Vik (Shot Callers Book 2)

by Belle Aurora

  Behind the bar, four sets of eyes turned on her, and the intensity in our matching gazes must have had an impact, because quite suddenly, Fawn’s smile fell.

  Now, Francesca had only been with us a couple of months. She was loud and opinionated, but there was something about her that resonated with me. It hadn’t taken long for her to guess that Vik and I had a complicated history. So, when she asked point blank if Vik was on the menu, the glower I’d given in response was all she needed to put her hands up in a placating gesture, along with a muttered, “Got it. Off limits.”

  Yeah. Chessie was a smart woman.

  Fawn, regrettably, was as naïve as they came. She still wore the smile of a woman who hadn’t yet had her heart broken. She still had an innocence about her that hadn’t yet been shattered. And worst of all, she was button-nosed cute and dressed like a sexy little doe.

  That little nose turned up as she squinted endearingly. “Oh. Is there a no-fraternizing policy here?”

  My God. She was Bambi levels of sweet.

  “Something like that,” I offered.

  Chessie then added, “Listen, sweetheart. You don’t shit where you eat. Find a guy outside of work and bang him ’til your ears bleed, but keep your workspace clear.”

  Fawn looked like she’d just swallowed her tongue when Birdie laughed. “Listen to these girls, baby. They know a thing or two about it.”

  And when Fawn’s innocent gaze landed on Anika, she nodded sympathetically. “Workplace relationships are messy. We don’t want messy.”

  Fawn looked devastated, and I felt both shitty and victorious. But my stomach clenched violently when she smiled, then shrugged. “I guess I’ll just have to settle with a little flirting.”

  Before I could object, she was halfway across the room, sashaying toward him. I kept a close eye on her, but when I saw Vik wasn’t engaging, I calmed mildly and let it go.

  I shouldn’t have.

  The next night before opening, I strolled backstage to find Birdie when I heard them talking and stilled, eavesdropping just behind the curtain.

  “No way.”

  “Girl, I seen it.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “You don’t have to. I’m just warning you is all. That woman is scary.”

  “She don’t look it to me.”

  “That’s ’cause you haven’t seen her fly across a bar in platforms and try to knock some poor bitch out for talking to her man.” She paused. “Trust me, Vik’s not worth the misery Nastasia will pile on you.”

  My eyes narrowed as I listened in.

  “Well, that little doe was flirting with him last night, and she didn’t do shit, so maybe she’s over him.”

  My heart beat faster.

  A thoughtful sound came. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  Another woman piped in, and this voice I recognized. The heavy Jersey accent was a dead giveaway. “Who gives a fuck if she gets mad? I don’t care if he’s got a woman or a wife or any of that shit. If I say he’s available, he is, and it’s up to him to prove me wrong.” I could damn well hear the smirk in her voice. “I never have a problem with competition, seeing as I always win.”

  Oh yeah. That’s nice. Real nice.

  A round of scoffs went through the room, and when Lush let out an annoyed sounding, “What? You don’t believe me? I’ll prove it to you. Hell, let’s start a kitty going. I wanna get paid.”

  My jaw tightened almost painfully when I heard one girl call out, “I’ll take that bet.”

  “Me too.”

  “Girl, I’m only participating in the hopes of seeing you get your smug ass beat.”

  And Lush simply replied, “Please, bitch. I was raised on these streets. She ain’t nothing I can’t handle. You think that prim and proper princess could take me on?” The words dripped venom. “I’d like to see her try.”

  Another one of the girls tried to talk sense into her. “Honey, don’t do it. You’re gonna end up signing your own death warrant.”

  “Oh please.” God, Lush was cocky. “Y’all making it sound like she’s got actual pull, when we all know as long as we keep Sasha happy, he’s gonna keep us around. It’s just good business.”

  Bitter laughter sounded, then another dancer chimed in. “You know what else is good business, babies?” A slight pause, then, “Minding your own.”

  Sounds of approval went through the air. I waited another thirty seconds before I strode into the dressing area, and when the women spotted me, some of their faces paled while others’ eyes widened. And because I wasn’t a complete asshole, I smiled and looked around at everyone but Lush as I complimented, “Wow. You guys look hot.”

