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“Sobaka.” comes through the radio. I have no fucking idea what that word means but it’s what they call me around here. I take another drag of my cigarette before I grip my radio at my waist and answer.
“Da?” (Yes)I answer and wait for whoever it is to speak again.
“Prikhodite na front, seichas.” (Come to the front, now)I’m getting pretty good at understanding Russian now, normally I stand out here with an ear bud in my ear and listen toHow to speak Russian for dummies.The book sounds stupid but believe it or not, it’s because of that book I understand what he is saying. It’s fucking hard when they speak fast and I can’t catch certain words.
“Vie puti,” I say back as I drop my smoke and stomp on it before heading around the front. Nervous energy thrums through me. This is the first time I have ever been moved from my position unless it was to check a noise or follow an order. I slow my pace as I near the front, this could be a fucking trap and I’m walking right into it. I weigh my options and, in the end, I decide to hell with caution. I round the corner and I’m met by a long line of people waiting to get into the club. Girls stand there in skimpy dresses and heels acting like they aren’t freezing their tits off when it’s fucking snowing out. I shake my head and cut through the queue of people to get to the door.
As I near the door where the two large bouncers stand minding the red rope to keep the people back, the one with a scar above his eye nods as he motions for me to head inside. I keep the shock from my face and do as I’m told. I pull the door open and I’m immediately assaulted by the sound of the techno track that is playing. I probably should have asked them where the fuck do I go but I didn’t want to give them a reason to tell me to fuck off and miss this chance to get a glimpse of the club. I move into the entryway of the club and out of nowhere two guys in black suits appear, I stiffen ready for them to throw hands.
“Lift your arms.” The larger of the two guys steps forward, I lift my arms at my sides as he pats me down. He stops at my waistband, pulls my gun out and tosses it to his partner. He takes the blade strapped to my ankle and backup gun I have strapped to my other ankle. Once he’s disarmed me, they take my coat and jumper then open a side door motioning for me to enter. I’m not mad they took my coats, it’s fucking warm in here. The further I get down this dimly lit red corridor that has doors either side, my blood begins to circulate in my hands again and I start to feel the tips of my toes. What is it with Russian’s and the fucking color red? I round the corner and come to a stop. So far, all the walls and doors are red except for the door I am currently staring at, it’s black.
I roll my neck side to side and say fuck it once again to caution. I close the distance between me and this fucking ominous door, grip the handle and pray to fucking God I’m not walking into an ambush. I push the door open and walk in. It’s pitch black in here. I close the door and feel for the light switch, flick it on expecting to find a gun pointed at my head. It’s not a fucking gun, it’s worse than a bullet.
“What are you doing here?” I grit out as I dart my gaze around the room making sure we are alone and this isn’t some type of set up to get me killed.
“Helping you,” she scoffs.
“Why the hell would you do that?” She sits there on the edge of the double bed that is covered in red silk. The door may be black but the inside of the room is littered with red everywhere. I know what this room is. It also confirms what I already knew, that the club is just a cover for their more nefarious business.
“Do you know why everything is red from the moment you enter the corridor?” I narrow my eyes wondering if she can read my fucking thoughts. I run my gaze over her skeptical as fuck, I don’t trust this chick and I know she has ulterior motives. She keeps her head held high, uncaring that I’m checking her out, unlike last time she wears a pair of skin tight jeans, a blush-colored blouse with black boots. Her hair is curled and frames her face, her face which is caked with makeup. I don’t know why girls wear that shit, they don’t need it. All it does is hide their natural beauty.
“Nah, but I bet you’re gonna tell me why,” I deadpan. She inhales and her shoulders hunch slightly as her eyes take on a faraway look as if she is reliving a horrible memory.
“The dimly lit lights and the color make it harder for anyone to make out the blood stains. It saves on the cleaning bill, but if you look close enough you will still be able to see the remnants of blood from the girls who were strong enough to fight back.”
