Page 1 of Demetri
Prologue
Demetri
De Burca. The name alone leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I've never dealt with this particular family personally, but know they are the bottom feeders of organized crime in the United States. Make no mistake; Ronan and his men will die. That is a guarantee. If it weren't for the fact Jake deserves to kill the motherfucker himself, I would break every bone in Ronan's body before making him choke on his own blood for what he did to her — the woman I'm currently finding it hard to ignore.
Glory Keller
I keep trying to make sense of my behavior. I've learned from experience that women should be kept at arm's length. No relationships. This is how I've chosen to live my life.
I grow increasingly frustrated with myself and look away.
I run the most powerful crime family in Russia. My soul is tainted with the blood of others and scarred by acts of corruption from my own family — those I trusted. I don't believe in anyone these days — only a select few. So, why does this particular woman, whom I've never met before until today have this dominant hold on me that I cannot explain? My eyes travel to the other side of the SUV once more, landing on Glory's battered face. Despite the bruises and swollen eye, she is stunning. My hands clench and rage forms in my gut, knowing some bastard's filthy hands have harmed her.
Why the fuck do I care? All these things should mean nothing to me.Sheis nothing to me, but I can't keep my attention off of her; something I've had a problem with from the moment I laid eyes on her.
My attraction to her is intense.
Beyond anything I have felt before.
I feel tension start to build at the base of my neck. My eyes drop to her full lips before drifting lower, taking in the fullness of her breasts.
Bringing my attention back to her face, I find Glory scowling at me. I also notice her rapid pulse beating in her neck just before her eyes cut away then quickly begins whispering to her friend sitting beside her.
Her strength intrigues me. For two years, this woman devoted her life to keeping her friend's daughter safe and out of the hands of evil. It takes guts to do that. It's a huge glimpse into the woman she is. Devotion to the people we care about and loyalty to them is a characteristic you don't find in many people these days. And in my opinion, because I'm jaded when it comes to women in general; finding a woman with the grit and integrity Glory has is rare.
It's also a huge fucking turn on.
Hours later,compelled with the need to make sure she is safe, I find myself back at The Kings clubhouse, in a darkened room, watchingheras she sleeps. The only audible sounds are her soft breaths, and the sound of my heartbeat pulsing through my veins. If she knew the kind of man I am, who I can become, she wouldn't want me. And make no mistake, she wants me. Glory tries to hide her attraction for me with icy stares and her sassy mouth, but I see past all her bullshit. The pull between us is too strong to deny it — no matter how hard we try.
Glory
It's Saturday night,and I'm sitting at home in my pajamas. I have spent every weekend doing the same thing since moving into my new apartment. I missed the days when I was the carefree woman who grabbed life by the balls; the woman who worked hard during the week and played hard on the weekend. That woman was fun. She was fearless and lived each day to the fullest. I'm not her anymore, but I want to be. I don't want to be afraid to live my life. I don't want the past to determine my future. I also don't want to keep waiting around onhim. My hopes that the only man to make me feel anything other than fear dwindled a long time ago. That he will come to the conclusion, he wants me too. Not that I blame him. I've only ever been a raging bitch toward him. There was a time when I thought he could see past my rough exterior to the real me. When I thought his heated gazes and lingering looks that made my insides fill with butterflies were a sign of his desire for me.
It turns out I was wrong. He never said as much, but he also never made a move. I feel foolish for thinking he could ever be into a woman like me. Pushing those thoughts away, I stand from the sofa and make my way into my bedroom. Enough is enough. Tonight, I am going to be the old Glory. I'm going to put on the sexiest dress I own and go out to the new bar that just opened five blocks from my apartment.
