Knocked Up by the Mob Boss: A Dark Mafia Romance (Levushka Bratva)

by Nicole Fox

  “You okay, boss?” Eitan asks.

  “Yeah. Krissy gives me a headache.” I plop down into my chair and rub my temples.

  Eitan laughs. “Girl’s tough. One day, she might be running the business.”

  I snort. “She’s too quick-tempered. She’d do something stupid and have the cops crawling all over the place.”

  Eitan nods solemnly in agreement. “Always start with diplomacy,” he intones. My father’s words. “So, to business. We need to discuss the auction.”

  The auction. Flesh trafficking. A highlight of the yearly calendar for the criminal elements in the city, and a hefty paycheck for the ones in charge—namely, me. When I was a younger man, I used to look forward to the auctions. So much beauty, all for sale to the highest bidder. But this time, I don’t have the same excitement. This time, it’s nothing more than business.

  Opening up the spreadsheet on my computer, I scan through the list of names of those I invited. Those who possess the type of money needed to participate. “Who have you heard from?”

  He begins to rattle off names. “Gino, of course. First one to respond. The Mendoninos. They always splurge. A few assorted businessmen of distinct taste,” Eitan says.

  I turn the monitor towards him and push the keyboard in his direction. “Just check off everyone you’ve spoken with.”

  Eitan taps at the keyboard while I massage away the headache in my temples. When he’s done, I notice over three-quarters of the list have agreed to come. And high rollers as well. This might be the most lucrative year yet. But there’s still too many moving parts that we need to handle.

  “What about the venue?”

  Eitan leans back in his chair and crosses his legs. “Checked it out myself. The downstairs room is very secure, with two emergency exits if we need to get away. Access to the club upstairs. Cops shouldn’t know what’s going on. Staff has been instructed properly; discretion, as always, being the better part of valor. No tolerance for violence on the evening as well.”

  “Good,” I say.

  Thank God for Eitan. The man has been with the Lavrins for a long time, since my father was a boy. He knows the ins and outs of our business as well as I do.

  “What about the girls?”

  Eitan blows out a long breath and runs his hand through the thinning salt-and-pepper hair on top of his head. “The Travoras are managing that aspect of the evening’s operations. They assure me there will be no problems. But …” He raises an eyebrow. “I’ve heard rumors of some struggles on that front.”

  My neck tightens in response to his answer. “What’s the issue?”

  “Supply, as usual. And apparently, some issues with a trade partner in the Eastern European block. There are always the drug addicts and runaways. But the pickings are slim and some of these girls … not worth putting them up on stage,” Eitan says. “I’ve sent men across the border in Canada to see what they can find,” he adds.

  “Good. Just make sure to keep on top of them. Last thing I need is for one of them to fuck up and get the FBI involved.”

  “I’ll station some of the men in the club on the evening of the event. One never knows what may straggle in at the last minute.” Eitan winks and folds his hands in his lap. “There is one last matter I want to address. You have an eager lieutenant, Augustin Molotov, who shows a lot of promise. He’s chomping at the bit for more responsibility.”

  I tap my forefinger to my lips. “Molotov? I think I know the name.”

  “He handled the drug issue with one of Gino’s men last month,” Eitan says.

  “Yes, that’s right. Kid did a good job keeping the peace and getting our money.” I click on the computer screen and open up my calendar. I’m more than happy to delegate some responsibility to those looking for it. “We have the Greeks delivering the weapons shipment next week. Let Augustin handle it. But make sure he understands how we run our business. And make sure he understands the consequences if he fucks up.”

  Eitan nods.

  Weapons shipments aren’t as easy as they look on TV. Something always goes wrong. Forget about the cops; half the time it’s Mother Nature and her moody weather interfering with schedules. And once those schedules fuck up, all the precautions put in place get fucked up as well. Then there’s the seller who always decides to haggle last minute, and of course that just ends with a dead body I have to get rid of.

  “Be on call in case Augustin runs into any issues. The kid hasn’t had to dispose of a body for us yet. First time’s always messy, but there’s no need to reinvent the wheel. You know how we clean up our messes.”

