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“My, you are spirited. It’s simple, really. You only have to look, Ruslan. It’s all you have to do, and yet you don’t even make an effort. You upset the order of things.”
I upset the order of things? I replay the last few months in my head, and every bit of my work was done normally. I’m very particular about how I manage business dealings, but there’s one thing that jumps out. I told off my stepfather in my family home. I told him exactly what I thought and didn’t regret doing it.
My father was the head of the Umarova family. In the Chechen Republic, our name is law. Our family has been there since the start of the region, so we’re well respected and feared. My father was murdered, and then everything changed. For a while, we weren’t as feared as we should’ve been. As the eldest of my family, it would’ve been my right to lead, but I wasn’t old enough.
My mother decided to remarry rather quickly out of fear for herself and her children being killed. It was just me, her, and my younger brother Lom at the time. Then she married my stepfather and had two more children later on. Marrying him kept her safe to some extent, but she named him a regent for the Umarova name, seeing as I was a child.
Now, I’m very much an adult, and my stepfather didn’t want to let go of the reigns. When I confronted him, I told him he had no power since he wasn’t an Umarova. I began doing things to take over my father’s business, and I gather he didn’t like it. But here’s the thing: he isn’t my father. He never had any right to lead, and he’s been in his position for too long.
“My stepfather is a fraud. A vile pig. If you mean to stand there and lecture me, don’t waste your breath,” I snarl at the older man, who raises both of his brows. He stares at me for a moment and then laughs.
“You are a stupid, idiotic child. Do you not know the lengths he will go to keep what he believes is his? Do you even think about the lengths he’s already gone to? Hmm?” As he finishes speaking, the door blows open, and the latches break off. The old man scrambles to find something to keep the door shut, and I know this is my opportunity.
I swing forward and then crash backward with all my body weight. The middle piece connecting my arms to the wood breaks, and my legs are unbound, so I rise to my feet. I yank my right hand as hard as I can, and it’s just enough to slip my hand out. I’d been working on the ropes all day, hoping everything would go according to plan.
I rush up to the old man, and he swings around with a shocked expression on his face. He reaches over to the counter, where I can assume the owners of this shack filet fish, and grabs a knife. He waves it around in the air and walks toward me. I jump back as he tries to cut me across my abdomen and push him back. He stumbles but catches himself and charges at me. I move to the right, not noticing a bottle on the ground. I lose my footing and start to fall backward.
The old man stabs me right as I’m in mid-air. He pulls the knife out of me once I hit the ground and then stabs me again. “You’re foolish to fight against me!” he screams in my face, and I refuse to go down without a fight. I reach up and grab the old man’s eyes, pressing inward as hard as I can. The old man begins to scream, and then I feel a prick against my neck.
Out of nowhere, everything gets fuzzy. Floaters fill my vision, and I glance to the left where the stinging sensation’s coming from. Sure enough, I spot a syringe hanging with the plunger fully depressed.
I then look down at my abdomen, and my blood is oozing out onto the floor around me. Fuck, what did I get myself into?
Is this how I’m going to die?
Chapter One
Amelia
The heavy rain from this summer storm crashes down on my windshield. I’ve just gotten home from work, but it’s raining too hard for me to get out of the vehicle right now. I might just sit in here and wait for the storm to pass. There’s a long way to walk on the path before I reach my apartment, and I’m not trying to get drenched.
Things don’t feel right at all. To say I’m nervous would be a massive understatement. Ruslan, my sort-of boyfriend, has been AWOL for over four weeks. He left me a note saying he had to fly back home to handle some business, so I expected him to maybe be gone for a week, possibly two. Only, he never came back to Atlanta. The note said he’d be gone for a few days, and he left me money to make sure I was taken care of while he was away.
Ruslan is very well off and comes from money, but the two of us didn’t meet under normal circumstances. I was a new hire at the notorious nightclub, Illusion. It’s centered in the middle of Atlanta and is owned by the Steele family, who are like royalty around here. I’m pretty much convinced they own the entire city.
