by Ava Bloom
I didn’t really know why I was surprised. Oh Alexei, what a life I could have had with him…
The thing was, at the end of these couple weeks in Barcelona, I was going to head straight back to Russia, alone again. Even sitting there that night in the hotel, I felt so lonely. So cold, so dreadful. I wanted nothing more than to be there in Alexei’s arms—but I knew I couldn’t have that.
I shook my head and pulled myself out of the comfy nest that I’d made for my nap. It was late evening already; I had slept for longer than I’d meant to. I smiled a little at my reflection in the mirror: I’d finally gotten some sun today, and although it had made me drowsy, I was pleased to see the sun-kissed look of my cheeks. That was one good thing to take back from Barcelona, I supposed.
I hesitated next to my closet. When I wandered out to the other side of the suite, it was dark, and there were no signs of Father anywhere. He must still be with the Volkovs, then. For a moment, I felt an irrational stab of anger. We had gone to dinner for the past two nights in a row, though; there was no reason why I couldn’t enjoy my own company for the night.
I headed back towards my closet and stared at the things I had brought from St. Petersburg with me. I had packed knowing that I would see Alexei. But I hadn’t exactly packed knowing that I would sleep with him. What I really wanted to wear that night was some killer outfit to make him feel regretful for not calling me.
Even if having him call me was the last thing I wanted.
I grinned to myself, a plan forming in the back of my mind, and slipped into a semi-sheer black sheath dress that left very little to the imagination. I pulled the hair tie out of my hair, letting it fall in waves down my back. Then, I carefully did my makeup, accentuating my eyes and my lips.
Ritmo was busy when I got there—surprisingly so for a Thursday night. But not busy enough that I couldn’t immediately spot Alexei, sat at one of the booths in the back corner, surrounded by his cousins. Perfect.
I headed towards the bar, knowing I needed to make sure he noticed me before I put the next part of my plan into action. I hopped up on one of the stools, turning my body so that it was slightly sideways, giving him a good view of my legs.
Out the corner of my eye, I could see one of his cousins nudge him. Alexei’s gaze stuck on me for a long moment—until I turned towards the bartender to order my drink. Once the dark drink arrived, I plucked the cherry out of it, tilting my head back as I picked the fruit off the stem. Then, I turned towards his booth, meeting his gaze and making sure that he was still watching me.
For a moment, I wondered if he would still have left Russia if I had been like this back then. Maybe if I’d been just a little sexier, a little more confident in myself, he would have found a way to stay.
I didn’t want to think about that now, though.
Instead, I slipped off my stool and crossed the bar, walking boldly up to a Spanish man leaning against the opposite wall, his arms folded across his chest as he surveyed the crowd. I smiled coyly at him and watched as his eyes stroked my body.
There was something animalistic in the way he stared at me, and I knew I had picked the perfect guy. Alexei would be pissed if he saw me with this dude. It was a way of throwing the other night away, of showing that none of this mattered to me either.
I tossed back the rest of my drink and very deliberately set down the empty glass on a nearby table. The Spaniard took the hint and led me out to the dance floor.
The guy had moves, I had to admit that. Typical of Barcelona’s club scene, this place was playing some sort of dance music, but you wouldn’t have known it from the way he spun me around, grinding his hips against mine, his hands hot all over my body. I laughed as I tried to keep up with him, and he graced me with a smile as well—albeit a smile that did nothing to hide his absolute lust.
I shivered a little at the dark passion in his eyes.
To be honest, my plan hadn’t gone this far ahead. I hadn’t thought about what we would do beyond dancing. But when he pulled my body close to his and kissed me, I didn’t want to push him away. It was hot and sticky in the club, and there was something altogether carnal about this. I had never had a one-night stand before. Maybe it was time to let a sexy Spaniard whose name I didn’t even know whirl me around the dancefloor and then pin me down beneath his sheets.