  “Understood.” Eitan stands and pulls on his jacket to straighten it. “Have a good night, Nikita. I’ll keep you updated.”

  “Good night, Eitan.”

  Eitan turns and walks out the door. Finally, some alone time.

  But just as I start to lean back in my chair, there’s yet another knock at the door. These interruptions are putting me in a foul mood.

  “Nikita.” Sophia pokes her head into the office. “May I come in?”

  Sophia is one of my earlier purchases. She wasn’t a runaway or a drug addict. No, she was an abused housewife looking for safety, though I’m still unsure what type of safety she felt a sex auction would offer. She’s smart and drop-dead gorgeous. Even the skintight blue dress that shows off all her assets doesn’t do her justice. And when I laid eyes on her, when I saw the mottled bruises circling her nose, I wasn’t letting anyone else purchase her. And I’m glad I didn’t. It doesn’t hurt that the blonde can suck cock like her life depends on it. And she’s been invaluable at keeping the rest of my harem in line.

  “What do you need?” I’m so tired tonight. Weariness blankets me.

  Sophia steps into the room and closes the door behind her. She’s been with me for the past four years, and for the past three years she’s been in charge of my harem girls. She knows when my door is closed not to bother me, so if she’s poking her head in, something might need my immediate attention.

  “It’s Thursday.” She smiles as she glides toward me, her long tan legs covering the distance fast.

  Fuck.

  “Ah. Right. I completely forgot. Eitan had me so busy with some upcoming business,” I tell her.

  “I figured. You look really stressed.” Sophia stands behind me and runs her hands over my shoulders. “Maybe a quick massage while I update you on the girls?”

  I’m not going to argue with her. My shoulders are tense, and Sophia is a licensed massage therapist, with skilled hands. She’s one of the few in my harem I allow to run a business—as long as I get a cut.

  Sophia’s hands begin kneading my aching muscles and I let out a sigh. She giggles and then gets right to business. “The heat in the room on the third floor isn’t working. Tina mentioned it to Vinny, but he slapped her and never fixed it. I stopped by and the place is freezing. I mean, isn’t part of his job to be the super for any of the apartments the girls are in?”

  “I’ll talk to Vinny.”

  Sophia’s hands travel down my chest, her nails grazing over my nipples. While I’m totally okay with a relaxing massage, sex is out of the question right now. I stir in my chair, attempting to sit up straight.

  “Also, Lori was upset. Cried about how Vinny and Tommy beat some old man up at the little market down the street earlier. She said the old man looked dead.” Sophia leans forward, pressing her ample breasts against my head as her hands extended down my abdomen.

  I cringe. The old man.

  I push myself out of the chair, away from Sophia’s kneading hands, and pace around the room, running my fingers through my hair. Every nerve in my body fires and my blood boils. Fuck. Why couldn’t the old man just pay? Why’d he have to wait until last minute to say anything? But I can’t be weak. Not with everyone looking. I have no fucking choice.

  Sophia walks up to me and presses her body against mine. Her fingernails gently scrape against my scalp as she licks her full lips. “Nikita, you’re s
tressed. Let me take care of you.”

  Her hand runs over my dick and she holds my gaze. But I’m not interested. Not tonight, not with everything going on. Not with an old man—a man who looked to be about my father’s age—lying beat up in the street. “Sophia, not tonight. If there’s anything else about the girls, tell me now. Otherwise, you can go.”

  Sophia yanks her hand back, blinking rapidly as if I just smacked her across the face. She’s not used to being turned down. Especially by me. She takes care of so much for me that a good fucking is the least I can do in return. Out of appreciation, if nothing else. But tonight, God himself could be standing in front of me demanding a hard-on, and I’m just not going to be able to perform.

  “There’s nothing else to report. Have a good night, Mr. Lavrin.” With that, Sophia turns and walks out of the room.

  Mr. Lavrin.

  She knows better than to be openly disrespectful, but she can be subtly spiteful in her own right. She knows just how to walk the line between following my rules and letting me know when she’s angry. I’ll have to buy her something tomorrow and make it up to her. The last thing I need right now, on the eve of the auction, is a mutiny taking place in my bedroom.