When I was first hired at Illusion, there was a robbery the same day. Someone came into the club and stole a large sum of money from the owner. Apparently, the security cameras cut off around the same time my interview happened, making me look like I was the guilty party.
Ruslan was sent to persuade me to give the money back. There’s only one problem. How was I supposed to give back the money I didn’t take in the first place? I had to convince Ruslan I was innocent, which took some convincing. He assumed I was lying, and I’m sure many people in the same position lie about it. The only difference is that I wasn’t lying. After I convinced him I wasn’t a bold-faced liar, he said he’d stick out his neck for me. I didn’t understand what it meant, but Ruslan eventually told me he was taking sole responsibility for paying back my debt. There was a catch, though. I had to pay him back, doing whatever he wanted me to do.
I still had my job at Illusion on the weekends, but I also worked for Ruslan. But Ruslan’s work wasn’t like my work at Illusion. I wasn’t some skimpy-dressed bottle service girl for Ruslan. No, it was kinky, provocative, and downright illegal. It was borderline prostitution in a way, but it somehow became less about paying Ruslan back and more about following my heart.
There was so much going on when all of this started. My life was a certified shitshow, hands down. I was in a loveless relationship with a piece of shit guy named Carter. I won’t even call him a man because he wasn’t one. He couldn’t take any initiative, and he was nothing more than a scamming asshole. Deep in my gut, I think he was the person behind the money going missing at Illusion. Also, my identity was stolen over a year ago, and I’ve been dealing with hell from that. I wouldn’t be surprised if Carter was behind it all. I’m only going to be able to get confirmation if I find actual proof, so until then, it’s just my own speculation.
The rain finally starts to let up, so I sling my purse over my shoulder, take my keys out of the ignition, and make a run for it. I slam the car door too hard, but whatever. I guess it doesn’t really matter. Even though I’m running, I still get pretty wet. It’s no longer a torrential downpour, but the weather tends to change very fast around here.
I finally get under the safety of the porch, and I slide my keys around on the holder until I find the one for our apartment. I insert the key into the lock and turn the knob. It pops open freely, and I kick off my shoes as I enter. The one thing I hate about being a bottle girl is how I have to wear heels all the time. Some nights, my feet feel like they’re literally killing me when I get home.
I hang my purse on the coat hook and walk further into my place. My cousin, Emily, just moved in with me about a month ago. She’s going for her master’s in commercial real estate at Georgia State University. If she moved in with me, she’d get a lower tuition rate, so it made sense for both of us. She’d help me save some money on rent, and she’d save thousands of dollars a year at the same time.
The heavy feeling in my chest is still there as my mind floats back to Ruslan. I said I was going to call his right-hand man, Danill, but I haven’t done it yet. I don’t know why I’m so afraid to call. Part of me thinks it’s because Danill’s going to tell me Ruslan’s perfectly fine but isn’t coming back.
As much as I want to know, the only way I’m going to find it out is if I actually call Danill. Sure, it might be two in the morning, but Danill works for a man who’s heavily involved in organized crime. I’m sure he’s awake. With my phone in my hand, I unlock it and scroll through my contacts. Eventually, I land on Danill’s name and tap the small phone icon.
While the phone rings, I head into the kitchen and grab a bottle of wine from the fridge and a glass. It continues ringing while I’m opening the bottle, and finally, when I begin to pour, he answers. “Miss Amelia, what can I do for you?”
“Telling me what’s going on with Ruslan would be a nice start.” I know I probably sound a bit aggravated, but the truth is I’m worried. I’m worried because this man stuck his neck out for me, yes, but also because I’ve grown attached to him in a way I can’t yet comprehend.
“I don’t have anything to tell you. I’m waiting for Ruslan to contact me.” Danill keeps his voice practically monotone. If that’s not a surefire sign something’s very wrong, I don’t know what is.
