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WillI regret it? Hell yes.
Because the fact of the matter is I just slept with a man who’s slighted the Antonov Bratva’s name. I slept with the very man I swore was my enemy. What the hell was I thinking?
“Let go,” I murmur as I hastily push him away. I hop off the bed and scour the floor for my underwear. I find them hanging on the bedside lampshade.
“What’s the rush?” Andrei asks me.
“You don’t have to waste the aftercare on me.”
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe it’s for me?”
I shoot him a pointed glare. I can’t tell if he’s joking. “Nobody can know about this,” I say sternly. “Not your brothers, not my family.No one.”
“Sandra, wait—”
I don’t stick around long enough to hear what he has to say. I pull on my underwear, smooth out my dress, and leave the way I came.
Chapter 14
Andrei
When I get to the taxi depot the next morning, I feel like two-hundred and fifty pounds of pure shit.
Sleep eluded me the entire night. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see her. The way her hair slipped over her shoulders. The smooth, milky curve of her bare ass. Her voice was still ringing in my ear, a siren’s call driving me insane. I swear to God if I’m not careful, that woman will be the death of me.
I tell myself last night was a mistake. A lapse in judgment. There’s no way in hell I can ever get in bed with my enemy again. What happened between us last night—as delicious and world-changing and amazing as it was—can never happen again. It was probably just something we needed to get off our chests, the tension between us building ever since we first met. Now that we’ve blown off some steam, it’s back to business as usual.
So why can’t I get my shit together?
My mind wanders during the company’s weekly debrief. It’s boring stuff to begin with, but I find it especially difficult to concentrate. I don’t want to know that fifteen of our vehicles are out of commission because of faulty engines. I don’t care that several customers phoned in complaints about excessive wait times. I can’t be bothered when Leo tells me our taxis failed to turn a profit this month. The legitimate side of our business is just soboring.
“Earth to Andrei!” Roman whistles at me from across the conference room table. “You feeling alright, brother? It’s not like you to have your head in the clouds.”
I sit up straight in my chair. He’s right. I need to stop thinking about Sandra. As far as I’m concerned, last night didn’t happen.
“Cut to the chase,” I grumble. “How is our other business looking?”
“All’s quiet,” Leo answers.
“I thought our supplier in Tallinn was expecting delays.”
“They got it sorted,” Damien pipes up. “The police raided one of their warehouses, but since they shipped their product earlier that week, they only suffered a minimal loss.”
I reach into my pocket and pull out my lighter, running my thumb over the lid. It belonged to my father. It’s the only keepsake I have of him—not to remember him fondly, but to remind myself that failure simply isn’t an option. I won’t die in obscurity like that adulterous son of a bitch. The day I go out, I’ll have an entire empire under my thumb and a legacy that will survive me.
“We need to think bigger,” I say. “We won’t see a profit from the Serpentine for a while, and I don’t want to continue relying on our business partners in Latvia and Estonia to keep us fed. We need to claim more territory and start generating income for ourselves.”
“Our okrug’s pulling impressive numbers,” Samuil says from the side of the table. He’s been on his phone throughout our conversation, so I’m surprised he was even listening. It’s his job to look strong and tough, after all. He’s here for his intimidation power, not his business prowess.
“Tell me more,” I say.
Leo scrolls through his iPad. “The ventures now under our protection find our new rate agreeable, especially in contrast to what the Antonovs were charging them. Once we’ve amassed some more men and territory, we’ll raise their protection rates by half. There won’t be any way for them to fight us on it.”
“What we need are more allies,” Roman says casually. “You tried with Akim and Ruslun, but they’re small fry.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Who do you suggest?”
Roman tilts his head to the side. “I’ve heard whispers. The Antonovs pride themselves on their diplomacy, but we all know it’s horseshit. They’re good at making everyone feel equal, but that’s the furthest thing from the truth.”