  I walk back over to the gin and instead of pouring it into a glass, I put the bottle to my lips and gulp as much of the liquid down as I can, hoping the alcohol will ease my mind. And after a few minutes, it does. At least a little bit.

  But the image of the shopkeeper on my floor still haunts me. I did that to him—I hurt him. I took his money.

  Just like my father taught me.

  Chapter 2

  Annie

  I wrap my hair up in a messy bun, sling my bag over my arm, and head out the glass door of the math building. Finals are over. Thank God. But I’m not as relieved as I’d expected. I’m not sure if that’s because this last accounting final made me nervous or if it was the way the TA ogled me that rattled my nerves. Either way, I’m out of the building and heading home for a nice, relaxing night of binge-watching my favorite medical drama.

  I pull my coat tight around me and brave the heavy winds as I walk toward the apartment building I share with two other girls. I can’t believe I only have one more semester left before I graduate. I swear, I thought school would never end. But my stomach churns at the thought of the real world waiting for me—adult life, a job, responsibilities. Of course, I’ve already met with my career counselor, and I’m lucky enough to have some people in mid-level accounting firms eager to interview me once I graduate.

  But I know not to rest yet. Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, yada yada yada. One step at a time.

  I shrug the strap of my bag higher onto my shoulder and jog across the intersection. On the other side, I see a homeless man leaning against a dirty corner.

  He gives me a broad, toothless smile as I approach. “Good evening, Mizz Thornton,” he says in a raspy voice. “How’d your tests go?” Henry tilts his head and smiles. “You musta done good. You a very smart lady.”

  My cheeks heat at his words. “Thank you, Henry. I think I did well. But I still have to wait and see.” I reach into my bag, pull out half of a turkey sandwich, and offer it to Henry. “I couldn’t finish this with being so nervous about the exam. And I know how much you love turkey and mayo.”

  “Aw, thanks, Mizz Thornton. I truly appreciate your kindness.” Henry smiles wider and takes the sandwich. “You betta hurry along, Ms. Thornton. It’s cold tonight.”

  I frown and stare at Henry for a second. “Promise me you’ll go to the shelter if it gets too cold?”

  “For you, Mizz Thornton, I promise. I don’t wanna see any worry in those pretty brown eyes.”

  I smile and wish Henry a good evening before continuing down the street toward the apartment. Tears fill my eyes when I wonder about who will take care of Henry once I graduate. Most of the college students don’t pay him any attention. Hardly anyone offers to buy him a meal or give him a bottle of water. And once I graduate, I’m leaving the city. Henry will be left by himself.

  I wipe my eyes as I climb the stairs to my building. Swiping the keycard, I push open the door and walk up to the second floor. Please God, I hope Wendy and Jenna are gone. I just want some peace and quiet.

  But no sooner do I turn the key and push open the door than the shrill tone of squealing women floods my ears. At least they’re down the hall. Maybe I can slip into my bedroom without them noticing.

  I carefully close the door and tiptoe down the white hall, avoiding the creaky spot on the left side halfway down. This ain’t my first rodeo. Ever so softly, I close my bedroom door.

  Hallelujah. Unnoticed.

  Sighing with relief, I let my bag slip to the floor before I shrug off my parka and hang it on the hook. I walk over to my bed and plop down onto the mattress just as Jenna bursts into my room.

  “Annie, oh my God, why didn’t you tell us you were home?!”

  “Long day,” I murmur as I curl up into my blanket.

  “Oh, no, you don’t, lady!” Wendy chirps as she walks in to join us. “You are not going to bed. We are going out to celebrate that finals are over.”

  “Guys, I’m super tired.” I feign a yawn, hoping they’ll just let me be. Dr. McDreamy and my bed are calling, and I am more than ready to spend all night long with them.

  Jenna puts her hands on her hips and juts out her chin as she fake glares at me. “Nope, no way. These past four years all you did was study, study, study. And even when I went to visit you over the summer, you were taking extra classes at the local university.”

