Brute’s Revenge (Evil Fallen Bratva MC #1) Read Online Sam Crescent

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Dark, Mafia, MC, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Evil Fallen Bratva MC Series by Sam Crescent
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
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Vlad and Road left him alone.

The party had been a front, and it had long since died down when he had his target. Rat Boy Pete had sent him the text confirming he’d gotten her and that they were on a date. Brute had told him to go to Beverly, to lie and pretend he was a good little soldier for Nikki. All Beverly wanted was the respect and title that only Sergey could give her. After she popped out a daughter, and Faith hadn’t lived up to Nikki’s standards, Beverly had meant nothing to him.

Brute knew how it all worked.

He stared at the woman who was chained to the bed by her ankle. She sat on the bed, back leaning against the wall, looking totally … confused.

He knew he should leave her alone. The plan was to take her and keep her, but he couldn’t resist going inside to talk to Faith one more time. If needed, he would kill her, to make Golubev pay. She wouldn’t be the first woman he’d killed.

Faith tensed up, but she made no move to leave the bed. She folded her arms in front of her chest but the tension in her body was clear to see.

“Have you called my mother yet?” she asked, speaking first.

He grabbed a chair and dragged it across the floor. The noise filled the air, and it was horrible. He saw her wince, and he kept going until the chair was in front of her bed.

“No.”

“Why not?” she asked. “If it’s money you’re after, if you call my mom, she’ll figure out a way to contact my dad.”

“Wow, you do surprise me, Faith. Talking so openly about who you’re related to.”

“I’m not stupid. I saw the name of the club when Pete drove us here. You’re the Evil Fallen Bratva MC. I don’t know what that means, but I’ve heard your name mentioned a time or two, and I know my mom is afraid of you. She told me that if I ever saw any of you, I was to look the other way or run. You know who I am. You knew who I was the moment I walked through the door. There’s no point in playing dumb or denying the obvious.”

Brute was impressed. He couldn’t remember a woman ever talking to him so bluntly. There was no smile on her face, no laughter.

“I don’t know what any of this is about. I … I didn’t want to go on this date. My mom made me.”

“Yeah, your mom will be so disappointed.” He tutted. “She expected someone to impress, didn’t she? Rat Boy Pete is a nobody, and he’s not going anywhere fast, trust me.”

“Just add it into a long line of disappointments. My mom won’t be surprised.”

Brute stared at her. “Why aren’t you begging?”

“Will it do me any good?” she asked.

“No.”

“Then I won’t beg.”

This made him smile. “So there is some Golubev inside you.”

She shrugged.

Golubev was known for not begging. He took until there was nothing left.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Nothing for you to worry that pretty little head over. You might want to get comfortable. It’s going to be a long time before you’re free.”

He got to his feet and made his way toward the door.

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked.

“That I’m not sure about.” He winked at her and then slammed the door closed, flicking the lock into place. A lot of his men would love to spend a short time with her, releasing their aggression and hatred on a Golubev. They wouldn’t even care if it was a woman.

There was no way she could be innocent since she had Golubev blood running through her veins. In their book, that instantly tainted her.

Brute couldn’t help but have one last, lingering look. She wasn’t what he anticipated, but she’d do.

Chapter Two

She’d been locked away two days so far. Faith had only come to that conclusion because of the two different breakfast meals she’d been presented with. The first had been some toast with jam. She hated jam, but she wasn’t going to complain.

While one of the men watched, she ignored the butter and slathered the jam on her bread. She felt quite proud of herself for not wrinkling her nose.

The guy who brought her breakfast was a little stumped when she politely asked to use the bathroom. There wasn’t any way for her to go in her cell. Part of her expected them to bring in a bucket, but Brute came down less than five minutes later, removed the chain, and pulled her back upstairs, toward the main room she’d seen the night before, and shoved her in the toilet, then into a cubicle.

She didn’t get any privacy.

He stood there with his arms folded and when she asked for privacy, all he did was snort and tell her no. She was never going to get that luxury. It made her hate him just a little bit more.


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