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Alex knew exactly what I was telling him even though I’d been vague about it. If we weren’t at the club, we’d be someone else, and the danger there wouldn’t be a bad hangover.
“Fucking fine,” he said, lifting himself off of his chair. “I’ll get some vodka.”
My mouth soured at the thought. Russians drank that shit, and though I loved my sister-in-law, I wasn’t interested in being reminded of our rivals tonight. “Bourbon,” I told him.
“Scott,” one of the others said.
Alex leveled him with a hard look. “I’m not your server.”
The other guy, I think his name was Jonas, shrugged. “Worth a shot to get a drink around here.”
I chuckled. “Here, here,” I said. I pulled out my wallet, which was full of cash. I peeled a few hundreds away before tossing them at Alex. He looked ready to stab me. “Use that to get us a bottle girl.”
“Make sure she’s got a tight ass.”
“And nice tits.”
I could tell that my cousin wanted to shoot our interlopers in the head. But he said nothing, as he walked to the bar.
I sunk down in my seat watching as one of the girls gyrated on the pole. It had been a long time since I had been with a woman. The last few months of my life hadn’t left time for much fun.
Now, the tides had turned. The Bratva was in ruins, which meant that, for the most part, my sister-in-law and brother were safe, and I wasn’t going to prison. It was time to celebrate, and I planned to do just that.
