Page 25 of Owned By The Bratva King

There’s only one answer, and it heats my blood. She wants me to come and pay her a visit.

My little pet has some stones, and I fucking like it. If it wasn’t almost morning already and I wasn’t somewhat whiskey-soaked, I’d make all Quinn’s nasty dreams of me come true. Hell, I’m ready to wreck her. If she carries on provoking me, she’s gonna feel my hand around her throat and my cock in her cunt, virgin or not.

I shut off the monitor and go to the bathroom to splash my face with water. A few hours’ sleep will sort me out, and then I might just be in the mood for a pistachio and cardamom cinnamon bun.

19

Quinn

The call comes at seven a.m., and by eight, I’m standing in front of the bakery, my eyes out on stalks.

The faded shop sign is gone, replaced with a shiny one in laser-cut acrylic, the name picked out in glittery letters. The new windows are spotless, and when I try the door, it opens smoothly instead of sticking slightly like it used to.

Inside, the counter is a vision in white with sparkles. Behind it is a girl I don’t know, wearing a shirt bearing the bakery’s updated logo. She turns and smiles at me.

“You’re Quinn, right?” She gives an awkward wave. “I’m Katrina. Viktor hired me. There’s a work shirt for you back here. I haven’t started baking yet, but I know how to use the new ovens.”

“Oh, okay, hi,” I reply. “Is Viktor here?”

As if on cue, the man emerges from the back room and leans over the counter to shake my hand. “Hello, Quinn. Sorry for the early call. Welcome back. I trust the refurb is to your satisfaction?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it. Mom would adore this place.”

Why did I say that? Now my eyes are filling with tears.

Viktor wisely ignores my emotional oversharing. “This is your new employee,” he says, gesturing at Katrina. “She had a different position in Rokaz but volunteered to work here with you.”

I nod. “Great. So I guess we can open at lunchtime after we’ve oriented ourselves and done some baking.” I pause, and then the question rushes out of my mouth. “Roman Kazanov is the boss of Rokaz, isn’t he?”

Viktor examines his cuticles. “Sure. He’s the boss of a lot of things. Wealthy, connected. He’s a big player in this city and a friend. Why?”

Because I think Mr. Moneybags Big Shot let himself into my apartment and read my secret thoughts, that’s why. And last night, I dreamed of him on top of me, his hips pumping as he drove into me over and over again?—

“Doesn’t matter.” I glance around. “So, shall we get started?”

“Absolutely.” Viktor makes for the door. “Oh, and Miss Sullivan?”

“Yes?”

“Make those fancy cinnamon buns you do so well. I’m sure your customers will have missed them.”

The door closes behind him, and Katrina clutches my arm. “God, he’s so intense,” she trills. “I’m so happy to be here. I can bake pretty well. My mom used to make all sorts with me until I left Poland. Does your mom bake?”

“She did.” I sniff and hold back a sob. “I don’t have her anymore. She passed away years ago, as did my father.”

“That’s terrible,” Katrina says, resting a hand on my arm. “What happened?”

I shake off the grief. “The mob,” I reply. “My father got in too deep with the wrong people. Mom was there too, and they don’t like to leave loose ends. But let’s not talk about that.”

“I’m so sorry.” Katrina’s complexion pales. “Okay!” she says brightly. “Let’s fire up the ovens and fill these trays with yumminess!”

We take the sandwich board out at noon, announcing that the shop will reopen at one p.m. To my surprise, there’s a long queue outside by twelve-fifty, and more people join by the minute, drawn by the heavenly scent of fresh cakes and spiced frosting.

“This is gonna be great!” Katrina says as she stocks the counter with more cinnamon buns. “I hope we have enough coffee. Thanks for walking me through the recipes. I think I’ll be fine to do the bulk of the drudge work without your help.”

I have to admit it—she got up to speed damn quick. As my mom used to say, ninety percent of learning capacity comes from enthusiasm for the subject, and Katrina has that in spades.

I find myself relaxing and enjoying the company. The world feels friendlier and safer, but that’s not surprising. For the first time, I have financial security. And that’s how it’ll stay because my benefactor has made it so.

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