by Jenika Snow
All of the men were at the table, their glasses full. The conversation became serious as they discussed the reason Sergei, and half of the men at this table, had come from Russia to America.
There was business to be done, and traitors to be flushed out within the organization.
“We found a traitor in the Bratva. They’ve been stealing product and selling it on their own.”
“Who?” Sergei asked.
“Three foot soldiers,” Yvgeny said.
“And you needed us to come all the way to America to finish the job?” Sergei lifted a brow.
Yvgeny leaned forward, and all the other men focused on the two of them.
“You were specifically called here by Boris, you know that,” Yvgeny said, his expression hard, unyielding.
Yeah, Sergei knew the head of the America operation had called him, and he knew why, even if it had never been specifically said.
“You’re the best in these situations,” Maksim said.
“Boris wants this taken care of by you specifically,” Pasha replied.
Sergei leaned back in the seat. Although they could have easily said this in a more secured area, without having waitresses and others around, Yvgeny owned this club, his staff didn’t speak Russian, and there was surveillance at every turn.
“And there’s also another reason,” Yvgeny said, and that piqued Sergei’s interest.
“Oh?”
“One of the foot soldiers … you know him.”
Now that did have Sergei’s interest rising.
“I’d know if I was aware of a traitor.” He noticed several of them men glancing at each other.
“One of them is Pavel.”
Sergei felt his entire body tighten. He curled his hands into fists and looked among all the men at the table.
Pavel, a man he’d known since he was a teenager, one that had grown up in poverty, violence, and had wanted to rise in the ranks of the Bratva. He’d considered Pavel a friend back in the day, but once Pavel had come to America a decade ago they’d lost contact, had others responsibilities within the organization.
“Pavel’s had issues always,” one of the men said, and there was a murmur of agreement.
Yes, he had. With drugs being a hard factor in many of their lives when they were younger, surrounding them, trying to control them, it was only the strongest that could resist the lure. Sergei had been one of those that hadn’t taken the temptation of escaping where his life was headed. This was his reality. It always had been, and always would be.
Pavel had been weak.
“I’ve been called out to kill a man I once saw as a friend,” Sergei said without forming it as a question.
Yvgeny nodded. “Unless you want someone else to do it, which I’m sure you know won’t nearly be as gracious.”
No, it wouldn’t.
“You’re respected in the Bratva, and because of your loyalty Boris is giving you the opportunity to take out the traitor, and a man you once called a friend.”
Sergei looked down at the table. He felt no remorse over what had to be done. Pavel might have been a friend at one time, but the Bratva came first. The Bratva was in his blood, and he’d kill for it without a second thought.
“Tell me where he is and it’s done.”
****
It was late, Zoey was tired, and as much as the exhaustion settled into her, she was thankful for the reprieve of her thoughts and worries. Yvgeny and the other men had stayed at the table for long hours, speaking to each other in Russian, their expressions fierce at times.
She tried to push anything that had to do with Sergei out of her mind, but for whatever reason that was easier said than done. That man had controlled her thoughts and he didn’t even know it. Hell, she didn’t even know why she felt that way toward him. She knew nothing about him aside from the feeling of danger that came from him. But even with all that she felt no fear, not toward him or Yvgeny.
She finished cleaning the tables, counted out the tips, and breathed out when she could finally call it a night.
“Night,” she called out to the other two people working the VIP room, and left out the employee exit. She searched the main floor for one of the guys to walk her out to her car, but the floor was dead, and she didn’t see any bouncers.
You’re paranoid. You need to start standing on your own feet and stop worrying about someone being there to help you.
Heading out the back hallway and exiting into the alleyway behind the club, she tightened her hand on the strap of her bag.
The sound of her shoes hitting the pavement seemed overly loud, and although there was ample lighting even in the alley of the club, it still had a creepy factor to it, although that might very well be her nerves and the fact she was tense in general.
Reaching into her bag, she fished around for her keys. She smelled the trash from the dumpster she passed, heard the people on the other side of the wall around the corner, and picked up her pace. Just as she rounded the corner, a dark shadow had her pace slowing and her heart jackhammering in her chest.
“You should have had one of Yvgeny’s men walk you out,” the deep, accented voice said.
As strange as it was she felt herself ease at the sound of Sergei’s voice. She rounded the corner and saw him standing there, his hands in the front of his suit pants pockets, his focus on her. The shadows played along his face, concealing half of it, and making him seem even more dangerous than normal.
“I couldn’t find anyone,” she answered.
He turned and faced her, his side still on the wall as he rested against it.
“It’s not safe to be out alone, especially at a nightclub.”
Yeah, she knew that, but what other options did she have? “It’s too late to worry about the ‘what ifs’.” Zoey swallowed, feeling the intensity in Sergei’s expression.
“May I walk you to your car?” he asked, and she was actually surprised seeing as he didn’t strike her as the gentlemanly type.
“Okay.”
He pushed away from the wall and went to stand beside her. He had his suit jacket on now, and when he pulled his hands out of his pocket the side of the lapel moved out of the way slightly. She saw the gun holster that snaked around his shoulder before she saw the silver gun that was attached to it.
