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       Her Russian Returns (Brie's Submission Book 15), p.1

           Red Phoenix
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Her Russian Returns (Brie's Submission Book 15)

  Her Russian Returns:

  Brie’s Submission #15


  Red Phoenix

  Her Russian Returns: Brie’s Submission

  Copyright © 2017 by Red Phoenix

  Kindle Edition

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  [email protected]

  Edited by Jennifer Blackwell and Karen Koehler

  Proofed by Becki Wyer & Marilyn Cooper

  Cover by Viola Estrella

  Formatted by BB Books

  Phoenix symbol by Nicole Delfs

  Adult Reading Material (18+)


  I want to thank MrRed, who continues to be so supportive of my work.

  It’s not just the inspiration he provides, but the care and patience

  he gives me as a writer.

  He understands when I laugh or cry for no apparent reason

  as scenes from the story play out in my head at random moments.


  I also want to give special thanks to my children.

  Their enthusiastic support of my work has been a blessing and a joy.

  To my cast of fans who work diligently behind the scenes, my deepest thanks.

  Your hard work and belief in me never ceases to amaze and inspire.

  To every person who has taken the time to write an email, seek me out on social media, go to an author event, or send me a gift or a letter.

  You blow me away!

  I am every bit your fan, as you are mine. ~Red


  Title Page

  Copyright Page



  Shocking Truths

  Guardian Angel



  The Sacrifice

  Lesson in Sadism

  Her Voice

  Vodka Shot






  Making Amends


  Big Guns

  The Chase


  Other Red Phoenix Books

  Connect with Red on Substance B


  Rytsar Durov should be dead.

  But in the BDSM world, loyalties run as deep as kinky passions.

  Sir Thane Davis is determined to save his Russian brother, but must call on his friends at the Center to execute the plan.

  Clinging to hope, Brie trusts the sexy sadist will keep his promise to her.

  Rytsar is not a man to go down easily, but a sacrifice must be made if he is to survive…

  **Keep up to date with the newest release of Brie by signing up for Red Phoenix’s newsletter:**

  Shocking Truths

  Rytsar’s return to consciousness was a painful one. His head throbbed like a jackhammer was driving into his skull, the pain so intense it made him nauseous.

  Taking a survey of his surroundings without opening his eyes, Rytsar noted first the engine roar of a small airplane. He could only guess where they were taking him—he had expected to be dead by now.

  Resisting the urge to retch, Rytsar lay perfectly still, his survival instincts alerting him to the fact he was being watched as he lay there. With difficulty, he kept his breath even as an intense pain shot through his abdomen, making him want to scream in agony.

  Eventually, someone stood up and walked over to him, giving Rytsar a kick in the stomach. It took everything in him not to react, but when he didn’t respond, the man complained.

  “The fucking coward is still out. All this waiting is annoying me.” He must have swung back his leg for another kick because the commanding voice of their leader rang out.

  “Nyet! Durov is now the property of the Koslovs. You hurt him again and it will cost you your life.”

  “But he insulted the brothers in front of us. Surely that deserves punishment.”

  “It is the only reason I did not kill you when you pummeled him in the hospital. The brothers were very clear about the condition of this package we’re delivering.”

  “But what about Orlov? He almost killed the mu’dak.”

  The leader let out an amused snort in answer, letting Rytsar know the fate of the man who had tried to choke him to death. To defy a direct order from the Koslov brothers meant immediate death by the hands of their own.

  Rytsar was not surprised, however; Orlov had never been particularly bright. He’d set his sights on Rytsar early on to prove to the bratva organization that he was a man to be reckoned with. Being the gnat that he was, he’d only made a pathetic nuisance of himself.

  That is…until yesterday.

  It seemed fitting that the idiot had been thwarted by a cat.

  Rytsar had to keep his smile from his face, grateful he’d instructed Titov to set up a monthly shipment of caviar and catnip be sent to Thane’s home. It was a fair repayment for his debt, and might help convince his comrade to keep the animal.

  While he’d never become a pet lover, Rytsar definitely had feelings for that black tom cat and hoped Thane would reconsider his own stance on housing pets.

  Rytsar’s thoughts were interrupted when he heard one of them ask, “What happens if he doesn’t wake up?”

  “We’re all dead,” the leader said without hesitation.

  Rytsar was violently shaken by the man who had kicked him, which he now thought of as the instigator. “Wake up, you fucking mu’dak. I’m not dying because of you.”

  Suddenly a scuffle broke out as the man was taken to the ground. “You touch him again, and I will kill you with my bare hands,” the leader growled ominously.

  Rytsar found it amusing that even lying there bound and defenseless, he still wielded power over all these men.

  The landing hours later was rough and bumpy, which alerted Rytsar to his location. He knew that the Koslov brothers had a secret place somewhere up in the north. The jarring landing indicated it was a makeshift runway, and Rytsar suspected their location was somewhere in the middle of the frozen Siberian forest.

