Page 1 of The Bratva's Stalked Bride
Chapter 1 - Simon
The hot Miami sun scorches down against my shoulders, and a trickle of sweat runs down my back. I roll my neck, hearing a soft crack, then lean forward to pick up the last box from the back of my SUV.
“That’s all of them,” I say, setting the heavy load onto the trolley so that Devon can wheel it into the warehouse.
It’s a small but incredibly important delivery for a client that I opted to oversee myself due to the order’s delicate nature. It’s the second order this particular client has placed, and the first one had a bit of a hiccup, so I wanted to make sure his second experience with us went smoothly. I collected these products from Fort Lauderdale at the very early hours of this morning.
“I’ll triple-check the truck before it leaves the warehouse,” Devon confirms.
“Thanks, man. I appreciate that.”
Turning my back to the warehouse, I look out over the docks, lifting my hand to shield my eyes from the sun’s glare.
Seagulls cry a relentless gargle against the salty ocean air.
Business has been good. Life has been pretty good.
If it weren’t for the issues I have with Jaco Marcas, things would be perfect.
“Ok, the boxes are all loaded. Fuck it’s hot. Feels well over 100 today!” Devon wipes the back of his forearm across his face to stop the sweat from dripping in his eyes.
Thanks goodness I had the aircon blasting the whole drive. But the thirty minutes it’s taken to unload the boxes have my shirt drenched and my skin burning.
“Yeah, I think I’m going to head home and do a few laps in the pool. You’re escorting the truck, right?” I ask.
“Yes, sir, Max and I are going to follow in the Audi.”
He nods, setting his hands on his hips and leaning back to flex his spine. “Thank goodness it’s just around the corner. Then I’ve got my kids’ recital at school.”
“Nice, I hope it goes well. How old is Becka now? Seven?”
“Six and suddenly go this massive attitude. I guess she gets it from her mother,” he chuckles.
My phone rings, and I pull it from my back pocket.
“Marlen,” I say as I take my brother’s call. Turning, I wave to Devon. He smiles and nods and gives me a cursory silent wave before heading back toward the warehouse while I climb into my car, immediately setting the cold air to full blast.
“Hey man, how was the drive from Lauderdale?”
“Not too bad, it’s nice driving in the dark before the rest of the world is awake,” I say, reversing from the parking area. My back is sticking to the seat. I feel clammy and gross.
My shirt sleeves are rolled up over my forearms.
Marlen is the head of our family. He’s ruthless, cold, and often grumpy. There has been some improvement since he married Stef, but his nature is typical of a Bratva man. Wanting to be the most powerful. In charge. The strongest, coldest, deadliest man in the city.
I never had that drive.
The way I see it, it’s better to sit back and observe. Have patience and be calm.
That way, you get to plan everything. Nothing is a rush, so nothing can throw you off your game.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m as ruthless as the rest of them, but I have no desire to prove it to anyone.
Except Marcas.
“Stef wants to know if you want to join us for dinner tonight. We’re going to light a fire and throw some steaks on. Jump in the pool. Try ease off some of the heat,” he says.
“Thanks, but I’ve got a few things to do this evening. Tell Stef I appreciate the invite, though,” I reply.
