Page 7

Anatoly

Fuentes gets here within five minutes; the fucker walks into the office, looking around the room. He shakes his head and glares at me, gathering his brows.

“Kravtsov, what the hell? You have my man tied up? What’s going on,” Fuente growls, standing tall, and lifts his chin.

“Denis, take Jose to the storage room so I can talk to Fuentes,” I order, looking at Fuentes.

Denis grabs Jose, pulls him out of the office, and closes the door.

“Start talking,” Fuentes huffs and stares at me.

“Someone was hacking into the Bratva’s system, and I traced it back here. Someone was trying to hack into our system, and it was here at the club. Is it you,” I snarl, curling my lip.

“No! It’s impossible. I don’t have a reason to do that. I don’t know much about hacking or IT, but don’t these hackers use lots of ways to avoid detection? Don’t they cover up their tracks using different locations and networks? Someone must be trying to set me up,” Fuentes says, raising his brow.

“Da, Da. It appears that someone is setting you up, but I’m going to look into it and pray that you’re not fucking setting a trap,” I hiss, pointing my Glock.

Fuentes shakes his head, and he looks straight into my eyes. He’s not sweating, ignores my Glock, and not fucking backing down. He has some fucking big balls.

“I’m working straight with you, Anatoly. I won’t do something that would jeopardize our fragile alliance,” Fuentes hisses.

“What the fuck? Alliance,” I growl, shaking my head.

“Si, an alliance to work together to protect our interests. Why would I save your life if I didn’t have good faith,” Fuentes says in a low voice.

Fuck!

He has a point, so I’m going to take the leap of faith, but if he’s fucking setting a trap, I’m coming after him.

“I’m going to take your word because you’ve given me no reason to doubt you, but I’ll come after you if I learn otherwise,” I hum, putting my Glock back into my holster.

“Si, you do that. Why don’t you go into the club and have a drink,” Fuentes says, nodding.

“Okay, I’ll have a drink,” I say.

“Fantastic. Let me take you to my VIP booth. We can have a drink and relax,” Fuentes says, waving his hand.

“Da, give me a minute,” I hum, nodding, and slide my Glock into my holster.

I slide my fingers on the screen of my cell to text my Soldiers, Pakhan and Brat.

“Okay, let’s get the drink,” I huff, sliding my cell into my suit jacket pocket.

“Si, follow me. You’re going to like Fuego Club. It’s a hot place; the grand opening was a couple of months ago. It’s a popular club with young adults, yeah, those crazy college kids,” Fuentes says, tilting his head and walking out of the office.

I don’t respond, and I look around as we walk down the hall, taking in everything. We walk out of the back office area, which is separate from the main club area. We enter another hallway that looks busy. The guards are stationed at the entrance of the hallway that leads to the restrooms and monitor the club from the back.

I look around, and it looks like any typical club, with a dark interior, red lights, chrome, glass, and black velvet sitting areas, tables, and chairs. The bar is packed with eager young college kids, and we walk up the stairs to the closed-off VIP level. Fuentes walks over to a big sitting area in the corner, sort of secluded, more private, and takes a seat.

The petite Mexican Barista walks over immediately to take our orders. She has long dark hair and huge dark eyes, and she smiles at us.

“Senor Fuentes,” Barista hums, holding a tablet.

“Carmen, bring us the Grand Patron Platinum and top-shelf Vodka. Bring us salsa, chips, and mix fajitas,” Fuentes says, leaning back into the booth and resting his arm across the back.

“Si, I’ll bring you the drinks, and the food will be a few minutes,” Carmen says, smiling.

She looks at Fuentes with sparkling eyes and tosses her long hair over her shoulder. She turns and walks away. Of course, Fuentes stares at her ass.

“Kravtsov, let’s get this alliance cemented in good faith with clear intentions from here on out. My Boss Oro is a crazy son of bitch, a bastard. I want to make our association run smoothly, no fucking games. I don’t want any issues with Bratva.”

“Da, I get it, but everything that’s happened around you, your club doesn’t give great unicorn vibes,” I say, raising my brow.

“Si, it’s unfortunate that some cabron is fucking with us, and that means they want us to have issues,” Fuentes hums, rubbing his scuff and narrowing his eyes, looking at the dance floor deep in thought.

“Here you go,” Carmen says, holding a tray.

She places the bottles, glasses, salsa, and chips on the table.

“Gracias,” Fuentes hums, staring at her boobs.

She smiles at Fuentes and walks away.

Fuentes pours the drinks, and he hands me a glass of vodka.

“Someone is fucking with us, and I don’t like it. The bastardos want us apart, but I don’t know who knows about our alliance,” Fuentes hums, taking a drink.

“Bastardos, as in bastards?”

“Si.”

“Da. Fuck, that could be the case, but I’m going to look for the motherfucker that’s fucking with us,” I hiss, taking a drink of the vodka.

“Si, we need to get to the bottom of this,” Fuentes says, grabbing a chip

He dips it into the salsa and takes a bite, nodding.

“This shit is good, try it, Kravtsov.”

“Da.”

I grab some chips and dip them in the salsa. The shit is fucking hot, but I like it. My mouth is on fire, fuck.

The cell phone beeps, and Fuentes pulls it out of his suit jacket pocket. He looks at the message and grinds his molars.

“I got to go; the Boss is calling. Stay and enjoy the club. I’m sending you the code to the room I have here in the club in case you need it,” Fuentes smirks, sliding his fingers over the screen.

My cell beeps, and I look at it.

“Got it.”

“The room is located on this floor. Go through that door in the corner, down the hall to the last door.”

“Thanks.”

“Si, no worries. So, keep me in the loop,” Fuentes says, looking at me and raising his brow.

“Da, I’m going to keep you close,” I huff.

I lean forward, taking a taco from the plate full of tacos the barista has placed on the table.

“Later,” Fuentes says, sliding out of the booth. He stands for a minute to adjust his suit jacket and walks away.

I look around the club and lean back into the booth, enjoying the food.

I take a drink and set the glass on the table. I look at the dance floor, and then I see her, the angel from the hospital.

Georgina.

I will never forget her or her name. And she’s here, dancing with her friends.

Da, I got her.

I take a sip of my drink, watching Georgina dance. She moves so damn sensual, moving to the beat of the Mexican music; her long, dark silky, shiny hair swings around her ass with every movement. I look at her tight body; she has some curves in all the right places.

I shift and slide my hand to adjust my hard, aching cock. It’s fucking incredible how worked up she has me.

I’m going to talk to her and get her number, but I really want her. I want her under me, yelling my name as I sink deep inside her.