Anya
I push the dark memories back into the box inside my mind, I never dwell on those memories because if I did, they would consume and destroy my life. He has already taken everything from me and I refuse to allow him to take anything else from me. He can hurt my body but not my mind. I blink a couple times and refocus on Gage, the man is stunning in his own ruggish lumberjack looking way. His blond hair is tied into a man bun on the top of his head, his green eyes are sharp and assessing, a five o’clock shadow is present on his face. His long-sleeve shirt does nothing to hide the taut muscles beneath it, his jeans cling to him like a second skin. Gage Matthews is a beast of a man and must have balls of steel to think he can overturn the Bratva and make it out alive.
“Why am I here, Anya?” he asks. I slowly lift my gaze from his boots and trail a path all the way up his body until I meet his guarded stare. I uncross my legs and slowly climb to my feet. He can try to deny it all he wants but I know he is struggling not to run his gaze over me and appreciate the view. Unlike most girls, my ass and tits are natural. I’ve learned to use those assets to my advantage when persuading others to do my dirty work. All I had to do was flash a bit of cleavage to Shen and within five minutes he had Gage in here without anyone noticing.
“The timeline for Vlad has been changed. You will not be returning to the hostile tonight.” His left eye twitches as he darts his gaze around the room for the fifth time. “There is no one else here, you will not be ambushed.” He cocks a brow and gives me a condescending look.
“Forgive me if I don’t take you at your word.” I take three steps toward him, leaving a few inches of space between us as I gaze up at him, even with my boots on I only come up to his neck.
“You may not like me but if you and I are both to make it out of here alive, we are going to need to trust each other.” I grind my teeth to try and calm the anger thrumming through me when he snorts and shakes his head.
“It’s pretty hard to trust a fucking snake when they hand you a picture of your brother chained like a fucking animal.” I school my features making sure he can’t get a read on my emotions. I didn’t like doing that to him but it was the only way. “Is he even alive?” he asks softly. I can see in his eyes he’s scared to hear my answer.
I lie. “Yes, he’s alive.” Some of the tension eases in his shoulders and his hands finally unclench at his sides.
“What do you want from me and don’t fucking lie, give it to me straight or you’re on your own.” I swipe my tongue across my bottom lip. His eyes zero in on the movement, sending a thrill through me. Gage may act unaffected by my presence but his eyes betray him. He is attracted to me and hates it.
“I want your help to overturn my father and kill my uncle.” He eyes me warily. He’s smart enough to know that isn’t all I want.
“And, what else?” I hold his gaze as I say it out loud for the first time.
“I’ll set your brother free and end the skin trade with the Americans if you help me take over as the Pakhan of the Volkov Bratva.” His eyes widen to the size of plates, clearly that was not what he was expecting me to say.
“You want to run the Bratva?” The suspicion is his voice is clear, but he doesn’t understand.
“Truth is, no I don’t want to run things. You Americans don’t understand how things are here. The Bratva isn’t just some illegal mafia family, itisRussia. If I take over, I can change things and help my country… set all these girls free and reunite them with their families.” His face morphs into surprise. Clearly he expected me to be in this for the money.
“There is no way any of these guys will allow a woman to lead. I’ve been here for nearly seven weeks and all these sick fucks see women as are a hole to stick their cock in whenever they want.” I grind my teeth to control my temper. I fucking hate the double standards. Men can do as they like and get away with it. If women do the same, we are a whore or a gold digger.
“I’m not most women. Agree to my terms and I will help you get what you need on my father.” He eyes me skeptically for a moment. I can see it in his green eyes he doesn’t like this deal but he has no choice.
“I won’t promise you anything. If we have to burn this whole organization to the ground to get what we want, then we will. If there is a way for us both to get what we want, then I will do that. Is that good enough for you?” His honesty is refreshing and really it’s not like I have any other choice here. We are each other’s only options.
