Owned by the Mob

by Raven Rivers

  “Did you, now?” she smirked.

  Rolling him over, she landed on top and gave him a good punch in the face. Tony rubbed his arm across his nose and looked at the tiny smear of blood. “Hey, isn’t this where we started?”

  Sitting on his chest, Sharon replied smugly, “I have to keep you humble.”

  Shoving her playfully back, Tony sat up and wrapped his arms around one leg. “You’re a vicious little bitch when you want to be.”

  “Weren’t you the one who taught me to give no quarter?”

  “Yeah, well, aren’t doctors supposed to be all caring and compassionate and shit?”

  Holding out one glove for Marty to unlace, Sharon sighed, “I think dad’s getting me confused with the other two doctors in the house. Both of them are at the top of their game, while I’m getting covered in blood and vomit all night in the ER. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that doesn’t sound all that high status to me.”

  Tony tossed her a lopsided smile. “Are you really asking a low-ranking mob boss who never went to college about status? ‘Cause, if so, that doesn’t sound too smart to me.”

  “Thugs gotta eat though, right?” she laughed. “How about we hit a steakhouse? You can even bring that pretty little stripper you’ve been hiding from mom and dad.”

  Coming to his feet, Tony immediately corrected her. “Ex-stripper, thank you very much, and I’m getting around to introducing her.”

  “Charlene’s a classy lady. I actually like her. Why don’t you invite her out to eat with us?”

  Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, the sweaty man jerked her in for a kiss on the forehead. “I love you, sis. You were always my favorite.”

  Elbowing him back slightly, she wasn’t buying that for a hot minute. “Funny you say that. Cassie told me you call her your favorite sister behind my back.”

  “No way! Bitch is lying her pretty little ass off.”

  “Whatever,” Sharon chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Let’s hit the shower and get some grub.”

  “I’ll beat you out.”

  “Not with all the man junk you have to wash.” Speeding to the shower, Sharon tossed off her clothing along the way. Why in the hell she was so competitive with her stupid brother, she’d never know.

  Chapter 5

  An Owned Man

  Alek

  Alek pulled his tired bones out of bed one more time. Sitting on the edge, he gave his body time to wake up a piece at a time. All the old aches and pains of his profession came back to visit. Wrapping up the situation with The Avoy had left him exhausted, and no sooner had he caught a good night sleep than it was fight night. Working six days a week was mentally and physically exhausting. He just needed to last a few years, then he’d have enough saved up to buy his way out. Right now, years seemed like a terribly long time.

  Glancing across the room at the large mirror hanging over his dresser, Alek had to admit the man staring back at him looked like he’d been worked over with a pair of brass knuckles. Bringing up his hand to feel the marks he could see, pain flared underneath the bruises and lacerations on his face as he touched them.

  His head was thumping and his muscles were stiff. Lifting his shirt, he saw extensive bruising down the right side of his body. He quickly snatched up the aspirin and glass of water he’d put on his bedside table the night before. He was self-medicating just the way the sports doctor had instructed after giving him the once-over following the fight last night. Over the years he’d learned in advance to plan for the morning after a fight. He definitely didn’t need a doctor to tell him shit like that.

  Fighting had become a way of life and was one of his few natural talents. Having offered himself to a Russian mob family to settle his younger brother’s mistake almost fifteen years ago, he was now their indentured man. Chensnokov had taken him in, making him feel more family than servant, but there was no getting around the fact that he was in his service until the debt was paid in full. Even though the older man had relocated to New York, it didn’t modify the terms of his service. Alek relocated as well and spent the last fifteen years slowly working off the debt by acting as an enforcer, providing private security to the older man, and even fighting in underground kickboxing tournaments. He had slowly watched his magnificent body fall apart. Calculating how much he could earn per month, his best estimate was he’d be free in around five years.

  Grabbing a shower he realized his face looked worse up close. He could usually keep his opponent off his face but last night he had fought a large, ugly German who seemed intent on making him as ugly as he was. He preferred wearing dress pants and button-up a shirt on his days off, and his body ached as he slowly got dressed. Did clothes make the man? Alek wasn’t sure, but dressing nicely made him feel like a man of worth in the world.

  Heading to his favorite coffee shop, he enjoyed the crisp morning air and the sun beaming down on his face. True to form, the city was abuzz with people coming and going, dogs barking, and cabbies yelling. It was a wonderful day to be alive.

  The coffee shop offered free high-speed Wi-Fi and he liked using his tablet to Skype with his family. It was nice not to have to worry about being rushed or interrupted. Placing his order, he waited while they made his drink. Sliding into a comfortable seat, he signed on and waited for his mother to answer.

  She was delighted to see him, as always, and immediately asked what happened to his face. He could tell that the answer hit her almost as soon as the words left her lips.

  He assured her quietly, “It looks much worse than it is. Kickboxing is a favored sport among the Americans. I’ll keep boxing as long as I can. The money is good and it helps keep me fit.

  She nodded, though it was clear the gentle-spirited woman was fighting back tears. “I am sorry. I know you are doing what you must to pay off your contract.”