Stepping into my closet, I sift through the clothes hanging in front of me. When I spot the dress I'm after, I snag the black scrap of material from the hanger and carry it with me into the bathroom. I strip out of my pajamas, toss them to the floor then slip the material on over my body. The dress is a black, satin, spaghetti strap number that ends five inches above my knees. The front has a low V-neck that shows the perfect amount of cleavage. Next, I apply a minimal amount of makeup, topping it off with red lipstick. Reaching up, I release my long auburn hair from its ponytail and let it fall into loose curls that hang down my back. I finish off by spritzing myself with my favorite perfume. Inspecting my reflection in the mirror, I decide I look damn hot. Striding out of the bathroom, I sit on the edge of the bed and slip my feet into a pair of black five-inch strappy heels.
With my clutch in hand, I step out of my apartment, lock the door, and toss my keys inside my bag. By the time I ride the elevator down to the lobby, my Uber is waiting for me out front. After sliding into the back seat, I tell the driver the name of the bar. It's only a few blocks from where I live; we arrive in just minutes. I step out of the car directly in front of the entrance to see a line has formed. Trying my luck, I stroll up to the big guy manning the door. He doesn't hesitate to let me pass. Tipping his chin, he opens the door for me.Guess I picked the right dress. Although having an ample size chest doesn't hurt either. My tits have gotten me into more bars and clubs than I can count and gotten me out of a speeding ticket or two. Yes, I'm that woman and make no fucking apologies.
The moment I step through the door, a sudden wave of panic threatens to take over, but I tamp it down.You can do this Glory. You can enjoy a regular night out.Scanning the dimly lit room, I spot the bar to my right and make my way in that direction. My first initial thoughts of the place are it's pretty chill. The music is not too loud, and the floor is not overly crowded. I also like the fact it's not your typical twenty-something scene; which surprises me with the bar being so close to the university.
When I take an empty seat at the bar, the female bartender gives the man three stools down a beer then makes her way toward me. "What can I get you?"
"I'll have a Gin and Tonic."
"Sure thing." The bartender steps away and goes about fixing my drink. When she returns, she sets the glass down in front of me. "Thanks." I place a twenty on the bar only for her to shake her head. "The gentleman over there said your drink is on him." She points toward the end of the bar to a man in a dark gray button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off a set of tan arms. Turning in my seat, I lift my glass to my lips and give the man at the end of the bar a look. Taking my gesture as an invitation, the stranger tosses a few bills down on the bar and makes his way in my direction. My nerves start to kick in once again as the man stalks closer to me. I've done this a dozen times; come to a bar, pick up a guy, and have it end up in one of two ways — his place or mine. There is a voice in the back of my head telling me; this is a bad idea. But there is another voice telling me I need to move on from what happened in the past and get my life back. Not only do I need to move on from what happened to me, but I need to forget abouthim.
"Hello," a deep voice rumbles over my left shoulder. From the corner of my eye, I watch the man sidle up to the bar beside me. He holds his hand out between the two of us. "I'm Eric."
"Glory." I place my hand in his. The spark I was hoping for when our skin touched isn't there. Eric is an attractive man, and precisely what I would go for in the past, but now, everything about him is wrong. His hair is the wrong color, his voice lacks an accent, his arms are missing ink, and his eyes are brown, not the unique combination of one green and one blue like a specific person I seem to be comparing him to. And even though the guy in front of me is all wrong and the voice in my head is screaming that what I am about to do is a huge mistake, I make it anyway.
"Want to get out of here, Glory?"
Setting my drink down, I swivel on my stool and stand. "Yes."
Eric and I take a cab back to his place on the other side of town. The moment we step into his townhouse, we're all over each other. His hands on my body feel all wrong. His kiss is all wrong, and the smell of his cologne is nauseating. By the time we stumble our way into his bedroom, panic sets in, and the whooshing sound in my ears becomes deafening. The reality of the situation I have put myself in smacks me dead in the face when Eric pulls the straps of my dress down, exposing my breasts. His palms graze my nipples, and it causes my body to shutter. But not in a good way. His touch has my brain catapulting me back to a place I desperately want to forget. My dress pooling to the floor has me choking back a sob as bile rises in my throat. "Stop," I plead, bringing my hands to Eric's chest, pushing him away.
He stumbles back and scrunches his forehead in confusion. "What's wrong, baby?"