Alexei looked angry when I risked a glance over at him, and I couldn’t help feeling self-satisfied even though I also felt vaguely guilty.
Did I really want to hurt Alexei? It had never been his fault that he had been called off to Barcelona. I could never blame him for coming here, not back then and not now. No matter how much we might have wished things could be different, everything had been out of his control, just as much as it had been out of mine.
But this wasn’t about hurting him, I reminded myself. This was about making sure we didn’t make the same mistake again while I was here in Barcelona; breaking up a second time would be too painful. Better that I made him so angry, he didn’t want to come near me for the rest of the time before my flight home.
The Spaniard led me over to the bar and ordered two drinks, holding one out to me. Whatever it was, it smoky and unbelievably alcoholic—but I knocked it back anyway, against my better judgment. If I was really going to go home with this guy tonight, I would need all the courage I could get.
I couldn’t help letting my eyes drift back to the booth in the back. Alexei’s cousins were all still there—but surprisingly enough, I saw no signs of Alexei.
I felt a flash of hurt. Even though this was my own fault, I had expected to get some sort of reaction out of Alexei. But again, it seemed as if instead of sparks flying, I was up against pure ice. Alexei was freezing me out of his life. He hadn’t even bothered to cause a scene, to try to fight for me, to act like he cared. Instead, he had just…gotten up and left?
I swallowed hard, feeling abandoned. Just like I had back in St. Petersburg. I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes, and I hastily took another sip of my drink, hoping the alcohol would wash away the tears.
I realized the Spaniard was watching me watch the Russian crew, and I felt embarrassed, knowing he must understand that I was just acting slutty towards him because I was looking to exact revenge. But what did it matter what he thought?
I let him tug me towards the door. “My place,” he growled as he led me out to the street. He paused for a moment, giving me time to say no.
But even if I didn’t go home with him, there was no one else waiting for me anywhere. Without hesitating, I climbed into the cab.
5
Alexei
As I wake up on the couch to the annoying sound of my ringtone, I reached over to answer it but just missed the call. As I focused in on the screen, I can see that it was Nikolai, and supposedly I already slept through a few of his calls. As I began to groggily piece together what happened the night before, my phone started to ring again from a number I didn’t recognize.
“Hello,” I said.
“I need your help,” the man said into the phone, without bothering to say hello or introduce himself. He was Russian, at least, but that didn’t really help me narrow things down. It wasn’t one of my immediate family members, I knew that much at least. I frowned, trying to place the voice. It was one I was familiar with, but I was at a loss.
“Who is this?” I finally asked.
The man made an impatient sound. “Gregor Gregorovich—Yulia’s father,” he snapped. I blinked, surprised that I hadn’t recognized his voice. But then again, it had been a number of years since I had spoken to the man. He had taken my departure from St. Petersburg as a personal slight against him, his daughter, and his whole family.
Really, it had been just business. But I’d never been able to explain that to him.
I sighed and shook my head, wondering why he was calling me now. “What do you need my help with?” I asked, wondering how Evgeni had attempted to screw the man out of his share of the arms deal—because that was the only t
hing that came to mind.
“It’s Yulia,” Gregor said, and I felt my heart constrict.
I thought back to the previous night at Ritmo.
As soon as I’d seen her, I knew she was in there looking for trouble. God, that dress that she’d been wearing—if you could even call it that. It looked more like lingerie than a dress. Some skimpy nightgown, something you should only wear for your lover.
But then again, I suppose she had been wearing it for me. To taunt me, as she went off with someone else.
I’d intended to go over there and punch the guy’s lights out. To ask Yulia what in the hell she thought she was doing with him. Picking up a Spaniard, right there on Volkov family territory, in the club that our family owned. I couldn’t believe she had the guts to do that.
I was kind of impressed, actually. Watching her flirt with someone else, watching her know how hot she was… Well. There was definitely something interesting about that, something that made me a little tight in my slacks as I watched her.
