BEAST: A Mafia Romance Page 3

  "Two girls, Val and Tiana, together with my bartender, Sergei, who's being assisted for the summer by my nephew. You'll learn the ropes from them, ready to replace Val when she finishes working out her notice next week."

  Eva nods resignedly, pursing her pouty lips. "When do you want me to start?"

  I stroke my close-cropped beard. "How about tonight?" All thoughts of telling her to get lost have flown from my mind. "Go get changed and I'll show you around."

  In the early afternoon, I drive my Porsche GT3 home to the six bedroomed colonial-style house I purchased five years ago. I've grown to love the spacious, light-drenched rooms and the landscaped gardens hidden behind a high security fence. The estate backs onto woodland, and its isolation keeps me away from prying eyes.

  I think about Eva and realize I'm looking forward to seeing her again later. She was quiet while I gave her a guided tour this morning, possibly regretting her earlier sass. The chemistry between us two years ago was off the scale. As soon as I saw her in the club uniform, I knew I still wanted her. But something tells me I'll need the softly-softly approach with Eva Petrenko.

  Never had a woman refuse me.

  Ever.

  She'll give herself to me willingly, I'm sure of it.

  Eventually.

  In the meantime, I'll enjoy the challenge of breaking her down.

  I park in my underground garage and take the stairs up to the main floor. Olga, my housekeeper, offers me tea... but I decline. She's in her mid-forties, married to one of my security men. She'll prepare a meal for me and Brash before we leave for work, and she keeps the house spotless. "Your nephew is in the family room." She indicates toward the French doors. "Gaming." She pulls a face.

  I shrug.

  It's what he does.

  That and boning women, ha.

  Which reminds me I need to warn him off Eva.

  And tell him I'll be the only one returning to New Jersey from our planned fishing trip.

  Brash looks up from his laptop as I step across the threshold. "Hey," he grins.

  Not for the first time, I'm struck by his resemblance to myself at his age. The same mop of dark brown hair. The same high cheekbones and blue eyes. We both look like my mother, whereas Daniel takes after Papa.

  My heart squeezes.

  Not a good time to remember my father.

  When is there ever a good time?

  I lower myself into the armchair opposite Brash. "Hey, buddy," I smile. "We need to talk."

  Four

  Eva

  Kir toddles across the living room floor toward me as I sit on the carpet. "Mama," he gives me his favorite picture book, "Buuh, buuh."

  I open my arms and he clambers to my lap, sucking his pacifier while I point out the different animals. His attention span is short; within about a minute he squirms from my hold and crawls over to his toy box. We can't afford to buy him many toys, but he loves the ones he has... especially his wooden building blocks. Babbling baby talk to himself, he places one on top of the other until they tumble down and make him squeal with laughter.

  I laugh with him. Hard to believe two years ago I thought my life had come to an end. But just looking at Kir now fills my heart with so much love it's like it will explode.

  A mop of dark brown hair.

  Big blue eyes.

  The image of his father, except for his bow-shaped lips which he has inherited from me.

  Kir has become the entire focus of my existence; he's the reason I've agreed to be 'sold'.

  We both need the sanctuary of living with my parents.

  And I owe them big time for standing by us.

  But selling me to a beast?

  The jury is out on what Papa did, and I give an involuntary shudder.

  Jesus, the way Gleb was staring at me when I'd put on my so-called uniform; I couldn't help feeling aroused. His mesmerizing gaze had dripped sex, and my freaking nipples had formed stiff peaks under his scrutiny. I hope to God he didn't notice.

  He must never think I'm attracted to him.

  Just my traitorous body; I haven't been with anyone else since that fateful evening. There'd be cobwebs in my pussy if I hadn't gotten myself off during long lonely nights when I haven't been able to fall asleep.

  Even though he gave me the most precious gift of a son, I hate the Beast. He's so freaking ruthless. Sometimes I hate myself as well for acting like a slut with him... the fact I was tipsy when I let him fuck me is no excuse. Maya, my therapist, has helped me work through my self-loathing. She says I'm over it, that I've regained my sense of self-worth.