Adjusting her purse strap, which she did more because she was nervous than anything else, Zoey breathed in deeply and gazed up at him when he stopped right in front of her.
“You don’t even know me,” she found herself saying softly. The sound of the people around the corner was loud. They were leaving, their drunken stupors making them obnoxious.
The feeling of her heart beating wildly in her chest made her feel like she was on the edge of a cliff.
“Where’s your car?” he asked, his face hard, almost cold in appearance, although she could imagine he was always like this.
Clearing her throat, she pointed over to the staff parking. “Over here.” She started walking toward the vehicle, very aware of how close Sergei was to her. Did he know about her situation? Had Yvgeny told him anything? It would make sense seeing as Sergei had taken this sudden interest in her.
They stopped at the car Yvgeny was lending her, and she held her keys in her grasp tightly. “Thank you,” she said, but was looking at the ground, feeling nervous around this big man. And then she felt his finger under her chin as he tilted her head back so she could look at him. His touch shouldn’t have felt so good. It was barely a brush of his finger on her skin, but her heart beat faster, her throat tightened, and she had this tingling sensation move through her veins.
Am I losing my mind?
He started running his finger over her jawline, and she was surprised at the concentration he seemed to have on the act he did. It felt like an eternity since she’d felt any kind of gentleness from a man. Was she so desperate for it that upon meeting the first guy to show her any interest she was falling into this “trap”? She should have been smarter than this. Zoey
was trying to get her life back on track, and had no time for personal matters like this. Being with anyone without knowing what was going on with Rick was a huge mistake, yet here she was … enjoying this.
His finger on her skin was soft, barely a brush. Humiliation and fear of her own desires slammed into her, and she took a step back. “I’m sorry,” she found herself saying, although she didn’t know why she was apologizing.
Before she said anything else to embarrass herself, or before she couldn’t stop herself from this going further, she smiled at him. But she knew it was tight and probably didn’t reach her eyes. Zoey got in her car, cranked the engine, and giving Sergei one more look because she felt awful leaving like this, she lifted her hand in a wave. The corner of his mouth lifted, and she figured that was probably as close to a smile as she’d get.
Then she left, because she couldn’t think straight right now, and falling into bed and forgetting about what she wanted personally, and what she needed to do in reality, were waging war inside of her.
****
Sergei watched Zoey’s car turn out of the parking lot and disappear down the street. He reached into his pocket and grabbed a cigar. After cutting the end and putting the cigar between his lips, he lit the end and puffed on it. He watched the strip of road where her car disappeared to, even though he could no longer see her. Sergei sensed someone coming up behind him, and it was Yvgeny’s voice that sounded in the darkness.
“You’re not going to let this go,” he said without forming it as a question. Yvgeny stepped up beside him, and Sergei glanced at the other man.
“No, I’m not going to let this go.” He wanted her, but for some reason, it wasn’t just about having her under him. He couldn’t lie and say he didn’t want her body, but that wasn’t all Sergei wanted. Maybe it was because he despised men that hurt women? Maybe he wanted Zoey so much because when he looked in her eyes he could see how distant she was in her life. Whatever it was, it had Sergei more determined to have her and keep her close.
“The motherfucker that hurt her needs to be found, because he’s going to pay for what he did.”
Yvgeny grunted in agreement.
“And I’m not going to walk away from her,” Sergei said after he let the cigar smoke filter out of his mouth.
“Be careful with her,” was all Yvgeny said.
Sergei may be merciless to his enemies, cold to the bone when it came to it, but he knew how to treat a woman right, to show her she was in good hands. He wanted Zoey, and he’d have her. He’d show her that not all men laid their hands on a woman. He’d show her that even if he was a killer, he could treat her like his Queen.
Chapter Six
Zoey sat across from Alexa at her kitchen table. They weren’t speaking at the moment as Alexa flipped through a magazine, but when they both had the same days off they got together. Zoey knew it was because Alexa was so worried about her, because before all this went down, even though they spoke regularly, they didn’t really see each other.
Zoey looked down at the mug, stared at the tea swirling around, and felt the steam from the hot liquid move along her face. “Can I ask you something?” Zoey said, and looked up at Alexa.
“Sure,” her sister said, but was still looking down at the magazine.
Zoey was silent for a second as she thought about how to actually say this. It wasn’t her business, but her curiosity, and the fact Sergei had been pretty attentive to her last night, had her wanting to know things. Zoey must have been silent for too long, because Alexa lifted her gaze from the magazine and looked her in the eyes.
“What’s up?”
Zoey licked her lips, and figured she might as well just spit it out. “What does Yvgeny really do?”
Alexa didn’t speak for a second, but she finally leaned back in her chair and turned her head to look out the window. “He runs the club,” Alexa said.
“You know what I mean.”
Alexa turned and faced Zoey again. “It seems like you might already have a clue on that.”
Zoey nodded slowly. “The mafia?” she whispered.
