try anything? Sofia is always in amongst the trouble somehow, she's a Bratva princess. She immediately has a target on her head. Plus, she likes to make a statement with all of those short skirts and dresses she wears.
       I gather my things, which consists of my phone and keys and head to the door. Nikolai waits for me outside, his arms crossed over his chest and a brooding look cast on his face. Upon seeing me he pushes off from the wall and walks with me.
      "What are we gonna do, boss?" He questions.
      I sigh and run a hand through my hair, "I don't fucking know. We need to find them soon, they're taking our weapons and therefore money. Who knows who they're trading with," I respond.
     We both walk to the car, he hops into the passenger seat whilst I sit in the drivers seat. Nikolai's father was second in command to my father, until he was shot dead by the Irish. It's always the fucking Irish mob. Now, Nikolai has taken over as second in command and has been for the last 6 months. I've known Nikolai my entire life, we trained together and learned everything we know together. Of course there were a few more things I needed to know, but other then that we knew just about everything the other person did.
     There's two Irish mob gangs, one of them is clearly dealing with trafficking women and children whilst Im not sure about the other. Something has to be done soon. If we find one of the groups isn't dealing in that shit, a deal will need to be struck.
      It takes me 15 minutes to arrive at The Vault. I enter through the back doors, the two security guards bow their heads in respect towards Nikolai and I as we enter the club. My eyes roam the room, looking for Sofia. I grow agitated when I can't see her brown curly hair.
     Nikolai and I walk to the back room where the interviews will be held. I'm hiring more security now all this shit is going down. I'm starting to think I'm going to have to hire more security for Sofia and my sister.
     One of the bar girls saunters in with a tray of drinks. She comes close, batting her lashes down at me. I sigh, take the drink and look past her. Whilst men after men come in for interviews, I grow bored and grab out my phone whilst Nikolai listens to them with a stoic face.
Where's Sofia? I send the message to Antoni.
On the dance floor with Mila- Antoni
     I grind my molars together and crack my knuckles. Checking the time, I almost groan at the realisation I have 3 more people to interview and it's already 10:00.
      I send a message to my security to bring Sofia to me. I know she won't be too happy about it, but it's what's best. I shouldn't haven't even allowed for her to go out in the first place with everything that's going on. It's not safe for a little thing like her.
     Minutes later, Sofia and Mila are both brought into the room shouting and arguing. Sofia looks around madly and her eyes zone in on me as she points at me. My cock gardens at the sight of her. Short black mini dress, cleavage showing for days. She shouldn't be wearing it. Her milky tanned legs look even longer with those fuck me heels she has on. Who the fuck let her leave the house like that?
       "You!" She points at me and comes charging towards me. "Why. The. fuck. Do. You. Always. Do. This!" She says in between slapping my chest with her purse.
      I entrap her wrists with my own hands and don't say anything for a moment, allowing her to calm down.
     "You good moya zhena?" I question.
      She begins cursing in Italian at me, her eyes tearing up in the process.
      "You always do this to me. Always. You never ever let me be my own person, I'm sick of it," she cries.
       "Lyubov'," I sigh and rub her cheek with the pad of my thumb.
       "No. I'm done, Viktor," she spits.
       "Done with what?" I frown.
       Her lips quiver and she sniffles, "you."