Page 11 of Hunt Me (Dmitriyev Bratva #1)

M ikhail

Ecstasy was alive with energy and excitement as always. Music vibrated throughout, rarely loud enough to dampen the electric hum of conversations and laughter. Happiness pulsed like a drug the moment guests walked through the gilded entrance.

Money flowed freely, the high rollers already enjoying losing a fortune to the house. So much for Sunday being a day of rest or worshipping anything other than a false god.

Less than one year before, my father had stepped down as CEO of Dmitriyev Enterprises and I’d taken the helm.

While there’d been a press release handled by our marketing department, photoshoots with Fortune and Esquire magazines, and a significant increase in the price of stock, the real coronation had been held in private in darkness.

Not with a ridiculous initiation or a bloodletting. Certainly not with acts of violence, but with a cold, quiet understanding that I was the new leader. My respect had already been earned.

My uncle had retired only a few months after leaving the bulk of operations to his children and my father’s. While we were powerful individuals, together we were a force to be reckoned with.

With everyone in good spirits, the Dmitriyev wealth increasing, I should be ecstatic. Unfortunately, I remained in a dark mood. There was no reason other than a feeling continuing to accumulate over the last few weeks. Perhaps the consistent prosperity coming without exhaustive work was the reason.

Something was brewing. I could feel it in my bones, my instinct working overtime.

The arrival of several high-rolling Irish clients would garner consideration even in a typical resort, and I never turned my back on anyone with a brogue accent.

One day, Tristen O’Shaughnessy would make good on his threat to seek revenge for the murder of his brother.

Given I’d felt slighted on that dreadful night two decades before, I was looking forward to the day he reared his ugly head once again. This time, I’d chop it off.

How fitting a portion of the very resort that I controlled was on the grounds of the ancient amusement park. I’d often wondered if the land beneath the concrete slabs was haunted given the number of bodies burned in the raging fire.

As I walked through the doors of the Blackout Club, I stood like a silent voyeur merely observing the neon lights as they illuminated the very debauchery I’d foregone years before.

While there were four nightclubs on the grounds of Ecstasy, the Blackout Club was privileged and private, by invitation only to high rollers and those considered influential.

Club members were dressed accordingly in cocktail dresses and tuxedos, the majority of outfits adorning the stunning women leaving little to the imagination. The club was where secrets were revealed, proclivities were satisfied, and power was wielded.

As I surveyed the activity as I did at least every other night, a curvy blonde turned her face toward me, pursing her blood-red lips to try to draw my attention. She whispered something to her female companion before sauntering in my direction, swaying her hips as if needing no other aphrodisiac.

Until recently, I might have indulged in what she so eagerly offered, but twenty-four hours later, I was still enjoying the memories and images of a luscious and sadly unknown beauty who’d managed to snare the savage beast inside.

Maybe the stunning girl hadn’t thought of me that way, but she’d had little understanding of the hunger I’d fought to control.

Devouring her had been one option. There’d been others including indulging her fantasies of continued domination.

I turned away on purpose, securing the gaze of one of four bouncers who constantly walked the floor area. Security and safety were paramount within my clubs.

He nodded in reply, indicating there were no issues.

“Mikhail.” The blonde wrapped her long, manicured fingers around my arm before I could walk away. She inched in front of me, her smile allowing no room for doubt as to her thoughts.

I studied her coolly, remaining completely emotionless even as she dragged the tip of her tongue across her glossy crimson lips.

She obviously noticed my bland, uncaring expression and for a few seconds acted hurt before placing her hand against my chest. As she fingered my freshly pressed Brunello Cucinelli dress shirt, she leaned forward to try to convince me she was worthy of my attention by highlighting her ample cleavage. “Don’t you remember me?”

My security guard narrowed his eyes and nodded, asking if I needed him to interfere. A tawdry woman I could handle. “Should I?” I vaguely had an inkling that I’d slept with her weeks if not months before, but the memory was distant and nothing notable.

“It’s Candy. We enjoyed a very lovely evening together.”

Of course her name was Candy. The women were all the same, vacuums of air using their sex appeal in hopes of attracting their future extremely wealthy husbands. I did hope plastic surgeons were paid well.

