by Monroe, Evie
“What happened to you, yesterday?” Drake asked, punching my shoulder as I sat down.
“I had a hot date with your mother.”
“Cut it out,” Cullen said, glaring at me.
I gave him an apologetic look—hell, I was only ten minutes late this time, not my usual half hour. So I was early, if he thought about it that way.
“Now that we’re all here, we can get things started.”
That was odd. Usually, when I was late, they carried out business without me. He stood up and pressed his palms flat on the table. “We’re taking out the Fury once and for all.”
Hart’s eyes lit up. Jet pumped his fist. “Fuck yeah.”
“What happened? We voted on this?” I asked, looking around at the other guys. This all looked like news to them. What the fuck was going on?
Cullen shook his head.
Drake leaned behind him and opened the fridge. He grabbed a few beers, one of which he tossed to me. “We voted against taking them out until we had more intel. Didn’t make sense since we didn’t have the numbers.”
I flipped off the top on the side of the table and regarded our president. “Yeah. Last I heard you wanted to wait. Why the change?”
“You overruling our vote, boss?” asked Nix.
Cullen shook his head and smiled mysteriously. “Let’s just say that I got a call from an associate. And the numbers have changed.”
We all stared at him, waiting for more information. Hart asked the question that was on everyone’s mind. “Who’s this associate of yours?”
Without warning, the garage door at the back of the clubhouse roared open. A man in a suit stood there, wearing dark sunglasses.
I almost laughed. I never thought dicks in suits were half as cool as they thought they were. This guy was built like a brick shit house, though.
He walked closer, and as he came into view, I saw thick arms, a thick neck . . . fucking thick everything. He wasn’t tall, but he was huge.
He set his briefcase down on the table, pulled off his sunglasses, and regarded us all with cold eyes. “I am Viktor.”
The accent gave it away. Holy hell, it was like I was dealing with more Russian people these days than Americans.
Nix asked the question before I could. “Russian?”
Cullen nodded, a smug smile on his face. “Our Russian connections put us in contact with Viktor, here. He specializes in problem-solving.”
“Problem solving? Seriously? How the hell did our Russian connections get involved in this?” I asked. In terms of our business, our Russian connections were good people. We boosted the cars, and they had a never-ending need for them. We supplied, and they paid, on time and well.
But why the fuck were they getting involved in our war with the Fury?
Cullen sat down and nodded at Viktor. “You see, Viktor’s guys don’t want us in a turf war. It’s bad business. We spend all our time fighting the Fury; we don’t have time to lift the cars. And if the Fury kicks us out of commission, it’ll be even worse for the Russians. So he’s here to end it.”
“So wait . . .” Jet said, stroking his baby chin. “They sent us one guy to end the war? One?”
Cullen nodded.
He laughed. “Un-fucking-believable. That’s like putting a fucking Band-Aid on cancer.”
Cullen shook his head. “He specializes in things like this. And the best part?” Cullen gave us all a wicked smile. “The Fury won’t see him coming. They know all of us, which makes it hard. Viktor can get in there and fuck them up before they even know what’s hit them.”
I studied the man as he removed his sunglasses to show dark eyes. Short clipped hair, a brow permanently narrowed in suspicion. He looked like a purebred Russian mafia, full of superiority and bravado. In his suit and tie, he clearly thought a lot of himself. I wanted to knock him down a peg.
“So, Viktor . . . what can you do? Walk on water? Jump tall buildings in a single bound?”
He glanced over at me, not even amused. Shit, had this guy ever smiled in his life?
He gritted his teeth and said in a thick Russian accent, “I think you should show a little appreciation, mudak. Because I’m here to clean up your mess.”
I didn’t know what the fuck he’d called me, but whatever it was, it didn’t sound like a good thing.
I pushed back my chair hard and rose to my full height, a few inches taller than him. We stood there, inches apart, breathing hard, each daring the other one to blink first. The tension in the room spiraled out from us.