  “We all make mistakes, mama. I am happy to do this favor for my brother. I am strong. My brother would not have lasted in this world. Better that he stays in Russia, attends university, and takes good care of you. Really, it is not as bad as one would imagine. Although the work is dangerous, the family treats me extremely well… like one of their own. They have even secured American citizenship for me. I cannot pretend this unfortunate situation has not come with some built-in rewards.” He watched her relax a little at his assurances.

  She proceeded to talk about everything going on in his hometown. Alek smiled at how nothing seemed to ever change there. He wondered if he would even choose to move back there once his contract was over. He liked living in America and, after paying off his contract, he dreamed of convincing his mother to stay with him for a while. Perhaps she would grow a liking for the states and decide to relocate as well. If nothing else, this situation had turned into a man with options trying to figure out how he wanted to live the remainder of his life.

  Once his contract was paid, he suspected the family would just keep him on in much the same capacity as a paid employee. Alek didn’t really like his job very much, but the money was good and the family thought of him as one of their own.

  Finishing off his delicious but outrageously priced coffee, he debated going to the spa for a nice massage. That always made his aching muscles feel better. Better yet, Timur owned the place and got a cut of the business earnings. Not only was he never charged for services there, but the women were friendly and liked working with him. They probably saw him as a part owner even though that was far from the truth. Americans often had a difficult time understanding Russian business practices. The spa was part of Timur’s ever-expanding number of legitimate enterprises; business ventures that Alek was vested in protecting and nurturing.

  Alek headed out of the coffee shop and smiled as a small child on a pink bicycle almost ran him down. She glanced back at him and mumbled an apology as she crossed the next intersection. He watched in horror as a car swerved into the back of a delivery truck to avoid hitting her. Rushing over to the vehicle, Alek jerked the door open.

  The beautiful woman i
nside had some facial injuries from the airbag deploying. Pulling out his phone, he called for an ambulance and cut the dispatcher off in favor of helping the disoriented woman.

  “W-what happened? Where am I?”

  “Stay still. You were in an automobile accident,” he told her with his thick Russian accent.

  Her trembling hand came out to touch his face. “I’m sorry you got injured, too. Was the accident my fault?”

  Covering her hand with his, he gazed into her beautiful brown eyes. He wasn’t surprised that she was confused after being hit in the head by the deploying airbag. “You saved a little girl’s life. She rode her bike into your path but you moved out of her way. Who could fault you for that?”

  Laying her head back, her eyes drifted shut. “I’m still sorry I hurt you.”

  Knowing that sleep was not advisable for someone with a probable concussion, he ran his hand over the side of her face. “No sleeping, lady. You have to stay awake.”

  Her head lulled to the side and her eyes opened. “I’m trying. It’s strange to be on this side of things.”

  “What side of things?”

  “I’m a doctor… normally the one helping an injured person.”

  “I see how this might strange for you.”

  Seeing her eyes drift closed again, he grabbed her hand and gave it a little squeeze. “Open those pretty brown eyes this instant.”

  “That was really cute, how you got stern.”

  “That was not stern. It was desperate. You must not fall asleep, for you know that is not good if you turn out to have a head injury.”

  “That’s my line,” she groaned. “Talk to me, please.”

  Holding her tiny brown hand in his, Alek smoothed his thumb over her soft skin. “My name is Alek. What is your name, beautiful?”

  Her lips quirked up slightly. “Now’s not the time to be smooth. My name’s Sharon.” Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, she gritted her teeth together.

  “You are being very brave.”

  “That tends to happen when I’ve got no other choice.”

  “Just talk to me until the ambulance gets here.”

  “About… about what?” she asked, her voice fading.

  Her eyes drifted shut again. Leaning forward Alek gently ran two fingers over her delicate skin. She opened her eyes again.

  “Let us exchange secrets,” he suggested. “Tell me something about yourself that you’ve never told anyone, and I’ll do the same.”

  Glancing around, Sharon saw faces. They were blurry, but it looked like a couple of good Samaritans were moving everyone back to make room for the ambulance.

  “I was kidnapped once and… the man protecting… me was killed,” she breathed, fighting to stay conscious. “I’ve never… I’ve never forgotten how horrible it felt to get pulled into that van.” Squeezing her eyes closed, tears began to gather at the corners of her eyes.

  In an effort to get her to remain alert without bullying her, Alek whispered, “I’m indentured. Do you know what that means, Miss Sharon?”

  Her eyes popped open. “You’re in some sort of bondage?”

  Tilting his head slightly, he nodded. “I sold myself to pay off my brother’s debt. I’ve got about five years left before I’m a free man.”

  “Jesus… I didn’t think that kind of thing happened anymore.”

  “It is true. I had to sign a paper to make it legal where I come from. My bondholder is a personal friend and holds me in much esteem. I am both trusted and respected, so don’t think badly of my friend. I love him like a father.”

  Swallowing hard, she fought back her tears. “If you say so, then I’m sure it must be true.”

  Putting one finger to his lips, Alek reminded her, “These are secrets we have exchanged, so you must keep my confidences, as I will yours.”

  They both sat looking at each other as the sound of sirens grew louder.

