Deviant Prince (Bratva Mafia Twins Duet #1) - Claire C. Riley

Deviant Prince is the first installment of Born to Darkness, The Bratva Mafia Twins Duet. Followed by Twisted Princess.

Disclosure: Born to Darkness is a HOT, no-holds-barred, mafia romance with flavors of suspense and DOMs that leave you wanting more. Graphic sex. Language. Violence. Illicit dealings. Not for the faint of heart.

Chapter One

Alexander

Sitting on the right-hand side of my father, the rightful place for my position as heir to the kingdom, I wondered what consequences would befall a traitor like my uncle. My father didn’t trust easily—nor did any of the Vasiliev family for that matter—but betrayal always burned a little deeper when it was a blood relation doing the proverbial backstabbing. You always believed you could rely on family, right? You wanted to believe that, even when the truth was fucking unavoidable.

We’re all silent, waiting on my father’s judgment. He ruled with an iron fist and he wouldn’t go easy on my uncle. We worked hard to build our empire and greed had no place in our circle. My uncle should have known better…

“Come, Eduard, let us drink and forget this,” he waved a hand in the air, “we are brothers after all. A small mistake. A silly infraction.” He waved his hand again, a slight tremor tracing through his fingers, and I sneered because I could sense my uncle’s fear. It was palpable in the air.

We were all gathered in my father’s office in our family home. Though ‘home’ was an understatement; the place was big enough to comfortably handle several large families within its infinite rooms and copious grounds.

My father sighed and stood up. He nodded as he moved around the large mahogany desk. His face was a mask, giving no sign of what he would do next. But I already knew.

Blood is thicker than water.

But disloyalty is a stain that won’t come clean.

He stood behind my uncle's chair, putting his hands on his shoulders. “Brother, you disappoint me so,” he said, before letting go with a heavy sigh. I knew in that moment that my father was letting go. Of the brotherhood that had defined his childhood. He would not embrace my uncle. He would not give him such a soft goodbye.

That wasn’t the way of things.

There was no forgiveness, not for this kind of betrayal.

“It is not always so black and white, brother. It’s not always that easy,” my uncle replied. “You know this.” There was no dark resignation in his tone. He still believed that the blood between them would save his life.

But he was damned.

In soul and body.

My father stood behind my uncle.

Posture straight, shoulders back, his mouth pulled in a tight line.

I picked up my glass, sipping on the vodka in it as my father pulled out his gun and fired a single bullet into the back of my uncle's head. Blood sprayed the desk and my uncle's head lolled forwards. My father sighed and shook his head and I raised an eyebrow.

“It is always that easy, brother,” he said with a heavy heart. He looked across to me and I gave a nod of agreement. I saw the power in his eyes, and the pride on his face at my disciplined and unfazed expression.

“He was a traitor. He knew the consequences,” I stated simply. I put down my glass as I stood up, straightening my suit jacket before buttoning it. I headed across the room, patting my father’s shoulder as I went. “I’ll have Damien come and clear the mess.”

I gestured to my uncle’s dead body with a wave of my hand.

“Thank you, son,” he replied. “Are you coming tonight?”

I stopped in the doorway and turned to face him. “If you want me there, then of course I’m there,” I smiled, “but if I’m not needed…”

He laughed. “Always the playboy, my son. Unfortunately, those days must end eventually. You’ll need to find a wife soon enough, and there are many loyal families going to be there tonight, families with beautiful daughters. It would be good business for you to be seen. Perhaps someone will catch your eye there, or maybe you will catch someone else's eye.”

“I’m not having your rich friends palm me off with one of their daughters, father. A man should choose his own wife.” It was the one thing we’d both agreed on; I would find my own wife with no interference from the family. Though, our deal didn’t stop every rich Russian family from trying to lay their supposed virginial daughters at my feet.

I sighed, turning the platinum band