“Zain,” Cullen hissed, urging me to stand down. I turned to him. From the look on his face, I knew exactly what he was thinking. Garbage duty, for the rest of the year. Shit.
Yeah, we had to make nice. Yeah, the guy was supposed to be on our side. But that didn’t mean I had to like him. And fuck, I was on Jet’s side with this. What the fuck did Cullen think one man could do? And why couldn’t we take the motherfucking Fury out?
“We’ll see what superman here thinks he can do,” I said, looking away and stepping back from the tension.
My thoughts? Not much. It’d take a hell of a lot more than one big Russian superstar to end the war with the Fury for good. I knew that, and the rest of the Cobras did, too.
Chapter Ten
Sasha
I spent the rest of the weekend masturbating.
Sad to admit for a reserved, well-mannered girl like me, but true.
I had all these grand plans in my head. I’d read one of the books I had waiting next to my bed. I’d clean the apartment. I’d gone shopping and get Alena some of her favorite foods as a surprise for when she came back.
I did some of those things but only half-heartedly.
Most of the time, I kept checking my phone. Almost like a robot. I didn’t go more than thirty seconds without lifting it to see if I had a missed call from Zain. He was on my mind the entire time. Zain, and his massive, delicious, built-for-pleasure cock.
Which was why, in the midst of vacuuming or straightening the kitchen or some other mindless activity, my thoughts would stray to him, buried deep inside me, and my hand would stray under my shorts.
While I was trying to read, it was simply too easy to bring my hand between my legs and start flicking and rubbing. . . and daydreaming.
By Monday morning, after I’d come at least ten—maybe fifteen—times, I started to think I might be turning into a nympho. Even in the shower, as I was getting ready and promising myself I’d control my urges, I wound up pointing the stream of water from the shower massage on my clit and pinching my nipples while thinking about the way Zain had looked at me while he licked at my pussy.
The sad part was, I kept doing it, even though I was missing something.
Something vital.
The man.
And there was only one man on my mind right now.
Unfortunately—or fortunately—he hadn’t called me. It was both a good and a bad thing. A good thing, considering Viktor. A bad thing, considering my pussy was aching for him.
After another orgasm, I stepped out of the shower, feeling satisfied—yet guilty. I toweled off and slipped into a professional blouse, skirt and heels. I coiled my hair into a bun at the nape of my neck to look sedate and serious.
Not like a total nymphomaniac. At least, I hoped.
I was a mother, for God’s sake. A paralegal at a top firm. Not a porn star. I needed to get myself under control.
As I finished applying my make-up, I looked at my phone. At this hour, I wasn’t expecting a call from Zain. He struck me as the sleep-all-day, party-all-night bad boy type.
But, I was expecting a call from Alena.
I hadn’t spoken to her since Saturday night, and I missed her so much my heart hurt. I thought for sure she’d call before her daddy took her to the daycare.
I was hoping she would call me, so I wouldn’t have to talk to Viktor. But now we were cutting it close, so I decided to bite the bullet and call. He answered, as usual, on the first r
ing. “Solnyshka.”
“Hi, Viktor. Can you put Alena on?”
“She’s already at daycare,” he grumbled.
Already? It was barely seven-thirty. I usually woke her up from bed at seven-thirty. If she went this early, she’d likely be tired by the time I arrived to pick her up. She was only four. It was too long a day for her.
I clicked my tongue. He had her schedule. He should’ve known this.
But I didn’t want a fight like we’d had Saturday morning, rehashing the same things about my bad mothering skills, so I tamped down the argument brewing in my head and said lightly, “Oh, that’s too bad. I’d wanted to say good morning to her.”
“Well, you’re too late.”
No, you’re too early, according to the schedule! I thought, but again, resisted. “I see. How was the zoo?”
“Fine,” he muttered, making me wonder if he’d even gone with her. It was starting to be a habit. Everything with him was always just fine. “We had to cut it short as she wasn’t feeling well.”
