Page 18

Later that evening, I got ready for a dinner that I didn't want to fucking go to in the first place.

I got dressed in a short silver skirt with a furry off-the-shoulder top and black heels.

I accessorized with silver jewelry and a pearl necklace—wearing my brown hair in natural waves.

And as soon as I sprayed myself with my favorite perfume, I grabbed my phone deciding to text Sevan.

Or send her a picture specifically.

One of me in the mirror, putting my full body on display.

I watched as the texts sent through, navigating to her contact that I suddenly felt the need to change.

I changed her name to just an S—deciding that her full name was too detailed.

Mostly because we're not supposed to be texting like this in the first place.

And the executioners really are as fucking nosy as Sevan said.

I suddenly glanced down to my phone that buzzed once.

I rolled my eyes at her text—knowing almost exactly what she wanted from me.

So I adjusted my top lower, emphasizing my chest as I flipped the camera and took a picture.

My collarbone lined with jewelry gleamed under the dim lighting—the curve of my breasts outlined so perfectly.

I smirked slightly, noticing the typing bubbles appear almost as soon as I sent the picture.

*S hearted an image*

Amusement grew on my face as I began typing a response back.

I watched as the typing bubbles immediately appeared before two texts buzzed through.

I clenched my jaw, shaking my head as I began typing again.

I let out a deep sigh, backing out of my bathroom as I watched the typing bubbles appear before my phone buzzed yet again.

I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to answer her message as I locked my phone—walking out of my room as my heels clicked precisely under me.

And as I descended the stairs, I adjusted my short skirt that had ridden up slightly.

Although, my attention quickly snapped to Arina who approached me as soon as I made it to the bottom of the stairs.

She looks mad.

"You took flowers away," Arina said with a narrowed look.

I shrugged, "I donated them," I told her as Nikolai naturally approached me with Ivan to escort me outside, "There's no need for so many flowers," I said, knowing they took up every square inch of the lower level.

The different nearby shelters will appreciate them more.

"But I liked them—they smell nice," Arina said, noticeably upset by the removed flowers.

I didn't realize she liked them so much.

"I keep that in mind next time," I said, knowing that Sevan would most likely send more when she realized I had them removed.

Arina only rolled her eyes and turned away from me, walking down the hallway before I had a chance to say anything else.

Rude.

I shook my head, turning to Ivan and Nikolai—who already held my black fur coat out for me.

"Too cold not to wear one," Nikolai said as he helped slide the fur up my arms.

I nodded once, "My favorite weather," I determined, as I pulled the fur coat closed around my body—walking beside Nikolai and Ivan out of the compound.

The driver immediately got out of the car as soon as we made it outside, opening the back door of the Maybach so I could slide in, leaving my right-hand men behind.

I relaxed in the cushioned backseat, preparing my usual glass of vodka and a Xanax.

Which soothed my nerves during the short car ride to the nearby Restaurant.

Caviar House was packed as usual when I arrived, exiting the Maybach as soon as my driver opened the back door.

The hostess was already alerted of my expected presence, immediately taking me over to Daria and Nazara's table.

Where they sat with cocktails already in hand.

"Koslov," Nazara spoke first, sliding further down in the booth, which meant she wanted me beside her.

Daria remained put, sipping on her cocktail as I sat down beside Nazara.

"I like this fur," Nazara said, running her hand up my arm.

Which earned a narrowed look from me, slipping the jacket off so she would keep her hands to herself.

"And I like staying home for dinner," I purposely said back, picking up one of the menus to read.

"Oh no you'll love the food here," Daria said as she sat her glass down.

Nazara hummed, "It's very good," she said, her dark eyes still managing to stay glued to me.

I pursed my lips together, nodding once without a response.

"The Annual Gala is coming up," Daria spoke again when I remained silent.

Nazara nodded, "Only a couple of months," she said, making more conversation.

I still remained silent, glancing over the menu.

