Page 18 of Hunt Me (Dmitriyev Bratva #1)

B ristol

Whap. Whap. Whap.

With every savage hit of my boxing glove against the bag, I pictured Mr. Jenkins’ face.

Granted, I wasn’t certain if I was angrier with him or just annoyed with my father. The more I’d thought about it, the more I realized my dad knew everyone in town. This was his first stint as being mayor, but he’d served on several city-wide committees over the years.

To say my father was influential was like stating the Pope was Catholic.

Maybe I was overthinking things, but it would appear my father’s rather unyielding reputation had prevented me from getting hired. Either way, I wasn’t a happy girl. Soon, I’d need to make some tough decisions.

Whap. Whap. Whap.

Three more brutal hits. I threw my arms down, cursing under my breath.

Another day of bullshit.

Another day of being turned down.

What was worse was that another firm had confirmed they were hesitant to hire me because of my father and his position. The nice yet plastic employee director hadn’t come out directly making such a bold statement, but I could certainly read between the lines.

I’d been blacklisted.

Why? Was my father some bad seed or were they worried I was working some hidden agenda? Maybe his thoughts on a special commission had already leaked. It didn’t really matter at this point. I had few options and my irritation was exploding off the charts.

Then there were the nagging thoughts and emotions about Mikhail and his family that I couldn’t get rid of.

My father was definitely planning on targeting the Dmitriyev regime.

While waiting to pay for my groceries, I’d noticed Mikhail was on the cover of the premier Las Vegas magazine, the one that highlighted all aspects of wealth and power, glitz and glamor.

He’d appeared even sexier than two nights before. Photographed in his office, he’d looked completely at ease with being the target of attention. Even more impressive than the picture had been the caption.

The Power Behind Revitalization in Las Vegas

That said it all, including how highly respected he was.

Just glancing at the article for all of three minutes had provided me with a decent understanding of the Dmitriyev holdings. The family members, including an uncle and cousins, were considered some of the richest and most powerful men in the world.

I closed my eyes briefly, allowing yet one more image of the man to pop into my mind.

There was definite bad blood between my father and Mikhail’s family. Did I even want to learn why?

Nope.

Would my father do something so despicable as to try to control my life? Maybe I was just looking for someone to blame. Maybe both my father and my professor were right. I was too squeaky clean. Was that really such a bad thing?

I swung in a full circle, using an axe kick against the thick canvas. Then I issued several brutal punches before taking several strides away from the swinging bag.

While I paced, I grumbled, which was what I’d been doing for thirty minutes. I was on fire tonight, working up a tremendous sweat, yet the anger wasn’t subsiding, instead seething inside.

With a brutal grunt, I kicked the bag again, only to swing around and slam my foot into the center. The chain holding the bag in place creaked from the force.

I stomped my foot like some kid throwing a tantrum and started pacing again as I rolled my arm across my forehead. Perspiration continued to trickle down both sides of my face. The exertion wasn’t relieving the pressure. Maybe I needed to switch tactics and suck down a glass of wine or three.

Binge watching The Last of Us might be on the agenda.

Just before I was ready to rip the laces on my boxing gloves with my teeth, I threw another battery of brutal punches, all the while wishing the bag was some corrupt shithead who’d dared cross my path.

One professor had dared warn me I was too good for the law.

I’d resisted laughing in his face mostly because I couldn’t understand his sentiment. How could anyone be too good?

Now I had a better understanding of his warning.

Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap!

“Wow. You’re pissed.”

Cringing, I caught the bag in my hands before it pummeled either me or my sister to the mat. “Yeah, maybe so.”

“An everyday occurrence. You’ve been in a bad mood since you came back home.

” Callie peered at me, her nose wrinkled.

I was a sweaty mess with my hair in a ponytail while she was dressed to the nines in a crimson mini-dress, her hair perfectly coiffed and smelling like a thousand bucks.

I adored my sister, but we were exact opposites.

“Not an everyday occurrence.” Although she was right.

“You need to get laid. You’ve been on a year-long dry spell.”

My laugh sounded entirely different than a few days before. “Not necessarily.” I flashed her a grin.

“Oh, my God. You met someone at the wedding. Didn’t you?” Callie squealed, clapping her hands.

Shrugging, I pulled one of the laces on my glove with my teeth and she gave me a stern look. “I can do it myself. I’ve learned to be very self-sufficient.”

“You’ll break your teeth that way. Who did you meet? Come on. Fess up.” She unlaced both gloves, jerking them off and tumbling backwards as she did. She laughed. “Maybe I need to take up kickboxing.”

“Maybe you should.”

With her arms folded, she tapped her foot on the floor. “Come on. You can’t hide anything from me.”

She was right about that. In fact, she’d been the little tattletale when we were kids, using the four-year difference between us to her advantage. She had our father wrapped around her little finger.

“Fine. I did meet someone. He was… The moment was… Incredible.”

“Wow. I’ve never seen you like this.” She studied me and inched closer. “Did you hook up with one of the Dmitriyev brothers?”

“How do you know about them?”

“I have eyes. Did you see the People magazine article on Mikhail? Holy hell in a handbasket.”

“You’re incorrigible and I’m not saying anything.” I mimed zipping my lips.

Her eyes flew open wide. “You did hook up with one of them. Wow. That’s incredible. Hell, I’d tried to cozy up to one of them a couple years ago and struck out.”