My ears perked up. “Oh? Is she okay?”
“Yes, she’s fine now. I’m sure she’ll tell you all about it,” he said, his words coming out in a rush. “I’ve got to go. I have a meeting.”
Probably a stomachache. She always got them when she was with him. I think the stress of being there tangled her stomach into a little ball. I started to say “Okay!” but realized that he’d already hung up on me.
I sighed. Well, at least Alena was okay. I grabbed my purse, locked up the apartment, and ran to my car, wondering if I could ask one of the Simms brothers if I could leave a little early today, since I’d probably get in earlier than all of them if I started out now.
No, that wouldn’t be a good idea. Likely, Marina had already told them how I dodged work last Friday. If I was a good employee, I’d be staying late, like the rest of them, to try to earn that promotion.
Sure enough, when I got to the office at 7:45, I was the first person there. If only those who got to the office early were as well-thought-of as those who stayed late. I flipped on all the lights and powered up my computer, noticing that Sarah had cleaned up the mess I’d left on my desk on Friday. I smiled and made a mental note to buy her lunch at the café sometime this week.
Then I sat down at my workstation and started to go through my email.
I had two hundred emails, all regarding various cases. I loved my job, but today, I felt myself dragging. I went to the coffee station and poured myself a cup, sucking it down even though it burned my tongue.
Back at my desk, I stared at the computer, willing myself to focus.
But my thoughts kept turning to Zain. I wondered, if he called me, could I meet him without Viktor finding out. After all, Viktor had no say over who I saw. And of course, I wouldn’t bring Alena into it. I’d have to ensure her safety first.
After that? All bets were off. I practically salivated at the thought of being in bed with him again.
I crossed my legs tightly and told myself I was not a nymphomaniac.
It was the way Zain looked at me, I realized. Like I was worthy. Like I was sexy. Like he treasured me. Viktor had those cold steel eyes that always regarded me as an object, as something to use for his own gain. I had no other family in this country, and yes, I was lonely and sometimes those nights alone seemed to stretch on forever.
Zain made me feel like a woman, like someone to hold up on a pedestal and adore.
It didn’t mean I was a nympho because I wanted to feel that again.
It meant that I—like everyone else in the world—just wanted to feel loved.
Chapter Eleven
Zain
Viktor took a seat at the table with us, and we all started firing questions at him.
“Where in Russia you from? You work with Maxim and our syndicate over there?” Nix asked.
He gave a curt nod. “Moscow.”
“You here on a visa?” Hart asked.
“No. I’m a U.S. citizen.”
“No shit. How long have you been in the states?” Jet asked.
“Since I was sixteen. Fifteen years.”
“Fifteen? And how come we’ve never run into you before?” Nix again, peppering him with questions.
“I work up and down the coast. Not just here. Syndicate sends me where I’m needed.”
It went on and on, the Cobras treating him like some science project and trying to find out all they could about him.
I couldn’t give two shits. Our Moscow connections must’ve thought we were a bunch of pussies, hanging around with our thumbs up our asses. Sending one fucking guy to clean this up.
It rubbed me the wrong way.
Jet, who was just as pissed off as I was about it at first, now seemed to have warmed to the idea. He grabbed him a beer and asked what kind of heat he was packing. I watched as the guy pulled out a pistol I’d never seen before. Obviously foreign. A couple of the guys whistled.
“Fuck, that’s a pretty piece,” Hart said.
Viktor’s expression didn’t change. Hell, this guy was less emotional than a wall.
“I hope that ain’t all you got,” I muttered, looking at Cullen. “He does know we’re probably up against fifty, sixty guys, right?”
Cullen opened his mouth, but Viktor spoke first. “Of course. You take out the key players, the rest of the club falls like dominos.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure on that.”
He regarded me with a set jaw, his eyes cold. “I am sure.”
“You are?” I looked at him, waiting for him to say more. He didn’t. Talking, showing emotion . . . Russians had no use for any of this.
