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“I’ll carry backpack to dance floor,” she says while shoving her purse into my hands.
Hooking her arm through mine, she gives me another smile. The other girls walk in front of us, and I notice they try to block our faces as we head to the stairs.
The two men who are waiting at the table get up and follow us to the lower level. Svetlana quickly pulls me into the dancing crowd.
“Wait ten minutes before leaving,” she says right by my ear. She sets my backpack down by my feet and takes her purse from me.
“Let’s go,” one of the guys says while nervously glancing around.
The other guy and four girls stay with me while Svetlana makes her escape. I dance so I don’t look like an idiot and keep giving Svetlana’s friends awkward smiles.
Okaaayyy…this is not weird at all.
It’s only been five minutes when one of the girls waves at me, and the group leaves to join Svetlana. I feel a flutter of nerves and continue to dance while glancing around me. I try to see where Svetlana’s bodyguards are. I didn’t get a good look at them, though.
Ugh, I hope this doesn’t bite me in the ass.
Sweat starts to bead on the back of my neck as I wait another ten minutes. Feeling the urge to make a run for it, I grab my backpack and rush toward the exit.
I hear Svetlana’s name being called behind me and shove my way through the dancing crowd.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
With my heart beating a mile a minute, I make a beeline for the exit.
Chapter 3
Alek
Papa pointed out Svetlana Ivanov as she entered the club, and I memorized her outfit because I didn’t get a good look at her face. It all happened a little too fast.
Sitting in a car that’s parked by the side of the building, I watch as Vincent lights a cigarette.
“Mama’s going to lose her shit when we come home with the girl,” I state the obvious.
“Luckily, that’s not my problem,” my brother mutters. “I’m going back to St. Monarch’s as soon as we’re done with this job.”
I let out a sigh while scanning our surroundings. “I wish I could go with you.”
St. Monarch’s is a training school slash resort in Switzerland for anyone in the criminal world. It’s the only neutral ground on the planet where we’re taught how to be assassins, smugglers, and anything else crime related. Vincent is learning everything regarding torturing, fighting, and shooting. I’ll go through the same course as him once I turn twenty-one.
“Just one more year.” Exhaling a puff of smoke, he glances at me. “The training is tough.”
“If you can do it, so can I.”
He nods while his eyes flit back to the nightclub’s entrance.
Silence falls between us, and we watch as people enter and exit the building.
Even though I’m not happy about kidnapping a girl, there’s nothing I can do about it. I was born into the bratva. It’s been my entire life, and I always knew I’d fill some role in the organization as soon as I became an adult. It helps that I’m going through the training to be a bratva enforcer with Misha.
Suddenly I’m ripped out of my thoughts when a girl matching Svetlana’s description comes darting out of the nightclub, heading straight for us.
“Shit,” Vincent exclaims. “Grab her.”
I shove the car door open and run after her. The high heels she’s wearing slow her down, and I’m able to catch her before she can disappear around the side of the building.
Nervously, I keep looking around us for the guards while my arms lock around her. As I lift Svetlana off her feet, she cries, “I’m sorry. It was her idea.”
