Page 39 of Paid for By the Bratva

“Now, let me show you the rest of the club. We'll start with the bar," he tells me, giving me his arm. With a smile, I take it.

As we continue our tour, I can't shake the feeling that there's more to Dima's decision to bring me here than just a simple distraction. But for now, I'm content to let my guard down and enjoy this rare glimpse into his world.

***

A vivid array of liquor bottles catches my eye as we approach the bar, their colors reflecting off the polished countertop like a kaleidoscope. Dima leans against the counter and gestures to the shelves behind him.

"Here's where we keep track of our inventory," he explains, pulling out a clipboard filled with meticulous notes. "I make sure we're always stocked with the best quality products for our clientele."

He hands me the clipboard, and I eagerly scan through the pages, feeling a spark of excitement ignite within me. Thisis the first time I've been privy to such details about the inner workings of any business. My brothers always kept me in the dark, never allowing me a chance to learn or contribute. But now, with Dima guiding me, I finally have an opportunity to grow and be a part of something.

"Wow," I breathe, truly fascinated by the level of organization and precision involved. "You really have everything under control here."

"Thank you," Dima says, his eyes twinkling with pride. "But I'm always open to new ideas and suggestions. If you see anything that could be improved or changed, don't hesitate to let me know."

My brothers never cared about my input on the family business. Yet here is Dima, inviting me to share ideas. The fact that he trusts me enough to include me in this process fills me with a newfound confidence. I look around the bar area, considering potential improvements or changes that might benefit the club.

"Actually," I begin, "while I see the positives of maintaining inventory on paper, a computer log can ensure there are no discrepancies. Investing in software and barcode systems will automate inventory, reduce errors, and track popular products, helping you stay stocked, cut costs, and boost profits."

Dima nods thoughtfully, clearly taking my suggestion to heart. "That's a great idea, Lara. Would you be able to find the software we should subscribe to?"

“Happy to,” I say without skipping a beat, genuinely thrilled he wishes to involve me. "I can get us some quotes and shortlist a few programs by next week.”

"I don’t know what I’d do without you," he almost whispers, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder, staring right into my eyes. “Things around here have been…difficult.”

The warmth of his touch seeps through my shirt, and my heart races. Suddenly, the image of him kissing me in his car comes barreling at me, and I find my legs almost bucking beneath me. A strange hunger forms in the pit of my stomach,for him.

I forget why I was fighting him when he has the power to bring me to my knees.

My chest heaves as time passes, our eyes locked on one another.

“Come,” he says softly, clearing his throat when the tension threatens to drive one of us over the edge. I notice beads of sweat on his forehead. He looks like he needs us to walk away from this room, from this moment, or he’d lose all control—and so, I step back.

***

“Can you help me with these numbers?” he asks. Together, we meticulously calculate the profits and losses from the past month, and I realize that I've misjudged him. He's not just a man who sees the world to belong to just him, as I once believed. In fact, he's quite the opposite—dedicated, intelligent, and open to collaboration.

"Hey, Dima?" I say hesitantly, my voice breaking the silence that has enveloped the room.

He looks up from his paperwork, his cool gray eyes meeting mine with curiosity. "Yes, Lara?"

I take a deep breath, gathering my courage. "I just wanted to say…thank you. Thank you for giving me this opportunity to learn and grow, and for treating me like an equal partner."

His gaze softens, and he sets down his pen. "You belong here, Lara. You’ve got a great mind for business, and a mind like that shouldn’t go to waste. On Monday, I will have you on the payroll, too."

“Y…You will?” I squeak, my mouth almost gaping open. With those simple words, he makes me feel capable of anything.

“I will,” he repeats with maddening confidence.

My mouth almost hangs open. Needless to say, he notices.

“Surprised?” he picks up on my reaction, looking confused as to whyIseem to be confused.

Of courseI’m surprised.My brothers never saw me more than a naïve sister who couldn’t hold her own. In Dima’s presence, it feels like maybe—just maybe—I have more to offer.

“It’s surprising because I’ve never been offered a salary before,” I admit to him in a rare show of vulnerability.

A strange shadow crosses Dima’s face. He glowers almost, his grip tightening around his pen. Then, he shakes his head, almost like he’s angry at the injustice I’ve faced.

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