  They preened and smiled and all talked at once, clearly loving the attention.

  So, when Lush uttered, “Bitch, I know I look good,” while giving me the stink-eye, I looked her deep in the eye and smiled in a way that didn’t reach my gaze.

  “I’m sorry,” I told her, appearing contrite, “I don’t remember your name.” And if looks could kill, she would have flayed me then. “I try to remember everyone, but we’ve had such a big turnover these last few months that names seemed inconsequential.”

  Lush knew what I was doing. It was clear that as much as she didn’t like me, I did not like her.

  “Wait.” I snapped my fingers. “They call you…” I pretended to struggle. “Big, or thick or something, right?”

  Her eyes narrowed on me, and she spoke through gritted teeth, “Lush.”

  I feigned ignorance. “Right, yes. Lush. That’s it.” I tilted my head in thought. “It’s weird though. When I looked over your resume”—her eyes widened, and she swallowed hard, her gaze begging me to stop playing—“I could have sworn your name was Martha.”

  The laughter that erupted around me was deafening, and I watched Lush die a silent death.

  Yeah, bitch. I can play too.

  Satisfied that the disposable dancer now knew I wasn’t someone you fucked with, I watched her cheeks flame and kept my stoic gaze on her. “You know, when you work in close proximity to people, you really shouldn’t go out of your way to piss them off.”

  What had she said?

  Oh yes.

  I repeated her words mockingly. “But… what do I know?” My eyes darkened dangerously. “It’s not like I’ve got any actual pull.”

  The dancer next to Lush reached out and shook her shoulder as she laughed, and Lush glowered at her, letting out a caustic, “Don’t touch me, bitch.”

  Another round of hooting laughter sounded, and I took my leave. Just before I left, I heard one of the girls call out to Lush, “I told you. Didn’t I tell her? I told her not to fuck with that woman.”

  Then another. “Girl, you’re on her radar now.”

  And finally, “You’re walking on thin ice, Martha.”

  More laughter sounded, and I left it at that, knowing the girls would rib her ’til it hurt.

  Sasha taught me how to fire a gun when I was fourteen. Lev bought me a switchblade and showed me the most efficient way to do the most damage with as little force. Vik trained me self-defense and boxing so I could take care of myself when he couldn’t. I was no shrinking violet, and I sure as shit wasn’t scared of this skank.

  I might not have been brought up on the streets, but I was raised by wolves, and our pack thrived on the taste of blood. She was lucky I had only nipped in caution rather than rip her pretty little throat out.

  Now, as I watched Fawn practically bounce on the spot in excitement as she spoke with Vik, it was about all I could handle. When she put both her hands on his arm and leaned in, laughing at something he said, something clicked inside my head.

  I was a normally sane woman.

  Rounding the bar, I threw the flap open hard and heard Anika say, “Nas, where are you going?”

  Chessie chuckled and let out a singsonged, “Uh oh. Fawn’s in trouble.”

  I barely heard Birdie over the music. “Nastasia, you be kind. She doesn’t know any better.
”

  Sure, she didn’t know any better. But she would.

  Yeah. I was a decent person, but there was one exception to the rule.

  I did my best to quell the beast that always seemed to take over whenever Vik was within arm’s distance of another woman and approached with a serene smile on my face. The young woman in the doe outfit smiled widely as I approached. She held her tray to her chest, and the way it made her tits pop was impressive.

  “Hey,” I said good-naturedly, trying not to scowl at how cute the deer-like ears looked on her. “How do you think you’re doing tonight?”

  Fawn responded with a light bounce. “I think I’m doing all right.” She looked up at Vik, and the want in her eyes was not missed by anyone. Her lashes fluttered. “Am I doing okay, Vik?”

  No matter what he wanted you to believe, Viktor Nikulin was not a moron. He knew exactly why I was standing there, what had drawn me near. He knew me well enough to know that my eye was twitching and why. And because Vik was smarter than he made out, he did not poke the bear.

