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“Nyet. I am trying to keep history from repeating itself.”
“What does that mean?”
His relaxed features tighten. “I think our time together has expired, lisichka.” He rises to his feet. “Enjoy your night.”
No. He can’t leave.
“Wait!” Before my brain makes sense of my body’s actions, I leap across the table. Mik stills, his stare slowly lowering to where my fingers wrap around his wrist.
“Why?” he asks.
My mind races to come up with an excuse, but those eyes are chiseling into the side of my head. Anxiety shifts my gaze toward the wall, but instinct draws it up the stairs and down a darkened hallway.
The Promised Land, the regulars call it. One that comes with a hefty price tag. On paper, the rooms are called “private entertainment suites,” designated for lap dances, and a cheap feel or two. In reality, Seven operates a veiled brothel to vetted clients with deep pockets. Every room comes equipped with closed-circuit television in case a client takes more than a girl offers…
Or talks to someone he shouldn’t.
Video is an effective blackmail tool.
It’s also effective in making a statement.
What I’m about to do could get both of us killed, but it’s an opportunity that won’t fall into my lap again. If I play this carefully, I could kill two birds with one stone.
If I can get Mik into a compromising position, he’s more likely to slip up.
If I can get him to talk, I can save this family and prove myself.
And as a bonus, I can give my father a taste of the payback he deserves.
I drop my elbows on the table and lean forward, letting my low-cut shirt give him a preview of what I plan to be one hell of a show. “You can hang out here if you like, but I have a much more interesting way to pass the time. What do you say, Iceman? You game?”
CHAPTER FIVE
MIKHAIL
I eye her cautiously. “What are you suggesting?”
I know exactly what she’s suggesting. The pole isn’t the path to wealth for Seven’s stage talent. That path leads upstairs to the VIP rooms. A hallway of iniquity designed to fulfill any deviant fantasy money can buy.
Bebe gives me a sinful smirk. “If you know my employers like you profess to, then you know the stage is just the pregame. Up there…” Her gaze shifts to the top of the single staircase. “That’s where the real show starts.”
“I do not pay for sex.”
I’m not stupid. Sex can be a weapon in my line of work. More than once, life or death has hinged on my ability to restrain myself from such tempting offers.
“Who said anything about sex?” She leans closer, those lethal eyes burning with a fire that betrays her plastic smile. “I offered to help pass the time, not suck your dick.”
“Then what are you offering, lisichka?”
“I can either get on stage and give Seth a public show”—she tilts her head toward the coked-up mudak —“or we can go upstairs, and I can give you a private one.”
Every muscle in my body tightens as an irrational surge of jealousy consumes me. She’s nobody to me, but the thought of that khuilo sukin syn seeing even more of her pollutes my head with dangerous thoughts.
“Just you and me.” The breathy promise lingers as she touches my face, pushing boundaries no one has dared cross. “For your eyes only,” she adds.
I grab her wrist, my grip firm. “I do not pay to watch women undress either.”
She lifts her heavy lashes. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not charging.”