"Cortez is also holding an event here this Saturday," Daria added as she lifted her glass to take another sip, "You should come."

I lazily raised my brow, "I have plans," I mumbled, deciding I would rather do anything than attend an event I'm not even required at.

I hate having to sit around people who love talking about themselves for hours on end.

"You don't have plans," Nazara said, her tone as calm as ever, sipping on her dark cocktail, "We invited you somewhere so you come."

I clenched my jaw, parting my lips to say something that would give them both a fucking reality check.

But our waiter had already approached us.

"I want martini," I immediately said before the man could speak, already needing a strong amount of alcohol in my body to put up with these two irritating women, "And the caviar pasta," I added, briefly reading over the menu.

The man nodded, glancing over to Daria when she began telling him her order.

And then Nazara went, specifying the most random things to be out of her dish.

I think I would rip my hair out if I had to spend more than two hours in their presence.

Especially when all Daria could talk about is the shallowest of things.

Like her upcoming tailor appointment—or what botox filler she could get next.

Nazara discussed other random topics, like upcoming travels or the event that I'm apparently attending this Saturday.

I quite literally just sat there silently, sipping on my dirty martini as I let them talk about themselves.

It's what I always did and people love it.

They're too self-absorbed not to.

But eventually, my head was starting to fucking ache from Daria's high-pitched voice that scratched the worst parts of my head, and then Nazara going on about small event details.

On top of that, the food had yet to come out.

So I decided to go to the bathroom and hide in there for maybe ten minutes, hoping that the food would be out by the time I was back.

I hummed in approval at my reflection in the mirror, eyeing my lips that I had traced with my usual lip liner and reapplied my lip gloss to.

It had officially been eleven minutes.

And I can't find it fucking in me to go back out to that table.

Leaving doesn't sound like that bad of an idea either.

Sevan said to go, and I technically did.

That should be enough listening to satisfy her.

I suddenly glanced past my reflection, noticing the bathroom door open.

And Nazara walk in.

Blyat.

There goes my plan for leaving.

"Hiding?" Nazara asked me with an amused smile as I turned around to face her.

I lazily raised my brows, "Caught me," I mumbled with a bored sigh, slipping my lip products back into my purse.

But I still didn't miss the way Nazara subtly locked the bathroom door.

"I prefer to be locked in room with anyone else," I purposely said, walking past her.

At least until Nazara slid in front of the bathroom door that she leaned against, eyeing my frame.

"Me too," she said, glancing up to meet my light eyes, "But you have a reputation that I wanted to see for myself."

I raised a brow, analyzing the way she glanced down to eye my chest.

"You don't fraternize, and I don't like shallow women," I said, even if her shallowness didn't necessarily matter.

I've fucked plenty of shallow women.

It's what makes them so desperate.

"No, Koslov—you have it all wrong," Nazara said, her voice softer and in the lightest whisper, "Think of us executioners as advisors. We only oversee Cortez."

I glanced down when she grabbed my wrist and pulled me into her body—surrounding me in nothing but her strong Chanel perfume.

"Cortez leads the underworld directly, so she has to keep her relationships professional at all times," Nazara said, guiding my hands up her body to her full breasts, which naturally made me draw in a restrained breath, "We can fraternize with whoever we want because we don't oversee any of them—we don't have to remain impartial."

I hummed tightly as soon as Nazara squeezed her hands over mine, naturally cupping her soft breasts.

Which easily sent me into fucking spiral.

What can I say?

I like women.

Their smooth thighs, the softness of their touch, and the way their moans hit the most perfect octave.

I've been deep in since the girls in middle school started wearing bras and tighter clothes.

"Yes, we check in on syndicates and handle business—but we don't hold her power," Nazara whispered, subtly leaning closer to me, "Still, I want you to fuck me like I have all the power in the world, Koslov."

I clenched my jaw, staring into her dark eyes as she let go of my hands.

That naturally remained put, squeezing her breasts through her blouse.

