Page 3 of Auctioned to the Bratva

Once I was sure I had everything I needed, I headed down and had the desk call me a cab. Stepping out into the cool evening breeze, I felt a surge of excitement pass through me. This was the first time in my life I had gone out completely on my own.

In Russia, Evelina, or someone else from the family had always joined me. But here, there weren’t a lot of people who knew me. A fresh start, with new experiences, and friends who still needed to be made. The ride to the road along the beach was short. The first club we stopped at was filled with a line of people longer than I had ever seen standing outside, and I decided against it.

I asked the driver to drop me at the next one across the next road. I could have walked, but I was a bit unsure of the area. This one appeared quieter, and I decided to head in. I paid the cabby and told him he didn’t need to wait as I was sure the next one would also be close by.

After straightening out the wrinkles of my dress, I stepped through the doors. I expected to find a room filled with smoke, loud music, and drunk people, as in many clubs in Russia. But the air was clear except for a couple of smokers seated at tables to the sides of the open dance floor.

At the back was a long bar counter with scattered people drinking alone. Frank Sinatra was singing from a jukebox in a corner while the band was setting up. The place seemed quiet, and I wondered if I shouldn’t go to another club.

The previous one was packed, and this one almost appeared dead. I decided to give it some time and strolled over to the bar. I would see if it got any better once the band started playing. I sat down at the one side of the bar. A couple was seated on one side, and a tall, handsome man on the other.

His dark curly hair hung around his strong face, his eyes almost disappearing into the ocean of waves. His leather jacket hugged his broad shoulders and fit perfectly. His eyes seemed dark, and I could not tell the color, but they almost appeared smokey in the darkened light of the bar.

He smiled at me as I sat down, and I felt my stomach making a knot. A young woman came walking over from the other side of the counter. “Hi, can I get you a drink?” she asked politely. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable and wanting to flee, I glanced at the handsome stranger.

The man in the leather jacket was staring at me. I glanced back at the door, wondering if it would be better to leave, but decided to stay. If I went now, he might follow, and I didn’t want to be alone outside. I would stay and wait him out.

I ordered a Black Russian. As the friendly bartender poured my drink, I glanced at the couple seated on my other side. They seemed deep in a whispering conversation and didn’t appear to notice anyone or anything at the moment.

The bartender returned with my drink, and feeling my nerves eating at me, I ordered a shot of vodka and downed it before picking up my cocktail. I noticed the mysterious man sliding off his stool and walking closer. I didn’t look at him or turn his way as he stopped beside me.

“May I take this seat, or are you waiting for someone?” He asked, leaning in closer. I felt a chill run down my back as his smooth voice hit my ears.

I slightly turned toward him but kept my head down and only peeked through my bangs. His eyes were a deep smokey blue, and his smile warm. I nodded, not sure what I should say. If I said no, I would be lying, and I did not believe in lying, even to strangers.

“Thank you,” he said as he sat down. His voice filled with confidence as he continued. “May I buy you a drink?”

The bartender returned and grinned at me as she asked if I was still okay. I tapped my glass to indicate I was fine. I answered the stranger without looking up, “No thanks, I can buy my own drinks.”

He relaxed on his stool next to me and sipped at his drink, staring out at the crowd gathering. As the band started up, the club rapidly became crowded. Soon, people were shoving in around us to get to the bar. I felt stuffed and wanted to get out.

As I slid off the bar stool, someone bumped into me, pushing me to the side. My one leg gave away beneath me. For a second, I thought I was going to be trampled by the people shoving and pushing. But then I felt two strong hands grabbing me by the waist and pulling me out of the crowd.

He pulled me closer to him and stepped back out of the crowd. I looked up into those dark eyes. We were now standing in the corner, pressed up against each other as the people still poured into the club.

“Would you like to go somewhere quieter?” he whispered. His hot breath sent another chill down my spine that I could not explain.

All I could do was nod as my lungs struggled to find air. He gently held me close as we moved through the rowdy crowd to the door. I could feel his bulging muscles through the silky cloth of his shirt. He smelled of old leather that had beenpolished, and I had to shake my head to keep my mind from wandering off.

At the door, a man took hold of my arm turning me towards him. “Where you going lovely,” he asked stinking of alcohol. I felt the man from the bar slide his hand down my arm and take hold of the drunk's hand. Leaning over my shoulder, he calmly spoke. “Let go of her, my friend.”

The drunk let go and stepped back. He pushed into another man as he stumbled. The man turned and punched him. As we moved through the door, I noticed the man who was not beating on the drunk had a scar on his face. My heart was racing as fear stepped in. We moved quickly and I was glad to not see more of the fighting that took place.

Once we stepped outside, he let go of me, and I took a couple of paces back. “Thank you,” I said, smiling softly at the attractive stranger. I shook my head again as new images invaded my mind and wondered why I had such a strong attraction to him. He looked familiar, but I could not quite place him yet.

“I take it, you are not from around here?” he asked as we stepped away from the door. No, I thought to myself as I slowly shook my head from side to side. I dared not speak as my voice might betray me.

“Neither am I,” he continued, not fazed by my silence. “Would you like to go to another one and try again?” he said as he held out his big hand. I glanced at the club and back at him.

“Excuse my manners,” he said, “I’m Sergei, and you are?”

A Russian name, I thought as I looked up at him and answered slowly, “Irina.” He still had his hand out to me, his face lit up with a smile that made him appear kind.

Why not? What was the worst thing that could happen? If I felt in danger, I would call Evelina. I placed my hand in his and allowed him to lead me to his car. He politely opened the passenger door and waited for me to be seated before closing it. He darted around the back and entered the driver’s side.

I felt a little shaken by the events inside and didn’t want to be alone. Plus, he just saved me. Who knows what could have happened if he wasn’t there?

I was still trying to figure out where I had seen him when we pulled into another parking area. The parking area was well-lit, and as he switched off the engine, he once again darted around the car and assisted me out. He was a gentleman, and this made me a bit more comfortable.

---