Page 23 of Owned By The Bratva King

I top up my drink and take my bags to the bedroom. The new lingerie is daring, to say the least, strappy and sheer in places between the lace. I twirl in front of my mirror, and I like what I see for the first time in my life.

It is in your best interests not to seek me out or provoke me in any way. That’s what he said in the note. Well, what I wear in my own home is none of his damn business. And he told me he’d keep his distance, so what’s the harm?

The evening passes with reality TV and a cheesy Lifetime movie. I keep the underwear on, a touch of luxury against my skin beneath my robe. I feel like a superhero, the dynamic me hidden under a humdrum exterior.

I order a pizza, but it does little to soak up the alcohol, and I drink two-thirds of the bottle before calling it quits. The bag containing my new sex toy is stashed at the back of the closet like a shameful secret.

My heart leaps at every sound outside, every muffled footfall in the corridor. I could tell myself I’m scared, but that’s not the only emotion coursing through me.

Get a grip, Quinn. Go to bed.

I stand and head for my room, but I pause to take one last look at the door. My feet carry me toward it, and I pretend I’m a commentator observing the scene as it unfolds.

Oh, look at that. She took the chain off. And is she undoing the bolt? She is! This is a whole new vibe for Quinn Sullivan! Who is this girl?

Gah. It’s not like it’s completely unlocked. I’m just kinda messy and not thinking things through. Best get my head down before I do something really dumb.

I scooch under the bedcovers and reach for the lamp on the nightstand, plunging the room into a blueish darkness, like in my fantasy story. A roll of thunder carries me to sleep.

“Roman”, I whisper as I drift away. “Come to me.”

18

Roman

Iusually enjoy cards, liquor, and good company, but there’s something on my mind. I can’t shake it, and it shows.

“You annihilated me at poker, yet you’re not gloating,” Viktor says, topping off my glass. “Are you still brooding? Don’t worry about it, boss. Lubomski will keep you in the loop; the weasel is too scared to pull any more suicidal stunts.”

He frowns as he hands over my drink. “Ever thought he might tell Vercotti everything he tells us?” he asks. “It’d be the best way for him to avoid being murdered by either side, but it would leave us vulnerable.”

I down the whiskey and grimace. “I’m counting on it. Vercotti will think he has an advantage, and that might be enough to tempt him into getting too close for comfort. He’s a fucking coward; he’ll send his lackeys and thugs, but he never gets his hands dirty. I don’t think he truly believes he’ll ever succeed in taking me down.”

Leon sits down beside me. “What is Vercotti’s problem? People die. It happens.”

I sigh. “He made it about himself. Suffice it to say I tried to protect the people I loved and ultimately failed. Vercotti blames me for that, and I can’t say I disagree.”

“Is that why you don’t have the cunt murdered?” Leon asks.

“No.” I arch a brow at him. “He was my brother in arms. He may have no honor, but I do, and I don’t wanna kill him without at least trying to make peace.”

“Sounds to me like your conscience is making a pussy out of you,” Viktor laughs. Leon exhales heavily and glances at his feet, knowing I won’t take the remark lightly.

“Conscience?” I lean forward, resting my hands on my knees. “Watch your mouth. You’re a good man, Viktor, but I don’t have a ton of patience. I’d advise you not the fuck around and find out what happens when it runs out.”

Viktor holds up his hands. “Okay. I spoke out of turn.” He picks up the deck of cards and shuffles them. “Canasta, for money? I’m shit at it, so maybe emptying my pockets will cheer you up.”

Why the fuck am I here? It’s three a.m., and this bar is still packed. Figures: some of the most beautiful women in the world dance on that stage. And I own the place, so no matter how busy it is, there’s always a roped-off area reserved for me.

“Katrina!” Leon beckons the shot girl. “Bring your fine ass over here. Boss man is getting dry.”

Katrina obeys, of course. She’s been here a while, but this is the first time I’ve noticed how sad she seems. Rings surround her eyes, and she moves slowly, trying to stretch out the time before the lascivious comments start.

“Hey,” I say. “Leave her alone. She’s not in the mood for your bullshit.”

Leon laughs, then realizes I’m serious. “Well, shit. Okay. When did you lose your sense of humor?”

I don’t reply because he’s asking the wrong question. It’s not my sense of humor; it’s my whole fucking outlook.

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