Page 28
Story: One of Them
“When it comes to my siblings, Bratva is secondary.” I held his gaze.
“Something you can try to use against me if you wish.”
I waited for his reaction, a savage grin tugging at my lips.
To my dissatisfaction, he shut me down. “Stop riling me up.”
I slapped him on the back. “But it’s so fun.”
“Speak for yourself. You realize that mouth will get you killed, right?”
“I’m counting on it.”
Time didn’t matter here. For all I knew, it could’ve been hours. When the crowd thickened, hinting it was already early morning, I stepped aside to grab a drink, needing a moment to breathe.
Alisa poured her heart into the dance, spinning and laughing under the spotlight. So free. It tugged at my lips, forcing a small smile.
It was too easy to forget what was waiting beyond the entrance. For a second, as I watched the bride, I felt light. I’d forgotten the past and didn’t care about the future.
Her green eyes locked on me from the edge of the crowd. I pointed to the VIP section upstairs, silently asking. She shook her head.
“Enjoy,” I mouthed before turning toward thestaircase.
The couches upstairs were empty; the guests partied throughout the building, most of them beyond drunk. Open bottles of expensive vodka cluttered the tables. Ilya had told the staff not to clean up. The mess, apparently, was a sign of a good time. I rolled my eyes. Vodka and tea were the two things Russians could consume by the gallon.
I sought out a dark corner of the room, needing to cool down and be alone for a moment. Bow after bow, I untied my heels and kicked them off.
The soft carpet beneath my feet made me curse Ilya for not choosing a stone floor, which I would’ve welcomed more.
Leaning my head back against the wall, I let out a long breath, trying to release the tension and focus on the music. The familiar rhythm brought back memories of all the times I’d used this space as therapy. Still, the cooling effect I hoped for didn’t come. Sighing, I made myself comfortable on the nearest couch.
Laid out flat, glaring at the ceiling, I watched the party lights swirl above me in an explosion of colors. They blurred together, spinning just enough to make my head feel light, maybe even high. But I stared, letting them hypnotize me.
Red. Green. Blue. Purple. Black.
“Do you plan on staring all night?” I asked, my voice cutting through the music like a blade.
Seconds passed before I addressed the man looming above me. I had felt his presence for a while but didn’t move, content to let him reveal his intentions first.
His shadow stretched over me as he leaned closer, his frame teetering dangerously at the edge of the couch. For a moment, I braced for his body to collapse onto mine. Somehow, he held steady, his weight suspended, trapping me beneath the heavy darkness he cast.
I turned my head, finally facing the intruder who looked even less put together than before.
His light brown hair, once neatly styled, was now a ruffled mess, like someone had dragged their hands through the slightly curly strands one too many times. His shirt hung open, more buttons undone than seemed necessary. The scent of strong cologne tangled with cigarettes carried on the air.
Colored ink teased through the damp fabric of his white dress shirt, tempting my thoughts to spiral. My fingers twitched with the urge to rip the fabric away, to shred it apart and see what lay beneath.
“Depends,” he rasped, his voice thick with something dangerous I couldn’t quite place.
“On what?”
The anticipation hung between us, but my pulse remained steady.
“On how long it’ll take to get my fill of you.”
I eyed him, intrigued. It surprised me how quickly he’d sought me out. I was painfully aware this was our first conversation, drunk, high on adrenaline, and surrounded by the lust that poisoned the room. The smoke the DJ pumped out wasn’t laced with anything, but it sure felt like it was.
The game tugged at me, so I played along. “What if it’s years?”
“Something you can try to use against me if you wish.”
I waited for his reaction, a savage grin tugging at my lips.
To my dissatisfaction, he shut me down. “Stop riling me up.”
I slapped him on the back. “But it’s so fun.”
“Speak for yourself. You realize that mouth will get you killed, right?”
“I’m counting on it.”
Time didn’t matter here. For all I knew, it could’ve been hours. When the crowd thickened, hinting it was already early morning, I stepped aside to grab a drink, needing a moment to breathe.
Alisa poured her heart into the dance, spinning and laughing under the spotlight. So free. It tugged at my lips, forcing a small smile.
It was too easy to forget what was waiting beyond the entrance. For a second, as I watched the bride, I felt light. I’d forgotten the past and didn’t care about the future.
Her green eyes locked on me from the edge of the crowd. I pointed to the VIP section upstairs, silently asking. She shook her head.
“Enjoy,” I mouthed before turning toward thestaircase.
The couches upstairs were empty; the guests partied throughout the building, most of them beyond drunk. Open bottles of expensive vodka cluttered the tables. Ilya had told the staff not to clean up. The mess, apparently, was a sign of a good time. I rolled my eyes. Vodka and tea were the two things Russians could consume by the gallon.
I sought out a dark corner of the room, needing to cool down and be alone for a moment. Bow after bow, I untied my heels and kicked them off.
The soft carpet beneath my feet made me curse Ilya for not choosing a stone floor, which I would’ve welcomed more.
Leaning my head back against the wall, I let out a long breath, trying to release the tension and focus on the music. The familiar rhythm brought back memories of all the times I’d used this space as therapy. Still, the cooling effect I hoped for didn’t come. Sighing, I made myself comfortable on the nearest couch.
Laid out flat, glaring at the ceiling, I watched the party lights swirl above me in an explosion of colors. They blurred together, spinning just enough to make my head feel light, maybe even high. But I stared, letting them hypnotize me.
Red. Green. Blue. Purple. Black.
“Do you plan on staring all night?” I asked, my voice cutting through the music like a blade.
Seconds passed before I addressed the man looming above me. I had felt his presence for a while but didn’t move, content to let him reveal his intentions first.
His shadow stretched over me as he leaned closer, his frame teetering dangerously at the edge of the couch. For a moment, I braced for his body to collapse onto mine. Somehow, he held steady, his weight suspended, trapping me beneath the heavy darkness he cast.
I turned my head, finally facing the intruder who looked even less put together than before.
His light brown hair, once neatly styled, was now a ruffled mess, like someone had dragged their hands through the slightly curly strands one too many times. His shirt hung open, more buttons undone than seemed necessary. The scent of strong cologne tangled with cigarettes carried on the air.
Colored ink teased through the damp fabric of his white dress shirt, tempting my thoughts to spiral. My fingers twitched with the urge to rip the fabric away, to shred it apart and see what lay beneath.
“Depends,” he rasped, his voice thick with something dangerous I couldn’t quite place.
“On what?”
The anticipation hung between us, but my pulse remained steady.
“On how long it’ll take to get my fill of you.”
I eyed him, intrigued. It surprised me how quickly he’d sought me out. I was painfully aware this was our first conversation, drunk, high on adrenaline, and surrounded by the lust that poisoned the room. The smoke the DJ pumped out wasn’t laced with anything, but it sure felt like it was.
The game tugged at me, so I played along. “What if it’s years?”
Table of Contents
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