Page 38 of The Lazarov Bratva

She laughs, a warm sound, and it pulls me through the crowd like a leash. I’m angry, I’m jealous, and more than that, a possessive urge surges through me like a wave that almost drowns me.

She scared me, and I’m not a man who’s easily scared.

Her disappearance had filled my mind with all sorts of horrors, and yet she was here, having the time of her life, without a care in the world.

It makes me want to punish her until she’s begging for my forgiveness.

The crowd parts like the sea, and I make it to the stage, only for the bouncer there to hold up a hand as if he stands a chance of keeping me from Alena. Our eyes meet, and recognition flitters across his face, then he steps aside. I stride up the steps and onto the stage, throw out a hand, and grab Alena’s arm on her next twirl.

She gasps in surprise, stumbling to a stop, and then she turns to me, eyes flashing and mouth twisted in a frustrated cry that doesn’t come. The moment she looks at me, her face melts into a mix of shock and horror.

“Kristof?”

“Get the fuck off the stage,” I snarl, not that I give her the option. I drag her off the stage and down the steps to a chorus of boos and complaints from the crowd, but they don’t faze me. These drunken assholes will forget this within thirty seconds. At the bottom of the stairs, Alena starts to struggle against me, but she’s much weaker, and it does nothing but make me even more irritated as I drag her away from the stage.

No one stops me. Anyone who does look me in the eye melts away in fear.

“No!” Alena squeals. “Kristof, don’t! Please, I’m sorry—please, I’m not ready for this to end.”

We stop abruptly, and I whip around to face her, bringing my face dangerously close, but to my surprise, she doesn’t shrink away.

“Do you have any fucking idea how much trouble you are in?” I hiss angrily. “Do you even comprehend the danger you are in? Or how worried everyone is? How worried I was? I thought you had been taken, and instead, you are here, fucking a metal pole?”

Alena jerks her arm in my grip and growls. “It’s not like that!”

This close, the sweetness of her perfume invades my senses. She’s half-naked, her skin covered in a sheen of sweat, and she’s inches from my face. I could take her right here. I could fuck her right there, make her scream and beg, and no one would stop me.

It wouldn’t be enough to sate me, but the temptation is smothering.

“Alena!”

That familiar voice breaks my thought, and I lean up to see Katja weaving toward us. She freezes on the spot the moment she sees me, and all color drains from her face.

“You,” I snarl. “I should have guessed you had something to do with this. What did it take, huh, to lead her astray? To drag her here and put her in danger. Is that part of some game plan, huh? Some way to fuck us all over? Does your tiny fucking mind even comprehend the damage?—”

“Kristof!” Alena’s yell cuts through me like a knife, and despite my iron grip on her upper arm, she pushes herself between me and Katja. Rage catches in my throat and I can’t speak. Every muscle coils tight, and my grip tightens further as Alena stares me down.

“Don’t you dare,” she snaps, and there’s a fuzziness to her words. How much has she had to drink?

“This was my idea, okay? I wanted to have fun. I wanted one night where I could just be a person. This was me, this was all me. I wanted this, and I would have done it by myself if Katja hadn’t come with me to keep an eye on me. I wanted one night!” She pauses, breathless, but her steely gaze doesn’t waver. “You have no idea what it’s like to be nothing in your own home. To just be a tool to everyone else. I wanted one night for me before I’m married to Mikhail and shipped away, okay? This was me. I wanted fun. So you leave Katja alone!”

Her defense of her friend is admirable, and if I weren’t so angry, I might have said so. Still, her unwavering stance impresses me a little, and as she speaks, understanding grows.

She’s as trapped as she looks, and having one bold night like this isn’t something I ever considered her doing. She’s surprising me, and I kind of like it.

If I weren’t so furious that she scared me, I might have relaxed. Instead, the anger stays even as I sigh deeply and finally release her arm.

“Fine,” I snap tightly, and then, from the deep, dark recesses of my mind, an idea forms. “You did this because you wanted a night of fun?”

“Yes,” Alena snaps.

“Why didn’t you ask?”

“Who would I ask?” Alena snaps. “Fuck you, Kristof. You don’t know anything.” She prods me in the chest with one finger, and it stokes the violent fire in my gut. “You think I could ask to go to a club? Fuck you!”

“Fuck me?” I growl. “You’re a fucking brat, you know that? Did it even cross your mind that I could have burst in here with a full squad and killed everyone to get to you? You’re fucking lucky I came here alone.”

“Whatever,” Alena mutters, stomping one foot. “We just wanted to dance and drink and meet boys?—”

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