Scarred_A Russian Mob Romance_Anosov Family Mafia

by Vivian Gray

  The Hudson River sat below him, inky black in the darkness, dotted by ferries and small boats. But the real star was the skyline. Skyscrapers speckled with lights like a forest of giant Christmas trees stretched from the water up to the sky. I stood at the window, transfixed.

  “Beautiful view, isn’t it?” I turned just as Anton sat a plate of steaming food on the kitchen island. “This is for you if you want it. I’m going to go change.”

  He walked out of the room as if having me in his penthouse was the most normal thing in the world. As if nothing unusual had happened that evening at all. And for all I knew, nothing unusual had happened. I knew nothing about Anton. Perhaps this was a common occurrence for him.

  The food smelled amazing, garlic and butter wafting through the air, causing my stomach to clench with hunger. I clamped my mouth shut and turned back to the skyline. I wouldn’t eat anything he’d made for me. I’d rather starve.

  Chapter Four

  Anton

  Bailey could have left if she wanted. Sure, I locked the elevator doors, but I do that every night when I get home. I meant what I said about not letting just anyone ride the elevator up to the penthouse. I made it seem like she couldn’t leave, but I also dropped the key to the elevator on the kitchen counter. If she wanted, she could grab it and bolt, and I wouldn’t stop her.

  I hoped she would stay though. The limo ride had been tense, so we hadn’t had much of a chance to talk. I’d like to change that.

  My suit fit like a glove – as it should, I’d paid a fortune to have it tailored – but it still felt nice to hang it on the closet and exchange it for my loose cotton pajama pants and a gray T-shirt. While I changed, I kept my ear trained on the kitchen, waiting to hear the sound of the keys being picked up off the counter and the familiar rumble of the elevator as it moved through the heart of the building.

  Instead, I heard nothing. I couldn’t be sure whether that was a good sign or not. I’d brought plenty of women back to my penthouse, but very rarely had I been so nervous. My nerves probably had a lot to do with the fact that Bailey clearly didn’t want to be alone with me, but I also wanted to make a good impression. I wanted to help her get away from her pathetic excuse for a boyfriend and find a life where someone cared about her enough not to offer her up in exchange for his debts.

  I padded back into the kitchen and was surprised to find Bailey sitting at the kitchen island. She didn’t look up at me as I entered, and I suspected it had a lot to do with the fact that she was eating. I knew very little about Bailey, but it didn’t take a detective to discover how stubborn she was. She wouldn’t want to admit she’d been hungry, and she certainly wouldn’t want me to mention it.

  “Decided you were hungry after all?” I asked as I sat down across from her, pulling my own plate in front of me. I’d made myself grilled garlic chicken and rice for dinner the night before, and I was relieved I had enough left over to split between the two of us. If she’d had to sit and watch me nearly burn the entire building down to make dinner, she probably would have jumped through the window to escape.

  She didn’t acknowledge me, and I couldn’t help but smile.

  “This is probably better than anything Brendan ever cooked you,” I added.

  Finally, she looked up at me, eyes narrowed. It was almost funny to see her soft features screwed up in anger. Her bee-stung lips were drawn into a scowl, and her forehead was wrinkled, but it somehow didn’t diminish her beauty. My smile in the face of her hatred seemed to upset her, though, so I bit it back.

  “It’s edible,” she said. “But just barely.”

  Her words were undercut by the fact that her plate was nearly empty. I spooned a mouthful of chicken and rice into my mouth, swallowed, and then folded my hands on the island between us, giving her my full attention.

  “If you can manage to be civil long enough to hear me out, I think I have an offer you may enjoy.”

  She put down her fork and leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t want anything from you.”

  “It’s never good business to turn down a deal before you know the details.”

  It looked as though she was going to say something, but she thought better of it and closed her mouth. When I didn’t start right away, she waved her hand as if to tell me to hurry up.

  “I’ve come to understand you need a job, and—”

  “How do you know that?” she asked.

  Brendan had mentioned it over the last few weeks, constantly complaining about his leech of a girlfriend who was sucking him dry. He’d also made another lude joke about other things she’d been sucking, but I wouldn’t mention that to Bailey.

  “Brendan mentioned it at one of the poker games.”

  She rolled her eyes and looked towards the window. “Great. I can only imagine what he said. You two get together every week to talk trash on the women in your lives and then hatched this little plan to make a wife swap?” Her pale skin went flush with anger, and I could practically feel the heat rolling off of her.

  “First of all,” I said, holding a finger up to stop her, “your boyfriend is not and has never been my friend. He runs his mouth, and I was in the unfortunate position of being nearby to overhear him. Second, he chose to bet you, and I was simply in the fortunate position of winning the hand. Call if fate. Call it luck. Call it whatever you want, but don’t call it a conspiracy.”

