Diamond Days (Born Bratva 6)(9)

 

He clasped her chin and turned her face toward him because he knew she was pouting and it was so damn sexy.

 

"We play, you and I, but know this, my beautiful wife: be it boy or girl … I will give that grandchild and every grandchild we are blessed with, the very depths of my heart and soul. My family is my life and my devotion spans the generations. That is why someone must die for today's atrocity … "

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

 

The smell of sweat and blood, combined with the over-abundance of testosterone in Glazov's system, had his blood pumping vigorously through his veins. He needed to fight-he need to hit something-he needed to hurt someone.

 

He loved this gym. Long ago, he had decided to build a training facility for Russian fighters. He deliberately recruited men in dire straits on the streets of Russia and brought them here on work visas to train in this gym. Glazov understood that hunger and the survival instinct often drove men to do things they would never do under ordinary circumstances. When a man was fighting for his life, there was fire in his eyes and fury in his fists.

 

At least Glazov knew he was leaving a positive mark on his legacy. He was taking starved souls and giving them hope and a fresh start. When your next meal was likely going to be from a garbage can, a life of luxury  –  even when it was earned through your own hard-fought success -- would never erase a man's brutal memories of life on the streets.

 

"Boss, we've been through this before … the trainees are reluctant to fight you." Glazov glared down at the man he had hired to train the fighters.

 

"Yeah, motherfucker," Novak smirked, "he doesn't want you busting up his precious trainees."

 

"Well, cousin, since you're so concerned about the trainees … how about you and I go a few rounds?"

 

Of course, his troublemaking cousin had a smartass answer for everything. "Right. Ain't never gonna happen … when I run up against a big, overgrown asshole like you, I just take out my Glock and the rest is history. Simple."

 

"You and I both know why you won't get in that ring with me: this isn't a fairytale and I am your worst nightmare."

 

"You're everybody's worst nightmare, cuz-you're Alexander-fucking-Glazov."

 

A new trainee strode over and leaned down to whisper in his trainer's ear. The older man inhaled deeply as if he was contemplating the question. He thoughtfully rubbed the imaginary stubble on his chin before reluctantly nodding his head.

 

 

 

        

          

        

         

 

"Mr. Pakhan, sir, I'm honored to meet you," the young man said with a small, formal bow, completely missing Novak's impatient eye roll behind him. "My name is Kolya Ivanov and I want to thank you for bringing me here. I'll do all I can to make you proud. It would be an honor to spar with you, sir."

 

The kid had a hungry look in his eyes; Glazov would make sure he didn't underestimate the little shit when he got in the ring.

 

"Finally … somebody with balls. Let's go."

 

Turns out, he was right. At the first stinging punch to his jaw, Glazov had to shake it off and concentrate to fight. Novak was the only one who noticed the Pakhan's grin even though he was wearing a mouth guard. The boy was giving Glazov exactly what he wanted: a real fight.

 

Glazov's face was soon bruised and his muscles ached, but he powered through the fight, confident that he had the same hunger he had been born with. Some people were born with an innate need to be successful in the endeavors they pursued. Nothing could take that away. No amount of adversity could kill his determination to see his Bratva legacy continue. Times might change, circumstances might change, but Glazov's hunger remained.

 

When he finished the grueling sparring session, Glazov congratulated the man who would now be his full-time sparring partner. A man who respected the Pakhan yet had no fear fighting him, was a man who respected boundaries but pushed his own limits. With all that had happened recently and with so many lines being blurred, it was good to know such men still existed. Yes, he would be hanging on to this one. In fact, after the brutal fight he had just endured, Glazov had every reason to believe he had a heavyweight champion on his hands.

 

The shower felt good as he let the water cascade over his sore muscles. He had exercised his body, now it was time to exercise his mind. He was looking forward to the challenge of finding the person who had betrayed him. The same way he welcomed a good fight, he loved a good mind fuck. Again, let the games begin …