  Such an isolated place allowed them to do whatever they wished without the risk of detection, and the Koslov brothers were notorious for their ability to make people disappear without a trace.

  Rytsar had always assumed their influence was limited only to Russia, but after what had just happened in America, he understood they were now a global threat. It made them exceedingly dangerous—as the two brothers were not stable.

  Their lust for power and their impetuous nature made for a volatile and dangerous mixture.

  Rytsar had recognized that early on when they were still teenagers, and had avoided any dealings with the duo. Unfortunately, his father had not been so wise.

  By all accounts, Rytsar should have been dead that day his mother was murdered and he’d stormed into the Koslovs’ headquarters in full berserker mode. Strangely, he could remember nothing after charging into the room to find his father sitting at a card table, calmly making a bet.

  Everything went red, all rational thought evaporating, as Rytsar gave in to the darkest part of his soul. He was told afterward that he’d put four of the Koslov men down and was about to attack another when the patriarch of their clan, Nikolay, ordered Rytsar be subdued and brought to his personal quarters.
br />   It was a great shock to wake up the next day—still alive. That had not been the plan, and only meant he had to deal with the horrifying reality of his mother’s death.

  To make matters worse, he was now in the hands of his sworn enemy.

  He did not know then that Nikolay was actually a friend.

  “Finally back from the dead, I see,” Nikolay stated in a low gravelly voice when Rytsar opened his eyes. The older gentleman was sitting across from him, seated in a large leather chair.

  Rytsar bolted straight up to stand in a defensive pose, the sudden movement causing an angry pounding in his head and chest.

  “You are a bull when you lose your mind, Anton. It took eight of my men to finally take you down, and that was after you incapacitated five of them.”

  “Did I kill him?”

  “Who? Your father?”

  Rytsar said nothing, glaring at the man.

  “Thankfully not, because I would not have been able to save you if you had. My grandsons are very possessive of your father for some unexplainable reason.”

  Rytsar snarled, knowing they were only using Vladimir as a pawn.

  “Unfortunately,” Nikolay continued, “my men paid the price protecting him from you.”

  “Why would you allow them to protect such a worthless coward as Vladimir Durov?” Rytsar spat.

  Nikolay pressed his fingers together thoughtfully. “My grandsons have an unusual attachment to him that I do not care for, but after they publicly announced that he was under the protection of the Koslovs, I unwillingly became duty-bound to see he remains unharmed. To allow him to die would be a mark against our family. I cannot allow that as Pakhan.”

  “You should have let me kill him then! It would have been a win/win for the Koslov organization. You would have been rid of my worthless father and myself, with no one holding you responsible since his death was at the hands of his own son.”

  “I did not want to see you die.”

  Rytsar was surprised by his answer and instantly became suspicious. “Why? I am nothing to you.”

  Nikolay smiled amiably. “Did your grandfather ever speak of me?”

  “On occasion. He said he respected you despite your connection to the bratva.”

  “He and I always had a mutual respect for each other, yes. What I admired in him, I see in you. It is the reason I ordered a stay of execution and had them bring you to my chambers.”

  “What? I am to become your prisoner waiting for my own death?”

  Nikolay laughed, standing up. He was a giant of a man, towering over Rytsar. “No, Anton. You are not a prisoner here. You can leave right now if you wish. However, my grandsons want you dead and there will come a time when I will not be able to prevent it.”

  “Because?” Rytsar demanded.

  Nikolay looked away and said in a resigned voice, “I will pass on to the other side and whether I want it or not, they will become the new ruling power.”

  “Those two are worthless. Unworthy of the Koslov name.”

  “I agree.”

  Rytsar’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you say that? They are your kin.”

  “It’s no different than you and your father. We do not choose our bloodline. Sometimes nature makes a mistake—in my case, two.”

  Rytsar snorted.

  “Your grandfather found himself in the same predicament I find myself in now. But unlike me, who has no one else to choose from, he was able to pass over his son when it came time to grant his inheritance.”

  Rytsar frowned, growling in disgust. “This is nonsense! I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  “When your grandfather gave you his ring, he passed on everything he had to you.”

  “Hah! And why was I not made aware of this?” Rytsar scoffed sarcastically.

  “Being a highly intelligent individual, your grandfather always had a method to his madness. Although your father knows exactly what that ring on your finger means, few others do. I suspect your grandfather wanted you to live out your youth unencumbered by the responsibility such wealth would bring.”

  Rytsar laughed ruefully. “Is that the reason you spared me? You want his money?”

  “I have no interest in your inheritance,” Nikolay replied, sounding insulted.

  “I find it very odd that I was not made aware of this.”

  “You’ve been living off a portion of that inheritance since your grandfather died. Had you never questioned the source?”

