Page 9 of Paid for By the Bratva

"Yeah, she just left," he replies, wiping down a glass.

"Where?" I demand, my patience wearing thin.

"Toward the side door," he says, nodding in its direction. "Saw her slip out just a minute ago. Looked like she was in a hurry."

"Thanks." I toss a few bills onto the counter, not bothering to count them, and push through the writhing crowd toward the door.

I step through the side door, and the cool night air hits me like a slap in the face. I look left and right, seeing nothing but a back lane and an entrance to an alley.

I need to find her, but not be seen. That’s the only way I’ll know what she’s up to.

I pause, listening for any clue as to where Lara went. There—raised voices drift from the alley behind the club. I creep toward the sound, praying I don’t get caught.

The back alley is shrouded in darkness, but the faint sound of voices grows louder. I follow the source, sticking to the shadows.

"Fifty grand?" I hear Lara’s petrified voice. "I don't have that kind of money! I sold everything I had to get you this."

A man replies, in a threatening voice I don’t approve of for use on a lady. "Well, you don’t expect me to believe you now, do you? I’ve found you online. Zolotov. Powerful girl with a powerful family. You better find a way to get it, or those photos are going to make their rounds. You wouldn't want that now, would you?"

I clench my fingers, overhearing each word and putting together the pieces. This man is blackmailing her, and from the nature of the conversation, I figure they shared a night together. One that he’s threatening to expose to ruin her reputation if she doesn’t spy on her family.

I continue listening. It takes everything in me not to barge in and rescue her then and there. Even if the Zolotovs can’t be trusted entirely, they are still Bratva. No woman from our world should find herself in this situation. I won’t have her be threatened like this, not under my watch. But first, I need to know if there’s more dirt he has on her, for that’s the only way I can assess how best to deal with this mess. For a second, the conversation dies down. I believe it’s about to come to an end and that he will back off.

But then, he says something unforgivable.

"Spy on them, or I'll sell you off to the highest bidder. Your pretty face would fetch a nice price on the market," he taunts. His voice makes my skin crawl.

I hear the terror in her voice as she begs to be released. Some more scuffling. He threatens to have her sold off to a whorehouse, a harem.

How dare he? I feel anger, more at myself than anyone else, to allow the image of Lara tied to some creep’s bed to entermy mind. The things this stranger, amongst others, is capable of doing to a girl as naïve as her…

I feel sick. I need to protect her. She doesn’t even know what he’s suggesting entails. It can get darker than her wildest imagination.

I bite back the urge to charge at him right now. My priority is Lara's safety, and rushing in recklessly could jeopardize that. But as I listen to the terror in her voice, I vow to make him pay. This man has reduced her to a quivering wreck, and it fuels my determination to protect her.

Lara's quiet sobs echo in the alley, pulling at my heartstrings. It's time to step in.

I walk forward slowly. I don’t want him to know I’m here, lest he harm her.

At last, I see two figures.

The sight of this man pulling Lara back into the alley as she fights for her freedom ignites a fire within me, my anger reaching new heights.

“Let her go,” I yell, walking faster. He shoves her against the wall, her back hitting it hard with a thud. I immediately look over at her, emerging from the shadows, worried if she’s hurt. Her head snaps back as she gasps for air, her eyes wide with fear as she clings to the wall with one hand and her neck with the other.He hurt her.

For that, I’ll hurt him when the time is right. I turn to seize him up, wondering if I should hurt him now or later. Red rage clouds my vision. But then, I force myself to focus on his face. I recognize this piece of garbage—Marv, a two-bit, low-rung lackey for the Valentino family. How dare he threaten Lara?

Does he really think he’s gotten this far ahead in life? The Zolotovs could crush him with a needle. That’s how worthless he is in our world, and to imagine he convinced Lara of how powerful he is. At this moment, I turn back to see a quivering Lara, realizing now just how innocent she is to the power ladders and workings of our world.

Anyone could take advantage of her, and I can’t allow that.

I hear Marv tell me to mind my own business and move his coat pocket to show me a pathetic excuse for a gun. I ignore him and extend my hand toward Lara, who looks petrified, her black eyes searching mine for safety.

“Come with me, Lara,” I say.

He blocks her path when she steps forward, his hand on her abdomen to keep her back. “She owes me money,” he growls. “And a favor or two.”

“She already paid you, from what I heard,” I say coldly, putting my hand inside my coat pocket, prepared to do whatever it takes to get his hands off her.

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