  She balked at the mention of fate, but my explanation seemed to calm her, and she turned towards me, ready to listen again.

  “Anyway, I know you’re in need of a job, and I have a few options for you. My brother, Sacha, needs a new waitress at Tenmo, though I can’t promise you won’t also be asked to dance. Sometimes the dancers OD or get arrested, and they miss a shift, so Sacha likes to keep pretty waitresses on hand just in case.”

  Bailey opened her mouth, prepared to interrupt me again, but I held out a hand to stop her.

  “Or, if you’d rather, you could work for me.”

  “What do you do?” she asked, taking a quick look around my marble clad kitchen and stainless-steel appliances. I knew it was probably the nicest kitchen she’d ever been in before.

  “I’m in need of a personal assistant. Someone to screen my calls, arrange my travel, schedule my meetings, that sort of thing.”

  Most men in my position would have had an assistant years ago, but I could never bring myself to hire one. Having an assistant required a level of trust and intimacy I wasn’t prepared for. They would know where you were at every hour of the day and have access to your home and private information. Plus, I enjoyed my privacy and alone time. The thought of spending so much time with the same person felt smothering. But for some reason, it seemed like a good idea with Bailey. I could see myself enjoying the time we spent together.

  Assuming, of course, she one day stopped hating me so fervently.

  “That’s not what I asked,” she said. “I asked what you do.”

  I shook my head. “I will tell you when you accept the job.”

  “When?” she asked, a playfulness I hadn’t seen before lighting up her eyes.

  “Yes, when.”

  “How can you be so certain I’ll accept?”

  I leaned back against the counter, the marble cutting a cold line into my feverish skin. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a woman in my house this late, and we weren’t having sex. Especially a woman as beautiful as Bailey. The pain helped me to focus.

  “Because the pay is astronomically higher than anything you’ve ever made before,” I replied. I wasn’t trying to sound pretentious. I simply knew it was true. If Bailey had a job making what I planned to pay her, there was no way in hell she would have been with a loser like Brendan.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “$100,000 per year with a ten percent raise after the first year.”

  Her mouth fell open, and for the first time, it seemed as if she wouldn’t have a snarky comeback. Her reaction made it clear I’d be
en right about her previous jobs, and I could see her thinking over the offer, trying to figure out whether she could afford to turn it down.

  When she finally managed to pick her jaw up off the floor, she stood up and took her empty plate to the sink, rinsing it off. I liked how at home she looked in my kitchen. “What if I say no?”

  “You’d be an idiot. Plus, I plan to send some muscle to collect my debts from Brendan, and I suspect he’ll be taking some time off work. He was your financial security, correct?”

  Her face paled, and she nodded.

  “I can give you time to think over my offer,” I said. Though I knew it wasn’t much of an offer. She could either accept my offer or figure out how to support herself on her own.

  I turned to leave, but she stopped me, closing the distance between us and placing a hand on my elbow.

  “Why did you bring me here?” she asked, her eyes wide and probing. “What’s going to happen?”

  “Are you asking whether we are going to have sex tonight?”

  Her cheeks flushed at the directness of my question, but she nodded.

  I looked at her. Her breasts pushed out of the top of her dress. Her body narrowed at her waist and then swelled out around her hips, making me want to reach out and follow the curve with my fingers. She had mascara smudged under her eyes, but the rest of her face seemed natural and untouched. While I studied her, she bit her pouty lower lip, and I felt myself twitch in my pajama pants. I readjusted my stance so she wouldn’t notice.

  Finally, I shook my head and leaned forward until we were only a few inches apart. “No, not tonight. I’ve never forced a woman into my bed, and I’m sure as hell not going to start now. I want you to want it.” I bent forward until our lips were almost touching. “I want you to beg for it.”

  She sneered at me, but I could see her trembling, could sense the nervousness just beneath her tough veneer.

  “I want it,” she said, never looking away.

  I jolted at her words and leaned back to get a better look at her. She wanted to have sex? There would be no hiding the rise in my cotton pants now, and Bailey looked down at my erection, her lips rising into a smirk.

  “The job, I mean,” she added, tilting her head to the side. “I want the job. Sorry, did you think I meant something else?”

  I hated how excited I’d been. How easy it had been for her to trick me. I took another step back from her, trying to compose myself so she wouldn’t see how flustered I was. Though, of course, she had already seen it. Just those three words from her had been enough to make me ready for her. She was a hellcat – fiery and feisty and sexy. When we did finally fuck, I knew it would be incredible.

  “No, I understood perfectly,” I replied.

  She nodded, but I could tell she didn’t believe me. “Good. As long as we’re on the same page.”

  “Absolutely. I’d hate to start out our work relationship on the wrong foot.”

  She grinned up at me, then turned to walk down the hallway. “I assume there is a guest room down here for me?”

