Page 106 of Rhet

Natasha pulls Barrett’s attention back to her and whispers in his ear.

“Really?” he says his eyebrows almost touch his hairline

She nods and bites her lips. I wait for it. In three, two, one.

“I’m taking one of your champagne rooms,” he says

I let the bitterness of my cigar roll over my tongue. “I have a suite upstairs. You can use it. More privacy and room there.”

He thinks about it. I needed to get him in that room. Quickly, I play to his ego and appetite. “There’s a mirror over the bed. And well, if BDSM is your thing. That suite is for you.”

I know he’ll nut over someone spanking his ass.

I beckon to an usher to come to my table. “Escort this gentleman to the red suite for me, please.”

He doesn’t even look back at me as he leaves the booth with Natasha at his side. He stumbles as he walks down the stairs. I sigh in contentment, knowing that by the end of the night, I will have everything I need.

I look across the room and Kozlov is gone. I guess its show time. I place my cigar between my teeth take a last puff. Then leave it burning in the ash tray. My excitement piles as I rise out of the booth.

“Hey, boss.” Molly comes around to my booth still naked.

“Sup.”

“Some gentlemen came in grabbed the man I was dancing for.”

“Yes, in the Champagne room, I know. Thanks, Molly.” I want to jog to the room just to see Joe piss himself.

I pass two men with a girl sitting on my red velvet fainting couch. She’s in the middle of them talking. I give up on walking, I do a quick jog to the champagne room and pull the curtains back.

No one’s there. Shit. Dimitri moves fast.

I send a message to Dimitri.

Me:Where the hell are you?

Dimitri:The docks.

How the hell did he reach the docks already? Did he fly? I run to my car and slide in. Then I dial Julian.

“Yeah.”

“The Senator is in the red room with Natasha. Keep an eye on him for me. I’ll be back.” I know the law says thirty-five miles per hour, but it’s 12:37 am. Fuck the law.

It takes me ten minutes to get to the docks. As I park the car, the scent of sardines and sea hit me. The foghorn of a ship blares into the midnight air. The buoy bell sounds over the ocean floors. The water laps against the jetty.

Port life is in my blood. I’d rather make someone else bleed than allow them to take away my family’s legacy.

I walk between a few red and blue 60-foot containers. If Dimitri says the docks that means he’s in his warehouse.

A scream full of hysteria reaches me, I know I’m walking in the right direction. As I reach the large wooden doors, I open one and step inside. It smells of ocean and dead fish in here.

“Pizda,” Dimitri say as I close the door behind me. I think that means pussy. Joe is tied to a steel chair, pleading for his life. Dimitri pulls his fist back and his brass knuckles catch the light before it knocks into Joe’s head. It sounded like a bag of wet sand hitting the ground. “Pizda.” I should ask him what it means after all this.

A lot has changed in the time that has passed. Joe’s face is swollen. If this continues Joe is about to lose his left eye. Not that it matters since, I doubt he will be leaving here alive.

I reach into my jacket’s side pocket.

“Where the fuck is my cigar? I know I had an extra one,” I mumble to myself.

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