I’d sat there clenching my fists until my tattoos stood out sharply against my forearms. But I hadn’t moved into action until I’d seen what the asshole did at the bar.
Yulia’s eyes had been turned towards our table—she was watching me smugly, making sure I was watching her every move. She should have been watching her date, though. Instead, she missed the part where he slipped something into her drink.
She had turned back to him, lifting the glass to her lips, and that had been the final straw. Whatever my feelings for Yulia were, no matter that she had come there looking for trouble, I wasn’t about to watch her get drugged and dragged off into some back alley like a common whore.
I was halfway to the bar when Nikolai intercepted me. “Alexei, you know you can’t do that,” he said disapprovingly.
“That asshole spiked her drink!” I protested. “I can’t let her just-“
“That asshole,” Nikolai said, lowering his voice, “is a member of Audaz, in case you hadn’t noticed. One of their higher-ranking guys, too. If you start a fight with him in here, on our territory, there will be no question about provocation. The last thing we need is to have this place shut down--or worse, for the police to really crack down on our whole family."
“So what, I just have to sit back and watch them?” I asked bitterly.
Nikolai gave me a sympathetic look. “We’ll look out for her,” he promised. “But I think for right now, it’s best that you get yourself home. You’re too involved to think clearly.”
“Fuck off,” I snarled, anger still pulsing hotly through my veins. I couldn’t even think straight anymore.
The guy from Audaz had his hand on her lower back, and just the sight of it made me sick. I spun away from Nikolai and stalked towards the door, heading out into the night and trusting my cousins to watch out for her…
I shook my head and came back to the present, where Gregor was babbling on about Yulia not coming home the night before.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” I told him bitterly. I just hoped that she was sleeping it off somewhere. I was sure that Nikolai must be looking out for her. She wouldn’t really be abandoned in some alleyway. I only hoped she was okay, other than the come-down.
“This isn’t like her, though,” Gregor fretted. “She would normally at least send me some sort of message. We were supposed to go to brunch together.”
I frowned, looking at my watch. It wasn’t too late in the day, but it was late for brunch—just past noon already. I shook my head. “Stupid girl,” I muttered.
“Alexei Ivanovich-“ Gregor started.
“Well, she is,” I interrupted heatedly.
There was silence on the other end of the line.
“Alexei, you must help me,” Gregor said finally, and even from his voice, I could tell that he had gone ashen on the other end of the line. “I’m sure you know about my business here in the city—the arms deal. And I’m sure that you realize Audaz would want those contacts for themselves if they’ve heard about it. They must have heard about it.”
He paused for a long moment, and I waited for him to continue. “They will know what a key player I am in the deal, and they might be trying to hold Yulia for ransom. Alexei, I cannot pay a ransom.” He cleared his throat, sounding embarrassed. “It is why Yulia and I are here in Barcelona: I need this money. She doesn’t know that. She doesn’t know about…” He trailed off, sounding upset.
I frowned, trying to put it all together. So Gregor had come to Barcelona because he needed the arms deal. No doubt Yulia had been brought along to provide some sort of cover for him. A reason for him to be there in Barcelona. As he said, Audaz would have to know about the arms deal. It was a small world when it came to that sort of thing, and we all knew that Audaz must have its spies, always keeping tabs on us.
And if Audaz knew what they were doing here in the city…
I felt my blood run cold, remembering the guy spiking Yulia’s drink the previous night. It would all be too perfect.
But then again, none of that was entirely logical. I understood why Gregor was worried, but Yulia had been the one to pick out the Audaz guy at Ritmo. There had been hundreds of other eligible guys in there the previous night, and he hadn’t really done anything to even catch her eye. It was entirely possible that she could have gone off with someone else instead—clearly not a plan on their part.
And besides, why would they hold her for ransom? Audaz wasn’t after money; they had plenty of that. We’d had fights with Audaz in the past, mostly over territory but also over certain key deals in the city. They had never been after our money.