  “Naturally, I assumed it was funded by the inheritance but I was told the allowance came directly from my father.”

  “Sneaky ublyudok,” Nikolay muttered under his breath.

  “So are you trying to claim that all this time I have been rich but didn’t know it?” Rytsar said with a dismissive laugh, certain he was being played but not comprehending why.

  Nikolay answered in all seriousness, “There must be an age clause set in his will.”


  “The full inheritance will not be yours until a stipulated age. An age your grandfather deemed you would be old enough to properly control the power behind such wealth.”

  Rytsar narrowed his eyes. “If that is true, why would my father lead me to believe the inheritance had been passed down to him instead?”

  “Such blatant deceit speaks to his hidden motive,” Nikolay said in disgust. “I have long suspected Vladimir was up to no good.”

  “What are you saying?” Rytsar demanded.

  “I firmly believe Vladimir hoped you would instigate your own demise. It’s the only way the inheritance could end up in his hands.”

  The hairs stood up on the back of Rytsar’s neck. “What exactly are you implying?”

  “Your grandfather’s inheritance would automatically revert to his only son should you commit suicide. If he could keep you ignorant of your wealth, it would give him significant leverage to begin stripping away your will to live.”

  A terrible thought flashed through Rytsar’s mind as he contemplated what Nikolay was saying.

  His grandfather had given him the ring a few months before he’d started courting Tatianna…

  “It’s not possible,” Rytsar stated. The idea of it was too horrendous to voice aloud. He had held deep anger and resentment toward Titov for bringing the deadly taint of the bratva into Tatianna’s life. But what if her kidnapping hadn’t been Titov’s fault?

  Rytsar remembered well the day Titov came banging on his door, shouting that Tatianna was missing. They’d scoured Moscow until they found Yuri, the boy who had sold her off to protect his own life because of an unpaid gambling debt. They’d beaten the sniveling coward until he confessed his guilt and told them where she had been taken.

  Rytsar had been only minutes away from rescuing her from the horrors that lay ahead, when she disappeared without a trace and the hunt to save her began.

  He’d never seen that worm again or he would have killed the man with his bare hands for destroying Tatianna. At the time, Rytsar assumed he’d simply gone into hiding, knowing his life was forfeit if Rytsar ever came across him.

  But what if… Rytsar thought to himself.

  What if his father had the boy killed to eliminate evidence he was behind the kidnapping? If causing his son to commit suicide had been Vladimir’s intent, he had come dangerously close to succeeding.

  Tatianna had died by her own hands—her sweet soul broken after what she’d endured all those months—and Rytsar had seriously considered following her.

  It was only his mother’s suggestion that he leave for America that saved Rytsar’s life back then. Leaving behind the memories and pain associated with Tatianna helped him refocus and start on a new path—a path that included his blood brother, Thane Davis.

  Rytsar suddenly felt ice course through his veins as a new realization hit him.


  His mother had died only a few days after his return to Russia.

  Rytsar was unable to stop the tears that welled in his ey
es as he considered the terrible possibility.

  “What is it?” Nikolay asked.

  Rytsar shook his head. Surely his father could not be so cold-blooded as to kill his own wife, whom he was estranged from, but still loved fiercely.

  “You should have let me kill him,” Rytsar growled angrily.

  “You already know why I could not.”

  Rytsar glared at Nikolay. “I am not grateful to be alive today. I owe you nothing but my rage at the injustice your interference has caused.”

  Raising an eyebrow, Nikolay replied, “I do not expect your gratitude.”

  “Then why am I here? What do you want from me?” Rytsar challenged.

  “Your father is unworthy of the power your grandfather’s inheritance will give him. I prefer it goes to the man it was meant for.”

  “Why would you care?”

  “Like I said, your grandfather and I respected each other. My profound respect for him extends to you.”

  “Whether you like it or not, my father will die,” Rytsar declared, his voice cold with rage.

  Nikolay inclined his head. “As long as it’s of natural causes, I have no issues.”

  Rytsar understood then that Nikolay was asking him to kill Vladimir quietly. “I will see to it that Vladimir Durov dies a slow, painful, and humiliating death—by natural causes, of course.”


  Nikolay snapped his fingers and one of his men came into the room.

  “Rytsar Durov must be leaving. See to it that he gets to his destination safely.”

  “Da, Pakhan.”

  Rytsar had to hold in his mounting rage as he was escorted out amid the hostile stares of the two Koslov brothers. Revenge was his only focus now. Instead of being driven to his home, Rytsar insisted that he be dropped off at Titov’s apartment.

  When Titov opened the door and saw who it was, he frowned. “I have nothing to say and seeing you only brings pain to me. Go away, Rytsar.”

  “I was wrong.”

  Titov was visibly taken aback by the bold statement and stared at him in silence.

  “I was wrong to blame you for Tatianna.”

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