  Sighing, I push myself up to my feet and plug my phone into the audio system. I stretch my legs and warm up through the five ballet positions; then I spin and twirl around the room, opening and closing my arms in time to the piano music. Kir giggles and claps his little hands. He so loves it when I practice my routines in front of him. I might have given up my studies, but dance is vital to me. Maya encouraged me to go back to it, saying it would do me good... and she was right.

  Suddenly I'm conscious of my mom standing in the doorway. From the corner of my eye, I catch her smiling. "Kir's supper is on the table," she says, "come and help me feed him before you get ready for work."

  I bend and pick him up, shifting his weight onto my hip as I carry him through to the kitchen.

  "I've ironed your outfit," Mama's voice is bright. She wasn't at all shocked when I showed it to her, saying she'd worn even more revealing costumes for Latin ballroom championships.

  I thank her and glance around for Papa, but he's nowhere to be seen.

  He's kept a low profile since dropping his bombshell on me yesterday.

  Maybe he's feeling guilty?

  My heart thuds in my ears; I'm dreading tonight.

  Dreading putting on that revealing uniform.

  Dreading Gleb raking his piercing eyes over my body.

  Dreading my response to him.

  My stomach churning with nerves, I arrive at the club an hour before opening time. Staff enter through a door from an alley at the side of the building, and I use the key Gleb gave me this morning. The private members' area is upstairs, above the main nightclub. I scrape trembling fingers through my hair and head toward the elevator.

  I lift my chin.

  I've got this.

  The Beast might have bought me, but no way will he ever own me.

  I do a double take as I step into the lounge. Gleb looks as if he's grown younger by twenty years.

  Laughter bubbles up inside me. Not him, I realize; it's his freaking nephew.

  I'm such a dumbass...

  "Hey, I'm Brash," the young man confirms. "You must be Eva." He beams a mischievous, cocky smile. "Uncle Gleb told me about you."

  I cross my arms.

  Jesus, I hope the Beast didn't tell him about our one-night stand...

  I open my mouth to say something, then snap it shut as two women come out from behind the bar, dressed in jeans and t-shirts like me. They introduce themselves as Tiana and Val, both tall redheads and stunningly beautiful.

  I stare down at my short skinny body. Why the hell did Gleb agree to 'buy' me? I'm so out of my league here I'm rooted to the spot, in flight or fight mode.

  Except I can't bail.

  I'm in this for the duration of Papa's contract with the Beast.

  "I'll take you through to the break room," Tiana extends a hand, "you can leave your uniform in your locker until it's time to get dressed."

  Although I know where to go, having had that guided tour from Gleb earlier, I follow her through a door at the side of the lounge.

  "I guess the Boss has already told you about our customers." She shoots me an appraising glance. "They're rich, self-entitled. Can you imagine paying hundreds of bucks for a drink?"

  I shake my head, feeling even more out of place. I want be home with my baby boy; my eyes well up as I think about him.

  Tiana asks if I have much experience working in a club like Lure. I decide to come
clean and tell her that I haven't.

  "Not rocket science. Just smile big and you'll earn big tips," she reassures me.

  Tips I'll probably have to hand over to Gleb as part-payment for Papa's debt.

  With a heavy heart, I hang up my uniform and return to the lounge with Tiana. "This is Sergei," her face assumes a dreamy expression. "She points to the wedding ring on her finger. My other half."

  I shake hands with the tall, blond man before helping Tiana and Val check the inventory to make sure the stock of glasses, drink mixes, garnishments and alcoholic beverages is as it should be.

  So far, so good, I tell myself. Except, this isn't the part of the job that's been worrying me...

  Eventually it's time to go get changed. Val and Tiana chat non-stop while we put on our make-up, telling me which drinks to recommend. "Sergei's cocktails are to die for," Tiana says proudly, "especially those mixed with champagne. They're more expensive, so if anyone asks you should point them out." Lure's fame has spread far and wide she goes on to brag like the club is hers not Gleb's. Apparently, people even come from New York City to enjoy the exclusive atmosphere, attentive service, and superb drinks.

