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“Come on, now. Don’t be so cold, kitten,” crooned one of the men.
“You’re here for our pleasure,da?” his friend said with a chuckle.
“Yeah, besides, we’re not strangers, are we, love?” said the leader. “We’ve met at the flophouse, haven’t we?”
Kira’s face flushed red. “Wh-what? Flophouse? No. We’ve never met,” she sputtered.
“Aww, she’s ashamed of her past,” one of them said, laughing.
“Can’t deny the truth,” said another. “No use lying to us, slut.”
Kira felt the color drain from her cheeks. She muttered, “I’m not lying. I don’t know you guys at all. You must have me mistaken for someone else.”
“Oh, please. You work here looking like this, and you expect me to believe you just walked in off the street and got a job interview at the hottest casino in town?” the leader scoffed.
“Sir, there are plenty of other guests who need me. If you don’t have any requests, I’ll have to move on,” said Kira.
“Stop playing around,” slurred another man. “There’s a request.”
“Da, just tell us where they recruited you from!”
“Katja’s Cathouse? Koshki Ranch? Either of those ring a bell?” they pressed.
“I promise we’ve never met before,” Kira insisted.
At just that moment, the leader grabbed her hand and jerked it close to his face. He smirked as she yanked it back. He nodded at her with satisfaction.
“Red nails, huh? I knew you were a whore,” he surmised.
Kira was in shock. She didn’t think anyone else knew about the connection her mother had told her existed between red nails and sex trafficking. That was all back in Russia, anyway. What the hell did her nail color have to do with these assholes? Why were they so confident in accusing her of being a sex worker? Kira didn’t have anything against the industry, but it just wasn’t for her. She was content working as a waitress, nothing more. She didn’t want these guys spreading untrue rumors about her. What if they cost her this job?
She glanced at the service station and noticed someone else standing there. It was Mr. Muscles! But her joy dampened when she saw him having a lively chat with Lily. The pair looked very involved, only inches apart as they talked. The conversation looked serious. Perhaps it was because the drunk guys had put her in a sour mood, but Kira felt a surge of jealousy. She hated seeing him so close to and engrossed in Lily. She wanted him to look at her like that, talk to her like she was the only girl in the room.
But that wasn’t right, was it? She didn’t have any ownership over Mr. Muscles. He wasn’t her boyfriend, just some guy she flirted with at work. Lily already had a long-term boyfriend, anyway. But if Mr. Muscles didn’t belong to her, why did Kira feel so envious?
CHAPTER9
LUKA
Luka leanedagainst the shiny counter and gave the bartender a sidelong glance. He immediately nodded and began to pour a drink for the enforcer. Luka reached for the glass and tipped it back, letting the cool liquid burn down his throat and settle like a small bonfire in his chest. The acrid taste of vodka sat on his tongue. It felt good to be back in the warm, glowy embrace of the casino at night. Luka had his own modern, well-appointed place to live, but it was nowhere near as comforting as the Shining Star on a night like this.
“Long night?” Lily asked him as she polished glasses. Her tone was unusually short and curt, he noticed.
“They’re all long nights,” Luka replied.
Perhaps that was never truer than right now. Luka had just concluded a mission farther north in the state barely an hour ago. He’d had a situation to take care of near the Koshki Ranch. It was one of the legal brothels owned by the Sokolov crime family outside of Reno. Mikhail had a firm hold over that region, getting stronger every day. Part of Luka’s job as enforcer was to, well, enforce that hold. He trained the security teams who worked at the brothels, with Mama Katja’s approval factoring into the decision. The guys employed there were tough, and they weren’t easily fazed.
But sometimes, the circumstances called for a little more power. Luka had gotten the call earlier in the day that the local Reno cops on mafia payroll had a new suspect in custody for him. As it turned out, the man was a customer at the ranch. During his agreed-upon session with the woman he’d booked, the client had started taking photos of her without asking.
This was directly against the rules set up to protect the privacy, safety, and dignity of the women employed there. The brothels had a strict policy about phones, cameras, and other devices. They were confiscated at the entrance by Luka’s trained security team. Usually, there was no need for physical action. For the most part, clients were discreet, wanting their own privacy. They were generally just joyful to be there and were all too happy to hand over their cell phones and other items if it meant spending an hour or two with a beautiful young woman. It was rare for anyone to even attempt to break the rules.
But that particular client at the ranch had handed over his cell phone, only to produce a second one from his cargo pants once he was safely inside the private room. Unfortunately for him, he was not as smooth as he thought. The brothel worker had immediately noticed the sneaky photos he was taking of her as she undressed. As it was told to Luka, the woman had rightly confronted the client and said the session was over, effective immediately. The client had not reacted well.
He’d told the girl he was entitled to a ‘souvenir’ to look at later, that he had paid for that. Of course, photos and videos were not part of the offered package. The client had tried to get physical with the woman, who called for security. They’d descended on him like hyenas to a fresh kill. The security guys had taken their own swipes at him before another patron, just an innocent civilian, called the police. The cops on payroll around Reno had intercepted that call and headed out to capture the man themselves. They had given Luka the heads-up, and within an hour he’d been driving north with his team to take care of things.
Luka and his men had roughed the guy up, inflicting pain and terror in the most exquisite ways. Finally, to cap off the man’s hard-learned lesson, Luka had snapped photos of the culprit, beaten up and weak. Luka had threatened to leak the photos if the target said a word to anybody. He knew the pictures would destroy the man’s tough-guy street reputation. It was a credible threat, and a fitting one for his crime. Luka knew that there were limits to following an ‘eye for an eye’ policy, but sometimes it just made sense.
After finishing up that bloody venture, Luka had headed straight home. It had been nearly midnight by then, but Luka still didn’t rest. He’d been at his place just long enough to take a shower and scarf down a quick meal. He’d only had a couple of hours until his presence was needed elsewhere. The day’s mission had been spontaneous, but Luka had another lined up. It was a scheduled training mission, in which he would run drills with potential new security team members. Before anyone could officially become a security worker for the Sokolovs or any of their properties, they had to undergo specific, intense extra training. With an ever-expanding empire, the mob had a constant need for new security personnel to protect it. Luka was happy to guide the training mission. He had spent years and years pulling all-nighters, even when he was still young enough to train alongside his father. He was used to it.
