Page 4 of Bratva Queen

We were visiting from Moscow, Russia, only in Belarus for new business ventures. Stepan was born and raised in the Koslov Estate in Moscow but owned a large townhouse in Belarus, as well. However, this downtown strip club, a good hour’s drive from that townhouse, was apparently one of the only clubs not owned by certain rivals of ours, so here we were, “enjoying” ourselves.

Stepan was insistent on waiting for this dancer to come out to the pole every night, and tonight he’d requested her individual attention in the form of a lap dance. I didn’t blame him. I couldn’t deny that I’d been watching her too. Though it wasn’t my tendency to visit these kinds of clubs, I couldn’t help the intrigue that claimed me when she stepped out onto the stage and swirled around that pole.

She was unforgettable. A wonder of a woman with long, dark hair that made her pure skin seem even whiter. Her body was like a goddamn dream—slim at the waist, but with ample breasts and wide hips. Every time her chocolate eyes locked onto mine, I wondered what she was thinking. I wondered what the fuck she was doing here. If anything, with those looks she could be on the cover of magazines, not strip teasing for greasy oldpodonok’s. Scumbags.

Despite my interest, I was forced to wait on the sidelines as Stepan tried to woo her. That was my job: always listen, always watch. Stepan bought me lap dances from other dancers, believing it would please me and keep me entertained, but how could I focus on a lap dance when I was on duty? When it was my job to keep an eye on him, and therefore, the woman he was so insistent on meeting? Perhaps I was just fooling myself. The other two guards seemed to have a fantastic time standing in the back, watching the other girls and chatting them up with stupid grins on their faces.

My attention was solely on her when she made her way past me, her shoulder only inches from my chest, and her eyes breaking contact with mine at the very last second. She moseyed over to Stepan with a sexy strut. Tonight she wore a deep purple bra with fluffy tufts at the edges and black high-waisted shorts that honestly, could be considered underwear with the way it tugged up between her rounded ass cheeks.

“What can I do for you, stranger?” Her voice was low, seductive. I ground my teeth together, flexing my jaw. Was that really who she was? Was she the kind of girl that allowed herself to be a plaything for dangerous men like Stepan? I knew from just one look into her eyes that she was so much more intelligent than that fake voice she was putting on.

Stepan lifted a hand, curling his finger in my direction. I stepped up to his side and glared at her. She had her hand on his shoulder and her knee resting beside his leg on the wide seat, with his fingers sliding up her smooth thigh. I couldn’t help the animosity that grew inside of me when I saw her submitting herself to him. Her dark eyes flitted to mine for only a second, before she cast them back down to him.

“Aleksei, make yourself scarce. In fact… Boris! Find my friend a worthy girl to take a seat in his lap, will you?”

The club manager nodded and clicked his fingers toward another dancer, who smiled pleasantly when she looked my way. Obedient as I was to Stepan, I took a seat—not too far away—and allowed the dancer to make her living between my legs.

“Oh, someone’s happy to get a dance,” she said, glancing down at the hardening lump in my pants. I huffed out a laugh, though it was forced. She didn’t need to know that it was the sight of Stepan’s girl rolling her body against his chest that had me unwillingly excited. My dancer put her ass in my lap and began grinding against me closer than I thought she would. Maybe she was aiming for a bigger tip. “Tell me what you like, big boy,” she purred.

“Shh, I’m trying to listen,” I said, my hand on her ass cheek to keep her to one side, my head tipped in the opposite direction.

She didn’t like me shushing her, but I had a job to do—to keep track of my boss and everyone he was conversing with, of course. When she leaned forward against my shoulders and swayed her hips, obstructing my view, I placed my hands on her hips to stop her. She stopped with a sigh and raised her eyebrow expectantly. It was clear that I wasn’t exactly watching her. So, I flicked a couple notes her way, and she left to find someone who would actually pay her attention.

“Got a name?” Stepan asked the seductress, leaning back in his chair with leisure. It was a game to him. Like a visit back to childhood, when the kid on the playground with the most toys was favored. He shared his toys but coveted the best for himself.

“You can call me whatever you like,” she answered in that same fabricated voice of seduction. Though, her tone was a bit shorter when she added, “For the right price.”

“Oh?” His lip curled in amusement, pleased with her answer. “Whatever that price is, I’m certain I have more than enough to satisfy you.”

She turned away so her back was facing him and positioned herself on his lap. Her ass rocked against him slowly, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. From where I sat, I noticed her eyes roll as well, only in the opposite sense. She was indeed faking it. It amused me, and if I hadn’t noticed that little break of character, I’d have assumed she genuinely lusted over him too.

Clearly, she was also playing a game, though hers held a different intent. One in which she was very good at performing her job and drawing the cash out of him. Stepan sat with a satisfied expression, feeling victorious over her apparent attraction. I bit back a laugh.

He continued asking her questions. After some back and forth, she finally gave her name.Isabel. Though he was persistent to learn more about her, she continued to give short answers, revealing almost nothing about herself.

Surprise, surprise. A woman at a strip club doesn’t want to give her personal information to an interested customer.Could he blame her? Who knew what creeps lurked around these clubs, especially in this particular part of the city.

Stepan continued to come back every night. He charmed his way in, speaking with her and learning more about her. And every night, he would ask her out, only to be turned down. But he didn’t give up. He was enamored, completely captivated and fascinated by her.

Stepan’s approach to getting to know her was far different than mine would be. I often wondered what questions I would have asked her if I was the one receiving her attention. Perhaps something a little more personal, something along the lines of, “Who are you when you walk out of this place? Who were you before you started working here? What dreams did you give up to be here?”

But I couldn’t. Stepan was interested, so I was expected to back off and let them be. I wouldn’t dare intrude. Doing so would be a death sentence.

* * *

Stepan was caughtup in this new bratva business one night when I came on duty.

“Alek, I need you to go to the club and keep the other men away from Isabel. I won’t be there tonight, but I can’t let those otherublyudkitouch her,” he said with disgust in his voice. He was meeting with a new associate, and of course, couldn’t put the meeting off for a lap dance.

When I arrived at the club, I spotted Isabel almost immediately, being waved over by some hefty man with a beer gut flashing her a stack of yellow Ruble notes. Her shoulders slumped slightly as she walked over to him with a forced smile, tousling her hair.

I quickly took her in as she walked in long strides. Tonight she wore even less clothing than before, making this so much harder for me. Her bra was a simple black lace, and her thong sat high on her hips, bowing down below her belly button and rounding out her ass so fucking perfectly. As if to create some air of mystery, she wore a sheer black gown with little sparkles of glitter in the material, hanging lazily off of one shoulder.

Christ,it was as though she’d dressed for me tonight; not too fancy, more relaxed and informal, as though she was in her own bedroom.

I stepped in front of her, cutting off her pathway to the guy. When she recognized not only my face but that I was intercepting her next customer, she seemed to sigh with relief.

The guy stood up and shouted, “Hey!” as he waved his money around. “I had her first!”

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