Which made Nazara smirk slightly, reaching down to unbutton her dress pants.

Sevan's going to kill her, but maybe that's what I want.

Nazara is irritating to me anyway.

Besides my fingers are twitching to be buried in the warmth of a woman.

Even if it was specified to keep my hands to myself tonight.

She should know me well enough to know I would never listen.

I hummed in approval as soon as Nazara moaned so fucking desperately.

And I had only run my hands down her body, yet to even touch her.

"I fuck you then I leave—dinner is concluded," I specified, deciding to use this to my advantage.

Nazara immediately nodded, "Fuck me rough enough, and anything can be concluded," she breathed out, watching as I played with her waistband.

"Turn around then," I murmured, taking a step back from her.

And almost immediately, Nazara submitted to my demands and turned around, pressing her cheek into the door as I roughly tugged her pants down.

I didn't bother pulling her underwear down, I just slid them to the side and gripped her hips so she would arch properly for me.

And as soon as I had my fingers running across her slick folds—I knew we were both going to meet an unfortunate fate.

Sevan won't just fuck Nazara's life up, but she'll make sure to even out the stakes with me.

I prefer my malyshka jealous though.

It's cute on her.

So I fucked Nazara exactly how she asked me.

Rough.

So rough that she had to cover her own mouth since I didn't bother to.

I didn't mind letting the entire restaurant know that she was desperate enough to get fucked by me in a bathroom.

But given how far down the bathroom was in the hallway, it was apparent no one heard.

You could only tell by how weirdly Nazara walked and her flushed face.

I almost wanted to laugh, especially with how Daria watched us approach the table.

Nazara had to carefully slide into the booth, visibly sore from tightening her legs so much when I was inside of her.

But Daria almost didn't look shocked by her obvious flushed face and frizzy hair, so I knew she was somewhat aware of either Nazara's intentions with me or that she had a reputation for sleeping with associates.

Either way, it wasn't my concern— I only grabbed my things and immediately left the boring dinner before I could be sucked back in.

I didn't even bother bringing my food to go.

I just walked out of the restaurant to the chauffeured car and slid in as the driver held my door open for me.

And as soon as I was settled in the backseat of the car with a lit cigar—I unlocked my phone and navigated to a certain contact.

Her contact specifically.

The line rang a few times, and this time I didn't bother counting how many times as I calmly exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"Hi malyshka," I murmured as soon as the line clicked, my lips twitching up slightly.

"Zinovia," Sevan said in response, "Tell me how dinner was," she said, not bothering to skip over the small talk.

I hummed as I took another puff of the cigar, "Very good—I decided to leave early," I said, exhaling another cloud of smoke, "I only had to fuck Nazara first."

The line remained silent for a few unmeasurable moments as I continued to calmly smoke my cigar.

But the longer she was silent, the more satisfied I grew.

"I told you hands to yourself baby," Sevan calmly said, and I could suddenly hear the clatter of glass.

She's pouring herself a drink.

Good, I've irritated her.

"She was begging for it," I sighed, flicking my cigar in the ashtray, "Really, you should've heard her, she was very loud—"

"I'll be back in Moscow tomorrow," Sevan cut me short, her voice still as calm as ever, which felt concerning, to say the least, "We'll discuss the details of this then."

I hummed, "Are you mad malyshka?" I murmured, a smirk growing on my lips as I continued to smoke my cigar.

"Not as mad as you're about to be," Sevan said in response.

And before I could respond, the line had clicked and the call ended.

Which left me with a faded smirk and furrowed brows, lowering my phone as I tried to calculate her next move.

But one thing about Sevan is that she's really fucking unpredictable.

At least Nazara is off my back.

Yes, I like pushing Sevan's limits and I also enjoy the feeling of touching certain depths inside of women.

But fucking Nazara also meant that she won't begin to assume I'm with Sevan.

If tonight was a test then I damn sure passed.