Page 6 of Paid for By the Bratva

It's clear that I must tread carefully, as any misstep could jeopardize the delicate balance of power between our families. But one thing is certain: the answers I seek are clawing at me to be found, and as the family gathering winds down and Lara leaves with her brothers, I make a decision I know could be risky but necessary.

I have to follow her tonight and see for myself what secrets she's harboring. The safety of my family is at stake, and I can't afford to leave any stone unturned.

***

"Goodnight, everyone," I announce, making my way toward the exit. "It's been a lovely evening."

"Goodnight, Dima," various family members call out as I slip away, their voices fading into the background.

Half an hour later, I wait in my car, hidden amongst the shadows outside Lara’s apartment, careful not to draw attention to myself. My heart races as I watch Lara sneak out from the staff exit.

She’s no longer dressed in the long black dress and pearls. Now, she’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt—an odd outfit choice for her regular night out in town.

And still, those clothes cling to her curves. Her long black hair falls around her face, down her shoulders, almost to her ass. I avert my gaze, shocked with myself at the observation that even when she tries to dress down, she’s an eye-catcher.

She glances around nervously, her tense demeanor fueling my suspicions even more. Why would she need to sneak out so often, even after a night out with the family? What could she possibly be involved in that demands such secrecy?

"Where are you going, Lara?" I murmur under my breath, watching as she hails a taxi and disappears inside.

I put my car into drive and follow the cab from a safe distance. We weave through the bustling streets of the city, the bright lights casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the wet pavement. I keep my eyes locked on her vehicle, my mind racing with possible scenarios.

As we continue through the city, I can't help but think back to the surveillance footage. The girl laughing and dancing with wild abandon seems a far cry from the tense, stressed Lara I've observed tonight. It's puzzling and unsettling.

She gets off outside a nightclub and I hand my car over to the valet, following her into a multi-storied club.

***

I slip into the nightclub, immediately assaulted by pulsing music and a dizzying array of lights. Bodies sway and undulate to the beat, creating a sea of movement that threatens to swallow me whole. I spot Lara near the bar, sipping on bottled water, unlike all the other nights she’s sipped a cocktail.

Her eyes are shifty as she nervously dodges any attempt at conversation from other people at the bar.

Tonight, she’s not the carefree, striking girl I’ve observed on surveillance.

She almost looks like she doesn’t want to be here. She keeps looking around the club like she’s waiting for someone.

"Hey, buddy! You wanna drink?" A waiter slaps me on the back, jolting me from my thoughts.

"Vodka," I mutter, attempting to keep up appearances while my eyes remain locked on Lara.

"Coming right up!" he shouts over the music before disappearing into the crowd.

I sip on it quietly. Lara continues to sit alone, nervous and almost afraid. Her phone buzzes and she pales as she looks down at it, again glancing around the club once she reads whatever message she got. Her eyes are wide with fear and she gets off her stool, leaving cash on the table, not bothering to wait for the change.

“Bill, please,” I wave down a waiter.

Chapter 3 - Lara

I sit at the bar, my heart pounding in my ears so loud that I barely register the music pumping all around. My gaze darts around the dark nightclub club, searching through the strobe lights for any sign of Marv, the man who holds my future in his grimy hands. Where is he? I need to get home. My brothers are there tonight. If they wake up and discover me gone…

The crowd seems to pulsate, moving to the beat of the music while I feel trapped in my own personal hell, unable to remember the times when a place like this seemed fun.

"Are you okay?" the bartender asks, concern written on his face when he notices I don’t order a drink and have been sipping on water for the past twenty minutes.

"Y-yeah," I stammer, trying to offer him a reassuring smile. “Just hungover from last night. I’m here to meet someone.”

My phone buzzes in my hand, and I glance down to see a text from Marv. "Meet me in the alley out back."

A shiver runs down my spine, and for a moment, I want to ignore the message, but the thought of what he could do with those photos forces me to act. The thought of what he could do to me if I meet him again is petrifying, but the alternative of what he might do if I don’t is even more so. I need to put this past me.

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