Well, at least, this Russian didn’t.
I knew one sexy Russian who’d shown a hell of a lot of emotion last night. I sat back down in my chair. “Okay. So what’s your plan then, hotshot?”
Viktor looked at Cullen. Cullen nodded. He leaned forward. “We’ll take them out in their clubhouse. I have friends who know where to find them, and when. We wait until the officers are holding their meeting and launch our attack.”
I stiffened. “Launch our attack? What are we, the fucking Navy Seals?” I snorted. Viktor looked at me but said nothing.
“Look, we’ll talk more about the plan later. Right now, I’m going to go over some of the intel we have on the Fury with Viktor and we’ll get together later this week,” Cullen said.
I was the first one up and out of my seat. I knew we were a small club. A very small club, but to have someone come in here and brown nose Cullen like that really pissed me off. What the fuck were we here for?
I grabbed my helmet and fished my phone out of my pocket, thinking of Sasha. This Russian asshole had me craving my Russian princess.
“Wait, Zain,” Cullen said, catching me before I went out the door.
I turned.
“Hey. Yo. What’s with the attitude?” he asked me, his voice low.
“What do you mean?” I shrugged.
“You know. First last night, not waiting for the vote. Now with Viktor. You got something up your ass you’re not telling any of us about?”
I shook my head. I didn’t feel like reminding him that all this shit was because of me. “All’s good.”
He studied me, in that way he always did when he was trying to see inside us, pull something out of us. That was why he was our president. He may have been tough as nails, but in his own way, he cared.
“Yeah? Well, in that case, I’m really gonna need you to be civil with Viktor. We can’t afford to turn him against us.”
I knew that was coming. “Fine.”
“He turns against us, he turns the whole syndicate against us, and we lose our biggest client. And we still have the Fury to deal with. So just . . . I don’t care if you have to kiss his ass. Do it.”
It wasn’t a suggestion.
“And Zain…”
I groaned inside. I knew what was coming. “Garbage duty?”
He nodded. “Rest of the year.”
>
“All right,” I muttered, pushing open the door and storming outside.
But the last thing I saw? Viktor, sitting there, like a statue. Staring at me. But this time, he had a small, smug smile on his stone face. Not exactly a smile, more like a sadistic leer that said, I’ve got you and your balls right where I want them.
Fuck it all.
Picking up garbage after my brothers was a walk in the park compared to kowtowing to this asshole.
I jumped on my bike, feeling like shit until I realized I had a way to make it feel better.
My Russian princess.
I thought of her, sprawled out on my bed, naked and saying my name in that hot little accent of hers. My cock twitched.
That was just what I needed.
I pulled out my phone and punched in the call.
Chapter Twelve
Sasha
“Oh, Sasha, I’m sorry if all of this goes right over your head,” Marina said, giving me a stupid little sneer as she sipped from her I DON’T DO MORNINGS coffee mug. “We had a meeting late Friday night that you weren’t able to attend, and some of us worked over the weekend to get the details of the case ironed out.”
All heads in the conference room swung in my direction. Even Robert Simms, at the head of the table, regarded me with his mouth in a straight line. Then he said, “I don’t care what had to be done to get this case ready. We’re going to trial in three days. I need to know that it’s where it’s got to be.”
“It is,” Marina said, tapping her pen on her pad and giving me a look that said, “No thanks to you.”
I shuffled uncomfortably in my chair. Then I looked over at Sarah, who was giving Marina the eye-daggers I so desperately wanted to give her. Then Sarah looked over at me, smiled, and rolled her eyes. She mouthed some words I couldn’t quite make out.
I took a sip of my coffee, grimacing at the bitterness of it. Or maybe that was the bile in my throat from my brown-nosing co-worker.
When the meeting ended, I stood to leave. Robert Simms held up his hand, stopping me. “Sasha. Can I see you for a second?”
I swallowed. Here it comes . . .
“Close the door, would you?”