Page 3 of Debt to the Mafia King
“Intense.” I finally found the right word.
Dion’s eyebrows rose even higher. “Intense in what way?”
“I was sure he was watching me from this expensive European car, and when he finally came in,” I shook my head. It sounded so silly now, being freaked out by something so mundane.
“He called me Printsessa.”
“He was Russian?”
“Without a doubt,” I admitted.
“Do you think he knows Alek? I mean, knew Alek before his accident?”
My heart twisted. I would never get used to talking about Alek in the past tense. Sure, we had broken up, but that didn’t mean I didn’t care. It didn’t mean I was glad he was dead.
“No,” I said sadly. “This guy was rich. Like old money rich, and like I said, he was really intense.”
“Makes sense. The car I saw wasn’t something you would usually see around these parts. It’s what got my attention to begin with. It’s probably just a coincidence, and the fact that he was Russian just threw you. It makes sense, Leah. How many nights in a row have you worked now?”
Frowning, I struggled to remember. “I don’t know, maybe twenty or so, and a few day shifts as well.” I shrugged. “I’ve done more.”
“Not when you were grieving, you haven’t,” he threw a brotherly arm around my shoulders. “You have three days off now, don’t you? Use them, don’t let anyone bully you into coming in to cover. It’s not your responsibility.”
I knew what he was saying was true, but honestly, coming to work was the only thing that had kept me going since Alek had passed. It helped to keep busy.
“Go home, Leah,” he said, leading me toward the door and grabbing my coat on the way. He thrust it into my hands. “Go home, sleep, eat, and— what is it?”
Frozen just inside the door, I stared out, orange white light, garish colored gas pumps, and, in the shadows, grey squat buildings.
The sun hadn’t risen yet, but there was a kind of greyish hue to theair, and it was quiet, like the city was holding its breath before it woke up. Usually, I liked the quiet walk home, but today I was dreading it.
“The car is gone, Leah,” Dion said quietly. “He was just a customer. You don’t have anything to worry about, but I can call you an Uber if you want.”
I wanted nothing more than that. I really did. “No, it’s fine. I don’t want to waste money on an Uber. It’s not a far walk.” Reaching up, I pressed my lips to his cheek. “Mine later for a drink?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” he beamed at me. “And call me when you get home, ok?”
I walked out into the quiet. Dion was right. The sleek, black car was nowhere in sight. The streets were empty.
So, why did it feel like someone was watching my every move?
Chapter Two
Viktor
Absently, I ran my finger down the cracked wood of a cheap dresser piled high with trinkets. There wasn’t a speck of dust on it.
Just like there wasn’t dust on the photo frames and other small girly things.
She didn’t have a lot, in fact, she had pretty much nothing, but what she did have she looked after. It told me a lot about her.
Yanking open the top drawer, I stared down at the array of plain bras and panties. Exactly what I expected from her.
She was simple, and her choice of underwear reflected that. Still, Leah was beautiful. More stunning up close than she had been in the photos I had seen. It would have been a nice surprise to find she dressed in the prettiest or sluttiest of lingerie.
But I could imagine her in those without much difficulty, just like I could picture how she would look when I peeled it off her body.
My eyes traveled to the bed before I could stop myself. It was a low, sagging thing. Not sturdy enough for the things I was imagining doing on it. I went to it anyway, pushing down on the middle of the mattress and testing the springs. The wooden frame cracked from my weight.