What they would want was information. And they had to know that Yulia couldn’t provide them with that information. I doubted she had more than a vague idea of what was going on, of what her father was doing there in the city. She wouldn’t have any information about the contacts. I doubted she even knew where the contacts were located.
“Gregor, I need you to stay put where you are so that I know I can contact you,” I said, using my most authoritative voice. “I’m going to get in touch with some of my contacts. But I’m sure Yulia is fine. She probably just had an…interesting night, and she overslept this morning. I’m sure she’ll be really sorry that she missed your brunch.”
Gregor sighed heavily. “Thank you, Alexei,” he said, his voice warm and full of gratefulness. “Please let me know when you find anything out.”
“I will,” I promised, hanging up the phone.
I stood there for a long moment, trying to decide what to do. I almost wanted to ignore the situation. Let Yulia sort things out on her own. Let her make her own apologies. As I had said, she was probably just still sleeping. Especially if she’d been drugged the night before, who knew what kind of shape she was in that morning.
But something about the whole situation didn’t sit right. Maybe it was just that I felt like I still owed some debt to Gregor. Or maybe it was something about the way Yulia’s eyes kept slipping towards me the previous night, as though she had never intended to go home with the Spaniard in the first place.
I shook my head and dialed Nikolai’s phone number.
6
Yulia
When I woke up, my head was throbbing, and my body was shaking with chills. This wasn’t just a hangover, I realized immediately. And when I thought back to the previous night… There were huge gaps in my memory, I realized. I remembered going to Ritmo, and I remembered Alexei’s eyes on me. I remembered dancing.
But I didn’t remember ending up here, wherever here was.
I swallowed hard, looking around at the warehouse. I tried to move but found that I couldn’t, tied to the chair as I was. What the hell had I gotten myself into?
This couldn’t be Alexei’s work, could it? Surely he hadn’t been so angry at me the previous night that he’d… That he’d kidnap me and tie me up in some warehouse?
No, that wasn’t Alexei’s style.
Alexei’s anger, when it was awak
ened, was hot and quick. He didn’t play games, and he didn’t draw things out. He had a fiery temper, and it had gotten him into more than a couple fistfights back in Russia. He wouldn’t have kidnapped me; he would have yelled at me right there in the middle of the club, or else he would have hit where he knew it would hurt me the most. He would have found his own girl to go home with last night.
No, whatever I had screwed up with Alexei, this wasn’t his style.
I swallowed hard, trying to remember the rest of the night. But I kept coming up blank. There had to be drugs involved at some point, I realized. Someone had spiked my drink; that would explain the shivering, hollow feeling inside of me. That would explain the gaps in my memory, the fact that I couldn’t remember ending up here.
And if it wasn’t Alexei’s fault that I had ended up here… Well, there was no one who knew where I was. No one in the city knew what I’d gotten up to that night; Alexei had left Ritmo before I had. That much, I remembered. There was a possibility that one of his cousins might have kept an eye on me as the night wore on, but if I had willingly left with someone, it’s not like they would have stopped me or asked where I was going with him.
I swallowed hard, the bleak nature of my situation really beginning to set in.
Not only was there no one in Barcelona who knew where I was, but after the stunt I’d pulled the night before, there was no one in this city who would care that I was missing—besides my father, but he was older and had never really had a taste for violence. He might be involved in certain deals with the mob, but that didn’t mean he was going to storm some warehouse with guns blazing, looking for his kidnapped daughter. Nor would Evgeni spare his own men for something like that, I didn’t think.
Alexei certainly wouldn’t come after me; he had already shown that clearly the night before. I swallowed hard, thinking back to my behavior in the club. I could rationalize my actions all I wanted: I had been hurt, I had been angry, I had been confused. Things between Alexei and I hadn’t been easy and clear-cut for a long time. But that didn’t give me any reason to humiliate him in front of his cousins like that.