Page 112 of Emerald Vices

My fingers curl around the shirt he must’ve tugged on when he was inside. “Andrey, I don’t want you taking any unnecessary risks for my benefit. I know you need to deal with Slavik and Nikolai, but don’t rush anything.”

“I’m handling it.”

“Andrey…”

He hushes me, placing a finger against my lips. “Don’t worry, little bird. Remember my promise to you. I’ve got you. I’ve got this family.”

I believe him, but I don’t feel any less cold.

The only thing I can do is scoot my way into Andrey’s embrace and hope that at some point, the feeling passes.

47

ANDREY

“Fair warning,” Shura whispers, cracking the door open, “she’s a viper.”

“She survived Slavik,” I say. “She has to be.”

Shura shrugs and then ushers in the guest of honor. Ola struts through the door, her heels clicking along the hard woods. As she passes Shura, she slides her manicured nails right over his stubbled jaw. “Thank you, handsome.”

He recoils with a scowl. “I’ll be right outside if you need me, ‘Drey.”

She chuckles, hitching a thumb towards my second. “He’s scared of me.”

“That’s because he’s smart.” I gesture to the chair across from me. “Sit down, Ola.”

Despite it being three in the afternoon, Ola is dressed in a shimmering party dress that leaves little to the imagination. She smirks as she settles into the seat and crosses her legs, baring a long expanse of thigh. “Right down to business, per usual. When was the last time we saw each other?”

“I believe it was at Raya, a few weeks before you flew the coop with my father.”

“Ah, yes,” she titters. “Raya. What a shithole. You walked in on me giving your father a lap dance.”

I grimace. “You were always my father’s type. Like attracts like.”

“And apples don’t fall far from the tree. Is that why I’m here? Finally ready to scratch that itch?” She’s looking at me through lowered lids as she leans forward, placing her hand on my thigh and slowly snaking it upwards.

I push her hand away. “I’m a married man.”

She throws her head back and cackles. Apparently, in addition to the boob job, my father also bought her a new set of pearly whites. “That certainly never stopped your daddy.”

“My father and I are very different men.”

“Hopefully, that means you can keep a woman satisfied in bed.” She flicks her tongue along her bottom lip. “Slavik was a selfish lover.”

“I’m not remotely interested in my father’s sloppy seconds, Ola.”

Her manufactured smile slips for a fraction of a second. “Then why am I here?

“This club is where I do business. This right here—” I gesture between her and myself. “—is business.”

“Well, consider me intrigued.”

“Don’t be. You won’t like what I have to say.”

She wipes her sweaty palms on her thighs, but tries to pass it off as an itch. “Honey, if the price is right, I will like everything you have to say.”

I promised myself I’d remain calm, but my face twists into a sneer. “Once a hooker, always a hooker, huh, Ola?”

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