Page 6 of Vitaly

I throw my head back and let out a pleasureless moan that’s loud and long as I arch my hips into him and pray he can’t tell that it’s fake. He stills, groaning as his hands grasp my back, and when he’s empty, he rests his forehead on my chest and pants.

My arms burn, my muscles begging me to release the bar, but I hold on until Nikita backs away. I drop to the floor, my arms feeling heavy and fatigued when I wipe the sweat from my forehead. But it’s worth it. Nikita would never be able to lift me. This gives him a taste of the old days, before his injury.

Without a word, he rolls his neck and limps to his clothes. It’s telling. It means our game is over. He is the Pakhan. I am the servant.

We get dressed in silence, the sweaty clothes feeling more disgusting than when I took them off. I need a shower.

“Have you spoken to your father today?” Nikita asks.

I turn to look at him but then lower my head. “Uh, no, I haven’t. Do you need me to?”

He fixes the top button on his shirt then straightens his collar. “No. I was just curious.”

I nod, but I know he’s lying. He must be waiting to hear from Papa.

It must be about Custard Street. We just increased our protection fees for the businesses there, and there’s bound to be blowback. My father is responsible for Custard Street.

Today, the underboss, Alik, is getting married. It’s highly unlikely Nikita will want to be bothered with the low-level nonsense my father is responsible for. If there’s ever a time I could help, even in the smallest way, it’s now.

“He’ll be at the wedding today,” I say. “I could ask him how Custard Street is going then tell you about it tonight.”

Nikita laughs. “What do you know about Custard Street?”

I lift my chin and try to shrug off the irritation that flares from his amusement. “I know that any time prices are raised, there are always a few stupid enough to resist. Some of the brothers may think you’re ruthless, but I admire your ability to make people fall in line, and so does my father. I assure you, if there are any problems, he’s taking care of them. He isn’t afraid to make an example out of a couple associates.”

The amused grin Nikita sports slowly dwindles and dies. I get the urge to lower my head, scurry back to the shelf Nikita keeps me on, but I resist. I don’t know, I must be feeling brave because I’m pushing it today. And he notices.

“You sure do know a lot about things that are none of your goddamn business.”

An exasperated sigh blows past my lips before I can stop it. “Pakhan, please. I’ve been a part of this organization for the better part of a decade. I hear things.”

“Your father tells you things,” he corrects, clearly not happy about it.

I shake my head. “He says nothing to me. I’m just notdeaf. I hearyouand the other men.” Once the words are out of my mouth and I catch the slight attitude in my voice, my stomach rolls. Nikita’s murderous gaze tells me he heard it too.

Now, I don’t resist the urge to lower my head. My shoulders hunch, and my breath catches. “I apologize, Pakhan,” I whisper. “I… I shouldn’t be eavesdropping. Please, forgive me.”

“No, ????.” Nikita steps up to me and runs the back of his hand up my neck then to my hair. He wraps my ponytail around his fist before yanking my head back, making my scalp burn but not causing so much as a squeak to exit my mouth.

I’ve pushed it with him. Too far.

“Don’t be sorry.” He smiles at me, a cruel, unforgiving smile. “You want to play soldierso badly. You can’t help yourself.”

He breathes me in before letting go of my hair and stepping back. “Tonight you’ll get your chance… You get to be the one to pick up the earnings from the clubs. Well,” he tilts his head like he’s weighing that. “How about we take things slow? Pick up from Fun House tonight, and if all goes well, we can add more to your plate. I’m sure it’ll be nice to see the other whores.”

Theotherwhores. Pointed. Meant to be hurtful. I should let it roll off my shoulders and chalk it up to Nikita punishing me for getting out of line.

But it still stings.

Worse, he’s taking my one desire, theonlything I’ve ever wanted from him, and he’s dangling it in front of me as a false offering. All I want is a chance to prove myself.

He’s setting me up to fail.

Fun House is a whore house in Naked City, which is the most dangerous part of Las Vegas. I’m a twenty-three-year-old Russian girl who’s never been allowed to drive. If anyone even gets a whiff of the cash I’m carrying, they’re mugging me. No question.

When he goes to turn, I blink and stand up straight. “Who’s driving me?”

He turns and gives me a lopsided smirk. “Driving you? Do you want me to send someone to hold your hand too?” He chuckles. “Are yousureyou’re up to this challenge?”

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