Midnight Poison (Zarkov Bratva #2) Read Online Penny Dee

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Zarkov Bratva Series by Penny Dee
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Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
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His eyebrows shoot up. “Just like you did to Aleks?”

“Exactly like I did to Aleks. You betray the bratva like he did, and you die like he did.”

He slowly rises to his feet but makes no move for the gun I know he keeps in the breast pocket of his suit. “You are out of control.”

“Which is the right thing to say to a man pointing his fucking gun at you,” I growl.

The door opens, and Boris and Maksim stroll in as if they’re not fifteen fucking minutes late.

“Looks like we’re missing out on all the fun,” Boris jokes, but his smile quickly fades when he feels the fury burning off me like flames.

“What the hell is going on?” Maksim asks.

“Perhaps we should sit down,” Boris says to his son and ushers him to their seats.

“Good fucking idea. You can tell me why you were late once I’ve dealt with this mudak and his scheme to get rid of me so he could step into the role of pakhan.”

Vadim remains stoic, looking down the barrel of my gun. “That’s not true.”

“No? You’ve been scheming to get rid of me since I stepped into this role. Always questioning my decisions. Whispering behind my back, knowing it would get back to me.”

“It’s no secret I think you’re too young for the role. I’ve never tried to hide it.” He looks to his brother, but Boris looks away. “But I would not betray my pakhan.”

“Then explain to me why every time I turn around, I find you and Vlad together.”

His eyes sparkle back at me, and for a moment, I can see my father in them. A proud, intelligent man and a brilliant strategist.

My grip on my gun tightens.

He is nothing like my father.

“Vlad is an associate, nothing more. You will need to trust me on this, Nephew.”

I step closer. “But I don’t trust you, Uncle. I want you gone.”

“You don’t have any proof to have me thrown out of this bratva. I’m not Aleks. I’m a part of the inner circle. The rules apply.”

An old vor clears his throat. “Vadim is correct, Pakhan. There are ways to do these things. I urge you to put down your gun.”

“And I want answers,” I growl. I press my gun to Vadim’s temple, and the tension in the room gets heavier. “Fuck the rules.”

Vadim looks to Boris. “You have nothing to say, Brother?”

But Boris remains tight-lipped, and Vadim sends him a menacing look.

He closes his eyes.

But I don’t pull the trigger. Instead, I rip my gun away and step close enough to whisper in his ear, “You’re lucky I want answers more than I want your brains splattered all over this table.”

The proud old man’s shoulders sag with relief, but he says nothing.

I turn my attention to Feliks, Boris, and Maksim. “In my office, now. The rest of you are dismissed.”

I don’t mention Brooke’s pregnancy. For now, she has a large enough target on her back because she is my fiancée. I can only imagine how big that target would grow when my enemies learn she is carrying my heir.

8

LEV

“Well, that was intense,” Feliks says as the four of us ride the elevator from the basement to my office on the penthouse floor.

“Did you follow up on those things I asked you to look into?” I ask him.

Feliks has been on Vlad detail, and I want to know everything. Where he was last seen. When his credit cards were last used. We have eyes on his house and other properties that he has around New York and across the country, and I’ve had my men leave no stone unturned looking for him.

If he’s smart, he would’ve left New York by now.

Feliks leans against the mirrored elevator wall. Relaxed as usual. “I did. But why are we going to your apartment? I could just as easily have filled you in downstairs.”

I ignore his question. “And what did you find out?”

“His credit cards haven’t been used since the day following the attack on Brooke. And he hasn’t been seen in just as long. He hasn’t stepped foot in any of his properties here in New York or anywhere else. But we’re still looking.”

I turn my attention to Boris and Maksim. I’m pissed at them for arriving late to the meeting. Their tardiness is disrespectful and unacceptable, not to mention suspicious. It might be paranoia, but I’m not beyond suspecting my closest family members at this stage. “Where were you?”

“No disrespect was meant, Nephew,” Boris says. “But we had a lead on Vlad that we needed to pursue. It was time-sensitive. We had to act on it.”

“He’d been keeping company with a woman in New Jersey in the lead-up to the attack on Brooke,” Maksim explains. “We were lead to believe he might be holed up with her.”

“Who told you this?”


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