The mystery woman had been entirely different, unassuming while holding her own not only with the asshole who’d dared touch her, but with a man considered a predator.

I admired her greatly for that. Perhaps that’s why my cock was twitching just thinking about requiring her surrender.

I envisioned the perfect angel on her knees with her luscious lips wrapped around my cock.

“I think it’s time for you to return to your friends.”

“But… But wouldn’t you enjoy another night together?” Blondie tipped her head, allowing her fake eyelashes to skim across her cheeks.

“No.” I stepped away from her, ignoring her cry of indignation. I’d learned a long time ago forgetting their names and eventually their faces was in my best interest. How ironic the woman who’d refused to provide her name was the single one I craved discovering.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” the blonde snarled.

“Yes, I am. The sooner you realize that, the better.”

She was still cursing my name as I walked away. Fortunately, she knew not to push the issue. While outwardly I was seen as a gentleman, those who crossed me in any manner knew better.

Perhaps tonight would be quiet, a welcome change. When liquor, the promise of sex, and money were involved, there were usually squabbles. Some were easily handled, a warning given, a guest ushered to the doors after calling them a taxi.

Only a few escalated to the point where I was required to become involved. Rarely were police needed. Maybe I should be thankful tonight was quiet.

I’d walked through every entertainment venue including the restaurants to satisfy the gnawing in my gut. Or perhaps to see if by chance the stunning mystery woman had made a return visit.

No such thing.

I’d checked the suite only after being notified she’d left, even standing over the bed where I’d fucked her.

When I’d pulled her pillow to my face, I’d laughed as my behavior had certainly been unusual since meeting her.

She’d had a fascinating effect on me, which was one reason I had no interest in another woman.

Sighing, I returned to the corridor, heading to my office. She would have no issue finding exactly what she was looking for.

Tonight, I’d soothe the beast by wallowing in money. The thought made me chuckle. I had all the fascinating toys money could buy yet remained unhappy.

My brothers had teased me relentlessly, Kazimir even going as far as to suggest I needed to see a shrink. They were perfectly content living the playboy life, basking in the thrill of being eligible bachelors.

There wasn’t a woman under fifty who wouldn’t agree to marriage with either one. Money and sex were often fused together, especially in town where there was such an extreme divide between the rich and poor.

After walking into my office, I grabbed a bottle of water from the bar refrigerator before sitting behind my desk.

I flipped open the lid of my laptop, immediately typing in my secure code.

While I wasn’t the CFO, I’d been taught a long time ago never to take my eye off the ball for even one second.

That’s when disaster or betrayal struck.

Everyone knew I was a hands-on CEO. Even my father, a man who rarely offered a single compliment, had clapped me hard on the back, stating he was proud of me.

I pulled open the latest set of financials, initially gazing at the bottom line before digging into assets. Profits were up significantly.

Owning a billion-dollar business certainly had its perks, hard work and due diligence often taking years to achieve. Some said business ventures were the measure of a man. Maybe so, but I also appreciated the underlying reason for our wealth and success.

The very reason for being top dogs in the city.

And it had little to do with hard work.

I navigated to our stock portfolio, the snapshot provided by our team of financial advisors.

I sat back, drumming my fingers on the desk.

As an eighteen-year-old enforcer, if anyone had told me I’d be fighting wars with hackers, security experts, attorneys, accountants, financial advisors, and marketing experts, I would have laughed in their face.

And potentially beaten them to a pulp afterwards.

But here I was, a man who’d graced the covers of Fortune magazine as well as People , losing out to Liam Hemsworth as the sexiest man alive. I’d found it comical. Women found it irresistible.

The knock on the door drew me out of what suddenly felt like drudgery. I closed the lid as one of my lead security personnel walked in.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Dmitriyev, but Sergio asked if I’d come find you.”

“What’s going on?” If Sergio asked for my help, there was a situation that likely had little to do with the casino.

“One of the high rollers managed to steal almost six hundred thousand from the house. Caught him just before he left the premises. He managed to beat up one of the security men in the process.”