Semyonov Bratva

There was right, there was wrong, and then there was the in-between.

The place where normal people reside, understanding that there are two sides to every coin. People that do bad things for good reasons. People that do bad things for bad reasons.

First, I knew that Shasha Semyonov was a bad man. One that did bad things for bad reasons. That didn’t mean that I was rational when it came to him.

He was toxic to my health, yet I wanted him anyway.

They say the first step to healing is admitting when you have a problem.

My problem happened to be six feet two inches tall, two hundred and twenty pounds, and bearded to perfection.

Oh, and he was also the scariest guy I knew.

Meanwhile, I was the laughingstock of the city.

The woman who was cheated on by her boyfriend with her best friend, and it was captured live while a band played in the background, perfectly accenting the humiliating video.

There was no way that Shasha Semyonov would notice me.

Right?

Wrong.

I’d definitely been noticed.