Bratva Vows Complete Box Set_ A Dark Mafia Romance - SR Jones

Chapter 1

Violet

I’m a lamb amongst wolves in this place.

Fear gives off a scent, one most people don’t notice but predators do. They can smell it on you, see it in the size of your pupils, hear it in the rate of your breathing.

I’m a lamb amongst wolves, and I must show no fear. I made a vow, and I will do all I can to keep it.

All around me the restaurant buzzes with activity, and yet the small group of men in the corner call to me, demanding my attention even as I know I must ignore them, act natural.

I hope and pray I’m not offering myself up to the slaughter, but if I am then please let me take the disgusting old man in the corner with me.

Glasses clink as couples enjoy a romantic night out. Low lights give the restaurant a warm ambience, and thick tablecloths and wallpaper absorb the noise, unlike many modern places.

The clientele are mostly middle-aged couples, those with enough money to eat in one of the top restaurants in north England.

At the far table, though, set in a dim recess, sit the wolves. They surround and protect the object of my hate.

Allyov.

The name alone sends a chill down my spine, and so it should. Head of a Russian crime family. Murderer. A gangster wearing the disguise of a jovial grandfather.

Not wanting to give myself away, to let the fear show, I force my gaze from the corner and carry on serving the wealthy, complacent diners.

The food here is excellent. We get to eat after our shift, whatever we want from what’s left on the menu. Yesterday I had the best Borscht I’ve ever tasted.

On the way to the kitchen with a pile of empty plates, I brush by Allyov’s table.

There’s the usual pair of heavy-set thugs and three older men, distinguished looking. They are drinking vodka and eating steak. The vodka comes in small glasses, no ice, no tonic. They have water in a jug and glasses for that too, but no one touches it.

“They don’t have enough men to do their dirty work, and it makes them weak,” one of the men says.

I understand his Russian, even though I have to concentrate hard in order to do so. Not that they know I speak their language. To them I’m simply a young British girl working for their boss. A nobody.

My nobody status is something I’ve worked hard to keep up for most of my life, encouraged by my father to always keep my head down and stay off the radar. It isn’t exactly difficult. We had few friends when I was growing up, and now, here in North England, where I’m a newcomer, I am a nobody.

No friends. No family. Only this crappy job. Of course, the job serves a purpose, as does having no friends or anyone close.

To maintain the air of anonymity, I try to look as ordinary as possible when at work.

I wear my hair pulled back in a tight bun, with a couple bits hanging loose around my face helping hide it. Those bits I always grease to make it look slightly dirty. A touch of grey eyeshadow to add an unhealthy pallor and dark circles. I drape my figure in loose trousers and a shapeless white shirt, my breasts bound underneath.

It doesn’t suit my plans to have Allyov notice me … yet.

From a young age, I’ve been told I’m beautiful. Teachers used to tell my father he must be proud to have such a beautiful daughter, as if genetic luck is something to take pride in.

Not that my looks ever got me far. They seemed to alienate quite a few people, and more than once I’ve been told my beauty is cold, aloof. My ex-boyfriend said I might have a rare kind of beauty, but I had no warmth to me and sucked in bed. Which was nice of him. I don’t think I’m cold. Maybe reserved, cautious, but not cold. As for the crap in bed bit, I haven’t tried it with anyone else, so I don’t know.

I hope I’m not truly terrible in the sack as it might mess up my plans.

I head into the kitchen, and the noise hits like a tsunami. Chefs shout orders, waitstaff scurry back and forth, and pans spit.

It’s stiflingly hot tonight. One of those British heatwaves where the night air is hardly any cooler than the day. A humid, oppressive heat without the welcome breeze you often get in less wet