  I took a few breaths before turning to follow her. Perhaps I’d underestimated Bailey. Even while playing the part of the quiet girlfriend back at the poker game, I’d been able to tell she was a spitfire. Brendan had tamped down her spirit, but I could still see it in the green of her eyes. But now she was walking around my penthouse like she owned the place and talking as if she owned me.

  I realized one thing for sure: Bailey was done being used.

  Chapter Five

  Bailey

  Anton followed me down the hallway, and I forced myself not to turn around and watch him. I’d assumed he couldn’t look better in anything than a suit, but his cotton pajama pants nearly undid me. He looked like a male underwear model, and I desperately wanted to see the muscles hiding beneath his thin layers of soft cotton.

  I hadn’t planned to accept Anton’s job offer. I hadn’t even planned to stay the night. Even though I didn’t really have anywhere to go – there was no way I could go back to Brendan’s house after he’d bet me at the game – I was planning on sneaking out as soon as Anton went to sleep.

  However, then he’d leaned forward and told me he wanted me to beg for it. For it. And at that moment, I wanted to. If he’d moved even one-centimeter closer, I would have dropped to my knees and pleaded for him to take me on the counter. But luckily, he stayed where he was, and I found myself accepting the job offer. Teasing him. A few hours before, I wouldn’t have thought myself capable of teasing a man of Anton’s power and position, but there I was standing in his kitchen, making him ache for me. It felt good.

  However, if I wanted to keep the advantage I’d gained, I needed to put some distance between us. So, I waltzed down his hallway like I’d done it a thousand times before.

  “I assume there is a guest room down here for me?” I asked.

  I peeked through the first door I came to, and it was a large room filled with exercise equipment – a bench press, free weights, and a treadmill. That explained how Anton stayed in such amazing shape. The next door was closed, and it had taken all of my confidence to stroll down the hallway, so I didn’t have enough left to open up random doors and stroll inside.

  “That is my room.”

  Anton had snuck up behind me, and I felt his warm breath on my neck. I wanted to turn around and let him take me against the wall, but I took a deep breath and controlled myself.

  His arm reached over my shoulder to point at the door just across the hall from his. “That is your room.”

  “Perfect,” I said, moving away from Anton to open the door.

  The room had a large four-poster bed in the center and a separate bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub big enough for four people. If this was his guest room, what did his room look like? I banished the thought from my mind.

  “You better get some sleep,” Anton said from the hallway. “We have a busy day tomorrow.”

  “Oh?” I asked, turning to see him standing in his doorway. The room behind him was dark, so I couldn’t see any details. “What is the plan tomorrow?”

  “You’ll find out tomorrow.” He winked and backed into his room. “There are some pajamas in the dresser. Goodnight, Bailey.”

  I closed my door as quickly as possible, praying the five feet between my door and his would be enough to keep me from breaking into his room in the middle of the night and straddling him. I had never felt this way before. I had never met a man who made me feel so out of control. It felt like my vagina had a mind of its own.

  I opened the dresser drawer and saw the clothes Anton had mentioned. Except, they weren’t clothes. The drawer was filled with lingerie. Every item I picked up had lace and straps and transparent material. What man kept a drawer of lingerie in their guest room? How many women had worn these “clothes” before me? I closed the drawer and jumped onto the bed, reserved to sleep in my dress rather than wear secondhand lingerie.

  $100,000 per year. What would my life look like if I was making that much money? I could afford to get my own place and start my life over. And if Anton had been telling the truth about his plans for Brendan, I wouldn’t have much of a choice. Brendan’s job barely paid enough to house and feed both of us, so if he had to take time away from work to nurse himself back to health, I would end up back on the street. And that was not an option. Not again.

  But could I really be Anton’s personal assistant? Boss-employee relationships rarely worked out. If we started out having sex with one another, what would happen if I wanted to break off the relationships? Or more likely, if he wanted to break off the relationship? Or, what if he didn’t want a relationship at all? What if I was just his side booty and I had to watch him go out on dates with other women and bring women home?

  I took a deep breath. I was getting ahead of myself. I barely knew Anton, so it was silly to worry about our nonexistent relationship before it had even started. At that moment, the only thing I needed to know was that I was no longer living with an abusive boyfri
end, I had a job with a higher pay than I would be able to find anywhere else, and if the deal involved having some killer sex with the most attractive man I’d ever seen, I couldn’t really complain.

  Feeling marginally better about the whole situation, I rolled onto my side, buried my face in a mountain of the fluffiest pillows I’d ever laid on, and almost instantly fell asleep.

  When I opened my eyes the next morning, it took me a few seconds to realize where I was. Not only had I fallen asleep in a new place, but the curtains had been pulled open, letting in a piercing white light. I squinted against it and rolled over, dragging the silky bedding over my head.