Alexa didn’t move or even show expression, but then she smiled. “You say it like it’s a dirty little secret.”
“Isn’t it? I mean I would think it would be.”
Alexa smiled again. “Not to the Bratva.”
“Bratva?”
“Russian mafia, Zoey.”
They didn’t speak for long seconds.
“How do you know all this? It seems like a sensitive subject Yvgeny wouldn’t just be throwing around.”
Alexa shook her head. “He doesn’t, but people know who he is and what he does.”
“How did you find out?” she asked Alexa. She noticed the way her sister’s cheeks turned pink after she asked the question. “You have a relationship with him?”
Alexa shook her head. “I don’t think sleeping with him once constitutes a relationship. But he trusts me.”
Zoey could see the emotion on Alexa’s face then. Her sister cared about Yvgeny, but maybe he didn’t feel the same way. She didn’t say that though.
“Do you think Yvgeny would tell anyone about my situation, like anyone he worked with, in the mafia?” It sounded so weird saying that out loud.
“Yvgeny is a very private person. He knows the importance of keeping things to himself.” Alex looked Zoey in the eyes. “But I think if it meant keeping a woman safe he might tell someone, you know, for extra protection, and to be on the lookout.” Alexa knitted her brows. “Why are you asking all of this? Did something happen last night?” Alexa seemed on alert right away.
Zoey looked down at her tea again. “One of the men he was with in the VIP room seemed to take an interest in me.” She looked at her sister again. “And I liked it, Alexa, liked the way he looked at me, and talked to me.”
Yeah, she’d just said that out loud.
“If he bothered you I’d tell Yvgeny. He wouldn’t stand for that.”
Zoey shook her head. “He wasn’t bothering me. He actually made me feel nice. He walked me to my car after my shift ended, too.”
Alexa didn’t speak for long seconds, but then she exhaled. “Just be careful. This has nothing to do with what went on with Rick, but everything to do with the fact these men are dangerous.”
“And you were with Yvgeny.” Zoey didn’t say it condescending or even accusingly.
“Yeah, and that was my fault, because now I want a man that probably only sees me as that one time kind of thing.”
In only the three months she’d known Yvgeny, he didn’t seem like that type of man, but what did she really know about anyone?
“Maybe you should tell him how you feel?”
Alexa was shaking her head before Zoey even finished speaking. “No. It’s better that I just act like it never happened. I work for him, and showing my feelings isn’t really the route I want to go.”
Zoey didn’t say anything in response, because she didn’t know how to make Alexa feel better about this. She also had no experience in a matter like this either.
“I just need to focus on what’s going on now. But what I felt last night was kind of crazy.”
Alexa gave her this empathetic look. “You’ve been through hell and back, Zoey. It’s only natural for you to feel good when you’re shown affection.” Alexa’s expression changed to serious. “But please be careful. These men are dangerous. Even if I know for a fact they’d never hurt a woman because that’s one of the things they are against, they are still Bratva.”
Zoey looked at her mug and wrapped her hands around it. “There isn’t any need for worry. My life is crazy enough with adding anything else to the mix.”
But even after saying it she couldn’t deny Sergei was on her mind.
****
The following night
It had been easy to find Pavel. He’d let his drug abuse rule him, and because of that he had no judgment, had no common sense or rationalization on who or what he was fucking with. He’d aban
doned all hope of rectifying anything, but then again the Bratva didn’t give second chances. Once Pavel had fucked up, that had been it … he’d been dead to the brotherhood.
“He’s already there and ready?” Sergei said to the driver.
“Yes, sir.”
After another ten minutes they finally reached the meat processing plant owned by the American based Bratva. It was on the outskirts of town, made a lot of revenue for the brotherhood, but was also used to clean the money they brought in from their less than legal endeavors.
Sergei climbed out of the car and headed into the back of the building. There were already men there, guns held in their hands, their focus taking in the perimeter.
“Take me to him,” Sergei said to one of the men.
“He’s this way.”
They moved through the warehouse, the scent of meat and chemicals strong in the air.
“What about the others that worked with him?”
“They’ve been taken care of, sir.”
Sergei nodded in approval.
The sound of their shoes hitting the asphalt echoed off the high ceiling.
They moved down a long corridor once out of the main processing room. Once at the end of the corridor they stopped at another door that would lead them downstairs. They descended the stairs, several men behind Sergei, the only sounds of their footsteps. They finally entered the last corridor and pushed open the door at the end of the hallway. Sitting in a chair in the center of the room with rope securing his hands behind his back and around his feet was a man he’d known for years.
The door shut behind them, sealing Sergei and Pavel, as well as three other men with guns, in the room. The light that hung in the center of the room, right above Pavel’s head, was barren of a shade, and cast a harsh glow in the confined room.
Serge moved closer to Pavel and looked down at him when they were only feet apart. Pavel had a bloody nose and a split lip, probably from resisting when they’d brought him in.
“You fucked up, Pavel,” Sergei said.
Pavel didn’t respond, just stared at Sergei. His eyes were bloodshot, but Sergei knew it was probably because he was high, not from anything else.