“Callie! You’re the regular Miss Goody Two-Shoes. They play rough and dirty.” I couldn’t help teasing her.

“Very funny. I’m not that na?ve little girl any longer. Just exactly how do you know they play rough and dirty?”

Shrugging, all I could do was wink.

“You’re so bad and I’m so glad you came back home,” Callie admitted. “So who was it?”

“I’m not telling you because if I do, you’ll blast the news all over the city. Just do me a favor and don’t tell Mom or Dad a thing.”

Callie gave me a hard look. “Let me guess. Dad mentioned his great commission. Right?”

“How do you know about it?”

“He even tried to get me to work for him as the marketing guru of the platform, including social media. Oh, hell, no.”

“Why does he have it out for the Dmitriyev family?”

“I don’t know. Who hasn’t heard the rumors, but they have the entire state in the palms of their hands. Every successful business is due in part to something they did, or an investment of cold, hard cash.” Callie flicked her long hair behind her ear. “Plus, they’re hot.”

“You have a boyfriend.”

“I know,” she said in a little singsong voice.

At least after the shitty day I’d experienced, thoughts about my mystery man could still provide a little thrill.

As she shrugged her shoulders, I flashed a grin. Since reaching twenty-one, she’d been the party girl while I’d remained the studious one. There were days I couldn’t believe we were actually sisters.

“Even if you won’t tell me who you hooked up with, that is still so damn sexy. Russians are to die for. Are you going to see him again?”

I laughed and started unwinding the tape around my hands. “We agreed no strings. Plus, I didn’t actually tell him my name.”

“Don’t you think he can find out who you are since you were a freaking bridesmaid?”

“I doubt a man like that has time to investigate the poor yet sinful girl he’d dominated in bed.”

She squealed again.

“I knew you had a bit of the bad girl in you. About damn time,” she purred, wagging her finger. “Now, the real question is, was it hot?”

“As a roaring fire.”

“Was his dick huge?”

“Callie!” I burst into embarrassed laughter. “You’re terrible.”

My sister shrugged, her evil grin making me think about him and his massive cock all over again. “Big dicks are hugely important.”

“In your world, maybe. Now, what are you doing in the gym? Your idea of exercise is moving off the couch to the refrigerator.” I was teasing her since she had the perfect body and could eat anything she wanted.

If I didn’t do kickboxing and try to stay away from Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, I’d be a house.

“Now, look who’s terrible.”

Moving in with my sister had been quick and easy, allowing me to avoid paying extra money for a deposit and first and last month’s rent that I didn’t have. While the apartment community was pricy, the exercise facilities were spectacular. “So you keep telling me. Your turn to confess.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Okay, I need a favor.”

“You do, huh?” I tossed the tape into the trash, flexed my hands, and grabbed my bottle of water.

“Can you take my last Door Dash run tonight? Pretty please with sugar on top?” She rose onto her toes, her entire body cringing as she begged with her big, baby blue eyes.

“Ugh. This is my day off.” Not that it had felt that way.

“I said pretty please.”

She’d gotten every wish just by using the term as a kid.

“What’s the reason?”

“Like you reminded me. I have a boyfriend. Jason is coming into town unexpectedly from his business trip and needs to see me. Note the emphasis on needs.” She grinned from being ecstatic, shaking her fists like pompoms. Since day one, I’d taken bets on how long their relationship would last.

It was a good thing I wasn’t a gambler. I’d be in the poor house.

“You do not think he’s going to ask you to marry him.” Please say no. Please say no.

“We’re not that serious, sis. But living together? Maybe. He’s been hinting around about it.”

Living together. I put the pieces together and my day had just gotten much worse. They certainly wouldn’t want a third wheel messing up their love nest. Whether she moved in with Jason or vice versa, I could be out of a place to stay or forced to cover the entire rent within a couple of weeks.

A deep exhale slipped past my lips before I could stop the ugly sound. There was no mistaking when I was frustrated or unhappy.

“I’ll let you borrow my red sweater. Plus, I haven’t seen him in two weeks. I’m dying without him.”

“You’re not dying,” I said, laughing. I absolutely hated the Door Dash runs. The tips had allowed me a little freedom, but you never knew what craziness was being requested. Callie loved it.

“I’ll owe you big time.”

I grabbed my towel. “What is the run?”

“Don’t worry. He’s a regular. Always orders pizza from Sal’s and has me deliver.”

“Don’t most pizza places have a delivery service?”

She shrugged, which meant she wasn’t telling me everything. “His house is a little further out. They won’t deliver to him.”

“Callie.”

“Come on. He’ll get pissed if I ask someone else, but you’re my sister. I think he’s very private and it’s obvious he’s rich as sin. You should see his house.”

“You’ve been in his house.”

“The entrance foyer. I also think he’s a bit lonely.”

“Wait a minute. Does he come onto you?”

“Not really. At least since we started talking and I shared I had a boyfriend. He’s a nice, rich guy and tips extremely well.

” She was practically jumping up and down.

“Please, sis. Jason asked me to meet him at a fancy restaurant and everything. Then we’re going dancing afterward. Isn’t that so awesome?”

All I’d wanted was a quiet night to regroup. However, I’d never been able to say no to my baby sister. “Ugh. I cannot believe I’m letting you talk me into this. I’ll do it.”