Page 7 of Her Cruel Empire
But business must come first. Always. It’s what my father taught me, and it’s what built the Novak empire.
The Families here in America seem to think my grip is weakening. Think they can push back against my pricing, demand discounts like I’m some common trafficker desperate for their scraps.
They’ll learn how wrong they are.
Tomorrow, the Gattos will get a windfall, and the Colombos will get their warning.
Chapter 3
Robin
The heat from that woman’s touch still burns across my fingers as I watch her leave the bar, my cheeks blazing like I’ve been standing too close to an open flame. I can’t seem to catch my breath. She looked at me like I was something todevour. Like I was a candy she wanted to unwrap slowly and—andsuckon…
And she was gorgeous. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in real life, with that silky black hair and eyes that seemed almost golden.
“Jesus, Shirley.” Logan’s voice cuts through my daze. “You look like you just got hit by lightning. What the hell was going on with that woman?”
“Nothing.” But my voice gives me away, coming out breathier than I intend. “I just served her a drink.”
Logan snorts. He can read me like an open book. “Uh-huh. And did this ‘nothing’ involve you flirting with God herself?”
Heat crawls up my neck. “I wasn’t flirting.”
“Right. And I’m straight.” He leans against the bar, studying my face with sharp eyes that see everything. “Spill. Who was she?”
I busy myself arranging bottles that don’t need arranging. The memory of her amber eyes, the way her mouth curved when she smiled, the accent that made her sound soclassy—it all crashes over me in waves.
“I don’t know. I have no idea. Some businesswoman, maybe?” I chance another look at the empty booth, disappointed all over again. “She had this accent. European, maybe? And she was…” Beautiful doesn’t begin to cover it. Devastating. Magnetic. The kind of woman who could make you forget your own name.
“And she was what?”
“Way out of my league.” Women like her don’t look twice at girls like me. She was probably just amusing herself, playing with the poor little bartender before moving on to bigger, better things.
But she touched my hand. She smiled like she already owned me.
Logan’s expression softens. “Robin?—”
“Forget it.” I force a laugh, but it sounds hollow even to my ears. “She’s gone anyway. She realized she didn’t belong in a dump like this and she made tracks.” Just like I wish I could.
The rest of the night passes in a blur of mixing drinks and forcing smiles. But even as I serve beer after beer, part of me keeps replaying those few minutes. The way looked at me. The heat in her gaze. The way my body responded to her proximity like I was iron and she was a magnet.
And the two hundred she dropped for no reason at all other than liking my smile. That two hundred will help cover the nextmedical debt payment, which means I only have to worry about rent. I’ve got a bit of breathing space.That’sthe amazing thing about tonight.
Not the golden-eyed woman.
By the time last call rolls around, my tips jar is fuller than usual, but my mind is still spinning. Logan and I work in companionable silence as we clean up, the bar slowly emptying until it’s just us and a few stragglers nursing their last drinks, including the slightly creepy guy that Logan pointed out to me as a “new face” when I came in. He’s been more respectful than a lot of the regulars, but there’s something definitely off about him. Logan already said he’d walk me out to the car when we’re done.
“So,” Logan says, wiping down the bar top. “Want to talk about what’s really eating you?”
I pause in my glass-stacking. Logan’s one of the few people who knows about my family situation—about the bills piling up, about Maisie’s medical needs, about how I lie awake at night adding and subtracting numbers that never balance.
“I mean, it’s just the usual.” I lean against the bar, suddenly exhausted. “Maisie needs a new prescription and I’m about to lose my family insurance. Alicia’s teacher says she needs a tutor, which we definitely can’t afford. And our landlord sent another notice about a rent increase next month, and that’s on top of the three weeks I’m behind.”
Logan’s face crumples with sympathy. “Jesus, Robin. I wish I could help more. I’ve got maybe a hundred I could loan you, but?—”
“No.” I shake my head quickly. “You’ve already done too much. I’ll figure something out.”
But that’s the problem. I’ve been trying to figure something out for months, and I’m running out of options. The loan applications were all rejections. This second job barely covers groceries and leaves me exhausted. And every time I think we’re finally getting ahead, something else breaks or someone gets sick or the universe finds another way to kick us back down into the gutter.