  Whoop-dee-do, Mr. Sokolov, I feel like sassing. Nice front for a loan shark...

  We return to the lounge five minutes before Lure opens. I scan the room for Gleb. No sign of him, which is good... I'd be even more nervous if he was here.

  A pianist has arrived and is playing Summertime on a Baby Grand in the corner.

  Suave.

  Sophisticated.

  This place is so damn swanky it takes my breath.

  Brash catches my eye and gives a thumbs-up sign. He's a cute kid. Oh, fuck, sudden bile fills my throat as the realization hits me.

  Kir will look like him when he's grown.

  I miss being with my baby so much it freaking hurts.

  Swallowing hard, I grab my tray and wait for the first customers to arrive. The deal is I'll be working with Val while she shows me the ropes. She's leaving next week for a new job in Atlantic City, she says brightly.

  Soon, two men wearing tailor-made suits and two women dripping in jewels come through the door. They go to Tiana's side of the room and I watch her pace toward them with a smile plastered on her face.

  Three middle-aged men enter and take seats. Val walks up to them, swaying her hips in time to Stars Fell on Alabama being played on the piano. "Hello, gentlemen. I'm Val and this is Eva." She indicates toward me as I approach. "We'll be your waitresses tonight."

  Val and I work well together for the next couple of hours. As Tiana mentioned, serving cocktails isn't rocket science. We write down the orders and take them to the bar... where Sergei and Brash do their thing... then we place the drinks in front of our customers who tip lavishly, usually fifteen percent or more. Val is generous and splits the money between us; little does she know I'll be handing my share over to the Beast.

  At around midnight, I sense Gleb's presence. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle and I spin around. He's sitting at a table in Tiana's zone; I hate him so much I get a pain in my chest when I look at him.

  Hate him for who he is.

  Hate him for what he does.

  Hate him for how he makes me feel.

  "I need the bathroom," Val whispers in my ear. "Can you serve those two guys who've just come in?" She points toward a man in a sharply tailored suit and another dressed in a tux.

  "Sure." I grab my tray and sashay over to them. The pianist is playing Moon River now; it's the soundtrack to one of my dance routines and I quicken my step. "Hello, gentlemen," I go through the spiel, smiling big like Tiana said I should. "My name's Eva and I'll be your waitress tonight."

  Tuxedo man rakes his gaze over my body, stopping at my tits. I blush bright red; my hand shakes so much as I write down their order I can't read what I wrote when I return to the bar. I'm confident I can remember, though. "A Sidecar and a White Russian," I tell Brash.

  "Coming right up," he grins. "You're doing good, Eva. Uncle Gleb will be proud of ya." He gives me a cocky wink.

  I lean against the counter while I wait. My feet are starting to hurt and sudden tiredness washes over me. Unable to stop myself, I turn my head to the side and take a quick peek at the Beast. His eyes meet mine and my stomach clenches.

  He nods, once, like he's pleased with my performance.

  My stupid heart flutters.

  "Drinks are ready," Brash's voice comes from behind my shoulder.

  I place the glasses on a tray and take them over to my customers, setting them down and giving the men a smile so big it almost cracks my face.

  Sharp-suited man takes a sip of his Sidecar and smirks. The guy in the tux does likewise, but he doesn't smirk. Instead, he leaps to his feet. "What is this shit? I ordered a Black Russian, bitch."

  "I'm sorry, sir," I try to take his glass from him, "I'll replace your order straight away."

  "Oh, no you don't," the man grabs my hand and pulls me against his chest. He stinks of alcohol... clearly this isn't the first drink he has drunk tonight. "I want payment of another kind." He bends and trails wet lips down the side of my cheek.

  A scream rises from my throat, but before I can give it voice, Gleb's security man appears as if from nowhere, grabs my customer, and rough handles him from the lounge.

  My knees wobble.

  The room spins around me.

  I'm going down.

  But then, strong arms lift me.

  "I've got you, Kiska.”

  I rest my head against Gleb's shoulder, limp like a rag doll.