  “It is unfortunate that you were hurt, but I’m glad that you saved the little one’s life. Fortune has smiled upon me, to have these few precious moments with you, Miss Sharon.”

  Smiling warmly at him, she bit her bottom lip for a brief moment as if reflecting on their chance encounter. “I’m glad I met you, too. I love the way you speak. And that accent. What did you say your name was?”

  “Alek,” he smiled back.

  On a whim, he pulled out a pen and scribbled his phone number on the back of her lower arm. If the paramedics or emergency room doctors didn’t wash it off, he might receive a call from the beautiful doctor.

  All too quickly he found himself being elbowed out of the way by emergency medical personnel. He watched as they looked her over, then removed her from her luxury SUV. They gave her an injection of some sort and connected an IV before putting her into the back of their vehicle. And that, as they say, was that.

  Chapter 6

  Recovery

  Sharon

  Being wheeled into the nearest emergency room didn’t put her at Mercy Medical’s doorstep. “Thank God for small favors,” she thought. Though her trauma team was phenomenal, Sharon didn’t know how she would feel about her co-workers cutting her clothing off and dealing with her injuries. Still, St. Agnes was one of the better hospitals in the area and she was grateful for the care she got.

  The moment she was wheeled into a private room, her family filled the doorway. Her mother rushed to her side and began adjusting her bed and pillows.

  “How are you feeling, dear?”

  Sharon tried to sit up. “I’ve felt better. What’s the verdict?”

  Her mother pulled up the warmed blanket and sat on the side of her bed. The older woman’s black hair was pulled back into a neat twist at the nape of her neck. Her expressive brown eyes looked worried. “You have a fractured zygomatic as well as a fractured rib. The concussion was mild and you may have some memory impairment because of it.”

  “If that’s the case, why am I not skipping out of here with a lollipop already?”

  “You know how particular physicians are, especially when treating their peers. Dr. Karan wants to keep you twenty-four hours for observation.”

  “I’m not supposed to sleep.”

  “What?”

  Frowning, Sharon couldn’t quite remember what made her say that. “Sorry, I’m still confused from the accident.”

  “Once you were checked over, you were allowed to rest. They performed both a CT and an MRI, so we’re certain there was no brain damage.”

  Charles stepped in. “No more talk about brain damage. Our little girl is just fine.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled down at Sharon.

  Her mother laid her hand over his. “Always believing in the power of positive thinking, aren’t you, babe?”

  “It takes exactly as much time to worry as it does to plan an effective exit strategy,” he returned.

  Everyone laughed at his wry joke, leaving him pleased with himself. Her parents were a broken record, always repeating the same things when they were stressed.

  “I’m going to get a good night’s sleep. Why don’t you all go home and try to get some rest? I’ll bet you’ve been here for hours.”

  “We wouldn’t want to be anywhere other than with you in your time of need.”

  “Well, it’s all over but the sleeping, so be gone with you.”

  Her mother frowned. Sharon knew she’d been a little too injured to be so giddy.

  Tony’s low voice broke into the conversation. “I think they’re putting something fun in her meds. I’ll sit with her until she’s asleep.”

  His father shot him a withering look. “Do try to refrain from punching her this time.”

  Sharon had already complained to her mother about the visit her step-father had paid to the gym. Her mother shot him an annoyed look. “Have you lost your mind? That girl has a right to engage in any sport she likes, including boxing. We talked about this.”

  Looking down innocently at his strong-willed wife, Charles stated flatly, “You talked. I l
istened. There was no agreement.”

  “How about I have my attorney contact your attorney and we can hammer out a ‘getting your head screwed on straight’ clause for our prenup?”

  Sharon was flabbergasted. They had a prenup? How in the hell could she not have known that little family secret?

  “Don’t remind me of that horrible document. It’s the worst deal I ever made,” her step-father groaned.

  Grinning, her mother came to her feet and pulled him close. “Are you sure about that? It got you me and two lovely daughters.”

  Shoving his hands in his pockets, he allowed her to pull him down for a kiss. When it was over, he twisted himself around, offering her his arm. “Come, my queen. Let’s go home, lounge in the pool, and I’ll tell you all the clauses I hate in our prenup.”

  “Are you going to admit that I’m the better negotiator?”

  Barely smiling, he muttered, “I’ll admit that I wanted you more than you wanted me, and that gave you a decided advantage.”

  “You know that’s not true.”

  Before she could pull him down for another kiss, Tony interrupted with, “It’s like we’re not even here.”

  “Oh, leave them alone,” Sharon teased. “They don’t have many years left for romance. Besides, I think it’s kind of cute.”

  Her mother shot her an amused look over her shoulder, but her step-father complained, “Go ahead and stay, Tony. The two of you deserve each other’s company.”

  Sharon laughed but abruptly stopped when she felt a sharp pain her ribs. “Stop cracking jokes. It’s too painful to laugh.”

  After her folks had said their goodbyes repeatedly and given her kisses on the forehead, Tony finally managed to scoot them out of the room.

  Dropping down into the chair by her bed, he sighed, “Those two are like herding cats or something.”