  Wendy crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Listen, Little Miss Bookworm. You are coming out with us. And if you try to back out, we’re just gonna stay here and keep pestering you.”

  I groan and slam my hands down on the comforter. I’ve been through this routine before. They’re in top form tonight, and when they get jazzed up like this, resistance is futile. “Fine.”

  The two girls smile from ear to ear as they bounce up and down on their toes. I can see it in their eyes already. They’ve been planning my makeover.

  Ugh, what did I do to deserve this?

  The last time they made me over, two years ago, I was hounded all night by drunken fools. I don’t care for being the center of attention. Or attracting the attention of any man, really. Partying has never been my thing. I’d much rather wear my jeans and turtleneck sweaters over some skimpy dress that barely covers my butt.

  But my two friends are the exact opposite. They’re not brain-dead, like some of the hard partiers around campus, but they definitely do more than their fair share of getting dolled up and hitting the town.

  Wendy and Jenna start whispering to one another, and I fling my legs over the side of the bed and sit up. Time to set some boundaries before this gets too out of hand. “Listen, the two of you: I agreed to go out with you tonight. But I don’t want a repeat of the last time you both played fashionista with me.”

  “Don’t worry, Annie. We promise to be a little more modest,” Jenna says.

  “Yeah, last time no one paid attention to us at all.” Wendy rolls her eyes and pouts. “Do you know how gorgeous you are? I mean, you hide that killer body in oversized sweaters. Not to mention, I’d kill for your naturally wavy hair.”

  “Thanks, Wendy,” I say, looking down at my feet. Heat crawls up my neck to my cheeks. Accepting compliments has always been hard for me. As if I’ve always believed them to be a lie. I’m not ugly by any means, but I just don’t place importance on looks. Grades are what’s important to me.

  “Now, go get that butt of yours in the shower,” Jenna says.

  I hop off the bed, grab my robe, and stop in the middle of the doorway. “Where are we going?”

  “Club Exposito,” Wendy answers.

  I groan. Of course. The two have been dying to go there for a couple of months. It’s supposed to be the hottest place in town, meaning it’s guaranteed to be absolutely packed to the gills. I shake my he
ad and continue toward the bathroom.

  Once inside, I lock the door and strip out of my clothes. I step into the shower, toes flinching as they touch the chilled ceramic floor. I turn the dial, old and metallic, and let out a sigh as the hot water trickles down my skin. I stand for a moment and enjoy the sensation. It feels like I’m rinsing away my hardest semester yet.

  After the twenty minutes it takes to wash my hair and body, I slink into my robe and head to my room where Wendy and Jenna are waiting. “So, just an outfit, right?” I say tentatively. I wince, knowing that Wendy’s reply isn’t going to make me feel any better.

  “Oh, we’re going full-out, honey.” Wendy holds up a blow dryer and pumps the trigger like a crazy woman with a gun. They both laugh. I just groan again.

  Still, things could be worse, I remind myself as they set upon me like a pack of hyenas. While I might not like the idea of getting a sexy makeover, I’m not opposed to being pampered a bit. So while Wendy and Jenna go about styling my hair and makeup, I mentally begin to plan for the next semester.

  Definitely need to meet with the advisor again and see if it’s worth jumping right into a master’s program or if I should keep pursuing the job hunt first. Some of the firms I’ve been perusing offer to pay tuition costs for employees. And that would help so much. My loans are already out of control.

  “Stop frowning.” Jenna smacks my shoulder, startling me out of my reverie. “You’re screwing up the lip liner.”

  “Please don’t tell me you’re sitting here planning your future career,” Wendy says as she twists a lock of my hair around the curling iron.

  “I’m just trying to figure out what my next move should be. Besides, there’s not much else for me to do except sit still while you psychos go to work on me, so I might as well be productive,” I say.

  The two huff and roll their eyes. When they’re done, Jenna grabs a miniskirt from her closet and throws it on my bed while Wendy fishes out the cobalt-blue shirt I have in my closet. The one with the low V-neck and see-through sleeves. Of course she picked that one out—she’s the one who made me buy it.