  Five

  Gleb

  I sit Eva down on a chair in the break room and plant my feet firmly apart. "Breathe. Slow breaths. You've had a shock."

  She does as I ask.

  My gaze slides over her pretty little tits. If I'm not mistaken, her nipples have pebbled under the thin silk.

  She's affected by me.

  Good.

  I bend and reach out my hand, attempting to brush a stray lock of hair from her face.

  "Don't. Touch. Me," she leans away.

  "You seem to have forgotten something," I raise a brow. "You are mine. You belong to me. I call the shots not you. So, don't tell me what I can or cannot do."

  "I'm not your property." She lifts her chin.

  Fuck, I'm drawn to her. Women never put up any resistance to me, and Eva's feistiness is making my balls grow heavy; my cock strains against the tightness of my briefs.

  "You are mine." My voice is gruff. "You became mine the minute your father signed that contract."

  She folds her arms and looks me in the eye. "I won't have sex with you. I hate you."

  I laugh, pretending indifference.

  She's entitled to her opinion, but she WILL have sex with me ... and she'll fucking beg me for it.

  "You know what they say about hate?" I unleash a deliberately arrogant smirk.

  She taps her toe on the floor. "What?"

  "It's a heavy burden and a great waste of time." I shrug nonchalantly. "Which reminds me, that motherfucker who upset you will never set foot in my club again."

  "I'm sorry I wrote down his order wrong." She catches her lip between pearly white teeth.

  "Cunt was shit-faced. No excuse for abusive behavior, however." I narrow my eyes. "Just make sure you remind customers which drinks they've ordered in the future."

  She blushes. "First day nerves. I won't make that mistake again."

  "You okay now?" I tilt my head.

  She pushes herself to her feet. "I'm fine."

  Except, she isn't fine. Her face has turned pale and she's shaking again.

  "When did you last eat?"

  She frowns. "Lunch." A pause. "I think."

  Hmm. My guess is she hasn't eaten all day. She's skinny, so maybe she controls her weight by fasting?

  "I'll leave you to get changed." I straighten my posture, fighting the overwhelming urge to stroke my finger down her cheek. "I'm giving you and me the rest of t
he night off." My smile is without guile. "I'm hungry and know the perfect place to grab a steak."

  I catch the hesitation in her expression. "Don't tell me you're a vegetarian." I hold up my hands. "Not that I've anything against vegetarians, let me add."

  That elicits a laugh.

  She's fucking beautiful when she laughs.

  Half an hour later, I'm watching her devour that steak like she hasn't eaten in days. Or weeks, even. I'd lied when I'd said I was hungry; I merely toy with my food.

  "Don't you like it?" She peers at me from under her dark lashes.

  "Too well done," I grunt.

  In a blink, she's reached over and has speared my meat with her fork. She transfers it to her plate and starts cutting into it. "Waste not want not."

  I lean back in my seat and stare at her while she eats. It gives me a crazy warm sensation in my stomach.

  Fucking insane.

  Gleb Sokolov doesn't do crazy warm sensations.

  "Tell me about yourself." I move my chair closer to hers. "You're obviously not the hooker you said you were."

  "Nothing to tell," she says curtly. "I'm only a waitress."

  Silence rolls between us like a wet log.

  She's hiding something, I suddenly realize. No girl is this reticent unless she has secrets.

  She finishes the steak and takes a sip from the glass of water in front of her. "I can't pay my share of this meal. The only money I have is the tips I made tonight." She reaches into her pocket and extracts a wad of twenty-dollar bills. "I guess you'll be wanting these." She places the notes on the table.

  I grab the cash and push it toward her. "Jesus, Eva. Dinner is on me. And you can keep your chayevyye. Spend them as you wish."

  She nods, once, and mutters, "Thank you."

  That silence.

  Again.

  I clear my throat. "Would you like a coffee?"

  She declines, saying it would keep her awake. A yawn, and I get the message that she's tired.

  "I'll drive you home," I signal for the check.

  "It's okay," her voice trembles, "I can walk from here."