Page 25 of Baby for the Bratva

“No, I’m good. I think I’m going to go back to my room.”

“No drinks?”

I roll my eyes. “Honestly, Yuri, it was funny at first, but now it’s getting old. I’m not the type of person you want to get involved with, anyway. Too much baggage.”

His eyes meet mine, glowing a brilliant icy blue. “I could match your baggage and raise it by a million, darling. You have no idea.”

“Sounds like you’re toxic, then,” I say, my voice failing in the middle of my sentence.

“Maybe so, but that’s the fun part.”

I push him away, standing up on my own. I’m determined not to show anymore weakness, no matter how badly my legs wobble as I walk away from him. He tries to help me, but I push him away again.

“Please, just leave me alone,” I say as I leave.

I can hear the annoyance in his voice as he calls after me. “You can’t run away forever, Stella. I’m right next door.”

12

Yuri

I have a tendency to spoil things by getting too involved. It’s a helpful trait when it comes to business and drug trafficking, but when it comes to Stella, it’s downright destructive. I probably should just take Chekhov’s advice and bone some clueless bitch by the pool, but that wouldn’t satisfy me.

A man who already has everything craves only the possibility of failure.

But not the guarantee of losing, and that feels like what I’m up against with Stella. I need to know more about her before I make any other moves. She has a past, and it’s affecting her ability to enjoy a future with me.

I need to move in and dig for information without scaring her off. Perhaps I was too quick. She’s going to take much longer to crack, but the reward is worth it.

I laugh to myself as I get dressed outside the sauna alone. Here I am, laying out plans like I’m going to war. Chekhov would be laughing his ass off if he knew what was going on inside my head.

I get another little paper cup and fill it with water, drinking it in a single gulp and crushing the cup in my hand. That’s the last I see of Stella today. I have to pace myself. No more stalking, and no more obvious meetings. I need her to start missing me before I show my face again.

But that also means I need a distraction. I guess it’s time to call my contact in Jamaica and talk business. We’ll be stopping there in a few days, and I need to warn him about the increased need for security while I’m on the island. I can’t forget there’s a bounty on my head.

I pass two of my men disguised as swimmers as I leave the sauna. Normally, it’s comforting to have so many people on my side when the danger level has risen so high, but today it feels invasive. It’s like the paparazzi rushing up to me with cameras in my face, asking me how it went with Stella.

Not good. That’s all I can say.

I pass up the opportunity to get food or drinks like I had planned, and head straight for the lower deck that’s blocked off to regular passengers. A couple of cones is all it takes to get privacy on a boat. Signs don’t work as well because people are too busy looking at their phones to notice them.

I can’t imagine paying thousands of dollars for a cruise, only to waste it by being glued to your phone all day. Why pay extra for the shitty Wi-Fi when you could be enjoying everything the boat has to offer?

Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I prefer it that way to today’s total lack of self-control. I don’t feel like Stella behaves that way, and I’m thankful for it, but most other people do.

Especially Americans. Just something I’ve observed. I think it has to do with the individualism and self-indulgence rooted in their culture, but they can’t be judged too harshly for it. It’s what made them so successful in the first place.

But my focus today has shifted from one particular pretty American woman to a clever Jamaican businessman who knows how to move cocaine like it’s legal. Javell supplies almost the entire island, and as a result, he lives a life of luxury most people would envy.

It’s never about the money, though. Once you reach a certain level, you start chasing power, and money is simply the bricks you use to build your fortress. It takes influence, charisma, loyalty, and bravery to remain on the throne, so I have the utmost respect for people like Javell, who seem to climb higher and higher every year.

He’ll understand my need for increased security.

I call him when I’m out of earshot and view of the general public, extending the long antenna on my phone that connects to the signal amplifier hidden in the cargo area. It’s not easy to get a good signal out here, but it’s possible with the right equipment.

“Good times and good news, I hope,” Javell says cheerfully as he answers the call.

“Mostly, yes,” I reply, looking out toward the water. “Just a few last-minute updates for you. The ship was stopped for a few hours last night, just after leaving port. We should be making up the time with extra speed, but there’s a possibility that we’ll be a little later than expected.”

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