Since then, I’ve been living in an entirely new world.
I lean against the bar of the BDSM club. Despite how rigorous a place like Moscow can be, people will always find a way to have some fun. My eyes land on Katya, the woman I just had a scene with, as she walks past. We give each other a nod and go our separate ways.
I’m not a commitment type of man when it comes to the submissive women of the club. If anyone wants a dom to have some fun time with, I’m your man. It’s purely casual.
I do make sure the women I’m with are ok after we’re done. Pushing a woman’s body beyond her limits is thrilling, but I’m not in the mood to abuse anyone. No woman has ever complained. In fact, the many times I’ve returned to the club, I’ve had some of the same women ask to spend time with me for the evening. Katya is one of them.
I pay for my expensive vodka and take a sip. Never in a million years would I believe I’d be here right now, drinking vodka that would have cost more than my rent growing up.
I’m a free man now, no longer bound to poverty. A self-made man who’s worked my way up from the bottom to the top.
Nothing could be sweeter.
When my phone rings and I see it’s Mikhail calling, I finish my drink and step outside to do my job. It’s never-ending.
That’s the price of working in the Bratva.
VIKTORIYA
I stare at Gleb over the kitchen table. His handsome face stares right back. Mila shifts in her seat without saying anything. It’s up to me.
“So, what do you want?” I ask him.
Gleb cracks a smile, and I hate it even more. “As I said, it’s my job to make sure you girls are protected. Boris instructed me to care for you in case he died.”
“We’re not girls. We’re women.”
I can tell instantly Gleb hates that I just said it. Good. That’s why I said it in the first place. “Boris warned me about you, Viktoriya. Always with the attitude.” He speaks casually, but there’s an undercurrent beneath his words. Anger. I do tend to make men angry.
“I’m just stating a fact, Gleb. I’m twenty-five, and Mila is eighteen. We’re not girls. We’re women.”
“All right. Well, it is my duty to make sure youwomenare protected.”
“Protected from what?” I ask. “The person we needed protecting from was Boris, but he’s dead now. Mila and I are safe here. No one is coming after us. We don’t need your protection.”
“But you do need a husband.”
I tense. “Are you offering?”
Gleb’s smirk deepens as he chuckles. “Heaven’s no. I said to think of me as a father figure. I have no desire to marry either of you. I want you to trust me. I’m here to help you both find a husband. That is all.”
“You can’t blame my sister or me for not trusting you. We’ve been through a lot since our parents died.”
“And that’s why I’m here to help. I know Boris tried to marry Mila.” He gives Mila a soft smile that I don’t like one bit. It’s not jealousy. It’s anger on my part. Mila quickly averts her gaze before Gleb turns back to me. “But I can assure you, I would never do that. I will make sure you’re safe and cared for. That is all.”
Something tells me kicking Gleb out of my house isn’t in my best interest. “Fine. We appreciate the care and safety. Now”—I stand up— “Mila and I have a busy day. So, let me walk you to the door.”
“Oh, no.” Gleb leans back in his seat. “I’m not going anywhere. Since I will be a father figure to you both, I need to live here. Keep an eye on you.”
“Live here?” Mila whispers.
“No,” I say bluntly.
“No? Viktoriya, I’m here to stay. I would suggest you keep that attitude in check.”
“This is my house. It went to me after our parents died. I have the right to tell you to leave.”
He doesn’t move an inch.