Page 66 of Paid for By the Bratva

“God,” I say, unable to just watch as an innocent bystander. “We have to do something.”

Anoushka's grip on my arm tightens. "Lara, listen to me. We're not on our territory here. If you confront Marv, who knows how he might retaliate? Or who he has watching his back?"

Her words make sense, but my blood is boiling. Every predatory glance and smirk from Marv stokes the flames higher. I can't stand by while he victimizes another woman.

“So what?” I ask, mildly angry. “Do we just sit by and do nothing?”

"Of course not," Anoushka agrees, her face hardening with determination. "But we need to be smart about this. We can't just go barging in without a plan. Besides, intervening could make things worse."

"Right," I nod, taking a deep breath to steady myself, looking around, trying to think of a plan.

My eyes remain fixed on Marv as he leans in closer to the woman, his arm slithering around her waist like a snake coiling around its prey.

As we brainstorm ideas, I struggle to keep my focus on our conversation. Every instinct screams at me to rushover there and confront Marv—consequences be damned. But Anoushka's steady presence anchors me, reminding me that two heads are better than one, especially when dealing with someone as slippery as Marv.

"Maybe we could distract him somehow," Anoushka suggests, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Give her a chance to slip away."

And suddenly, an idea forms in my mind.

“I know what we need to do,” I say excitedly, grabbing my purse. I pull out wads of cash and ask Anoushka to give me what she has. When we have a sufficient amount, I wave down the waiter with a casual expression. Anoushka watches me curiously, her gaze following the waiter as he approaches our table.

"Can I help you with something, ladies?" the waiter asks, a professional smile plastered on his face.

"Actually, yes," I say, leaning in closer and lowering my voice. "There's a woman sitting at that table over there," I glance discreetly toward Marv's direction, "and she seems to be in some trouble."

The waiter follows my gaze and nods subtly, understanding dawning in his eyes.

I slip the wad of cash in his hand, and he pockets it discreetly. “Now listen,” I tell him. “I need you to get her away from him without causing a scene and without attracting attention. Can you do that? Put her in a cab, and make sure the cab takes her right home. If she’s not interested, tell her I know that man, and he’s…predatory."

"Of course," he replies, eyes widening with shock. His gaze flickers toward Marv's table one more time before heexcuses himself, weaving through the crowd with a newfound sense of urgency.

Anoushka is studying me when I face her again. "Did you just do what I think you did?" she asks wryly.

I smile. "His kind of behavior can't be tolerated. Not in my city."

"You're going to get into trouble one of these days," she says, but there's pride in her tone. Pride and understanding. Because Anoushka knows, just as I do, that sometimes bad men need to be stopped, no matter what.

We watch as the waiter approaches the woman, feigning surprise and talking really loudly like they're old friends who haven't seen each other in years. "Oh my God, is that really you, Jessica?" he exclaims, pulling her into a hug. Her confusion is evident in the way she stiffens up, but then the waiter leans in and whispers something into her ear.

"Jessica," or whatever her real name might be, relaxes a fraction, her eyes darting toward me and Anoushka before flickering back to the waiter. She nods, and together, they make a quick exit from the bar, leaving Marv scowling and bewildered in their wake.

I feel my heart rate begin to slow down, the knot in my chest loosening as I realize that we've succeeded in getting her out of harm's way. Anoushka grins at me, elated by our small victory, and I can't help but smile back.

"Good job," she says, raising her glass in a toast. "To protecting each other, no matter the cost."

I clink my glass against hers. “To girls and looking out for another.”

***

Later that night, after I get home, I make my way to Dima's study. He's sitting behind the heavy oak desk, papers strewn about as he pores over documents. When I enter, he looks up, and the stern set of his mouth softens into a smile.

"Lara," he greets me, leaning back in his chair. "How was your night out with Anoushka?"

I close the door behind me and move to stand before his desk. "It was good, but this is about Marv."

Dima's expression darkens at the mention of the name. "What has he done now?"

"The same as always," I say bitterly. "Preying on vulnerable women. I saw him tonight at the bar Anoushka and I went to. He was harassing a woman and would have done far worse if I hadn't intervened." I meet Dima's gaze steadily. "We have to do something about him, Dima. We can't let this continue."

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