Page 71
Story: Fate and Family
The woman shrugs and smirks. “To each his own. I’m going to fuck the best man.”
“You have fun with that,” I say as I take out the burner phone and leave it on the table.
Katya returns, standing next to me with a tray in her hand. She leans over the table to hand the older couple their drinks and places the white wine in front of the other woman’s seat. Before she pulls my drink off the table, she slides something into my coat pocket. Her actions are smooth and fast, and if I wasn’t paying close attention I would have missed it. She places a creamy liquid in front of me. “White Russian is the best we can do, sir.”
I slip my hand into the jacket pocket. The fabric my fingertips graze is lacy, warm, and damp. I stifle my groan. “Thank you,” I say in English, but in Russian, I add, “Show me.”
She swallows. “I don’t understand.”
I repeat the statement, but this time I drum my fingers across the phone screen.
She swallows at me, her eyes a little glassy but annoyed, then someone calls her over. “I’ve got to work.”
She spends most of her night fluttering about the side of the room with known members of various crime families. After the declaration of no cake, several tables cleared out. But the parfait bar was actually a pretty good idea. I avoided the cookies after watching everyone make the same disappointed face.
My phone buzzes and I step outside on the balcony to watch Katya’s video. The video is shaky and grainy, but she stares directly into the camera and says, “You’re in a mood tonight.” She leans in closer to the camera and whispers, “I like it,” before pulling back. “And I like you.”
The camera goes all shaky and the side of the frame is filled with her legs. She puts the phone between her knees and hikes up her skirt, revealing her bare pussy. Her middle finger and ring finger dip inside and start rubbing. She moans and continues for another minute, then lifts the camera and asks, “Are you going to finish the job?”
Yes, my little otter. I am going to make sure you finish.
Chapter
Thirty-Two
Dimitri
The rest of the wedding I spend watching people dance. My tablemate grinds up against one of the groomsmen. She shoots me finger guns, and I lift my glass toward her. Scott and Tawny say their goodbyes, along with grumbling and strained smiles. The guests file away and I make sure to catch Katya’s eye as I walk away.
There’s one camera facing the front desk, but it’s one of those old ones from the eighties and the red blinking light is off. So either the light or the camera’s not working. I’m going to go with the latter, because the security around here is pathetic. The front desk is empty, and I walk through the unlocked employees only door, scanning the offices until I find what I’m looking for.
Thank God Almighty this door isn’t locked either. Does anyone on this staff have a sense of danger?
Now, I wait.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
I check my watch. It’s been thirty-six seconds. It’s a fucking miracle I’ve been able to wait for Katya for all these years considering I’m so impatient.
Leaning against a desk, I nudge the two chairs in front of it with my foot, spreading the chairs apart. I’ve got plans for them.
Katya walks through the door, eyes blazing with emotions. At first I think it’s lust for me. But the hints of hidden panic say otherwise. “Isabella Marciano is in danger.”
Not where I hoped this evening was going. “Who’s that?”
Kayta throws her arms up in the air. “The woman you were sitting with who yelled at the bride about cake. I overheard the weasel on the phone, talking about Izzy and her location. We need to tell Alana.”
“She’s at the club tonight. She only goes when Joey and I aren’t working, and there’s no cellphones allowed.”
My little otter’s brain works overtime, problem solving. “I could call it in, but then I’m going to get a ton of questions about why I’m protecting the Four Families.”
I push myself off the desk and walk over to the door, shutting and locking it. Katya stands in the center of the space, crossing her arms and glaring at me.
“I’ll call Uri.” As soon as I speak, she relaxes, and I can’t have that. “Go sit on the desk, hike up your skirt, and show me that pussy.”
Table of Contents
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