  Dipping his chin, he hid a sly smile, then lifted his face, which now wore a well-practiced, passive expression. “You’re doing okay, kid.”

  Kid.

  Beautiful.

  My mind blew a chef’s kiss.

  I bit the inside of my cheeks to hide my smile of satisfaction. The way her face fell told me she didn’t need that additional cruel taunt. She got the point; she got it real quick.

  “Is he bothering you, Fawn?” And because I was feeling extra spicy, I spun on Vik and narrowed my eyes dangerously in warning. “You’re not getting paid to flirt with the waitstaff, Viktor.”

  He leaned his hip against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, his muscly biceps flexing deliciously.

  The way he looked at me, his hooded gaze lowering appreciatively to my cleavage, had me feeling bold. The black teddy, thigh-high stockings combo was suddenly a new favorite. It was definitely going into the regular rotation.

  When he licked his bottom lip slowly, my mouth dried. He looked me over lazily, as if he had all the time in the world. And if I were being honest, for as long as he wanted to look me over the way he was, I would make the time.

  “Nas.” One word. One syllable.

  One caution.

  The way he breathed my name had me stumbling over myself.

  Lord. Why did his voice always sound like sex?

  My stomach twisted harshly as a sudden flashback—Vik pumping into me from behind, one strong arm wrapped around my waist, hauling me back into his thick cock as the other arm came up between my breasts, his hand gently wrapped around my throat, his teeth biting down on my shoulder—had me lightheaded.

  I didn’t want an audience, so I waited until Fawn scurried away with a quiet apology before I said, “She’s young.”

  Maybe Vik didn’t get my meaning.

  “She is,” he agreed, looking over in her direction, and the longer he stared, the harder my heart began to beat. “She’s also cute.”

  Or maybe he did.

  Jealousy tore my insides apart. And although I felt like my world was falling down around me, I did what I always did when I felt this way.

  I readjusted my crown and pretended I was fine, when all I ever wanted was to take my place on the throne beside his.

  14

  Vik

  Fucking hell. This could not be happening.

  I worked my ass off. I worked around everyone and everything to deliver while still maintaining some of what was mine, and I couldn’t get ahead. It wasn’t enough.

  Hell, I don’t know why I was surprised.

  It was never going to be enough so long as the work I did was by the book.

  My hand came up to my brow. I rubbed absently at it, my knee bouncing rapidly under the table. “What does this mean?”

  The stern, unsympathetic woman seemed perturbed by the question. “I have explained this to you, Mr. Nikulin.” She shot a mild, unbothered stare to my mother and father, and it took everything I had not to reach across the table and demand she pay for the disrespect. Instead, I clenched my jaw tightly and listened carefully. “Yes, you have made payments, but the amount we have stipulated versus what you have offered is not sufficient.”

  Was she fucking stupid? Did she not hear me?

  It was my turn to glare at her. I asked slowly, once more in death-like calm, “What does this mean?”

  Her red lips pursed. She placed her hands carefully on the desk, one folded over the other in poise, and said, “It means you have until the end of next month.”

  The end of next month?

  She couldn’t be serious.

  “That’s—” I did the math in my head. “—forty-two days away.” Her expression remained unchanged, and I shuffled on my seat before I leaned in, looked her dead in the eyes, and rumbled, “You’re telling me I have forty-something days to get the money.”

  Without hesitation, she responded, “Yes.”

  Yeah. That wasn’t going to happen.

  Why did I get the feeling she was enjoying this?

  Jesus Christ.

  How the fuck was I supposed to get the money in that time? I’d have better luck winning the lottery.

  With a light sigh, I nodded, then stood. “No problem. We’ll have it.”

  And as I held out my hand to help my mother up, she uttered, “Viktor, I don’t think we—”

  No. Not now. Not in front of her.

  I cut her off with a firm, “It’s fine, Ma.”

  My father walked in stoic silence until we were about halfway home. And then he cracked under the pressure.

  “Yoy.” He crumbled, and he covered his face with shaking hands as he muttered a heavy-sounding, “O bozhe moy.”

  And it broke my fucking heart.

  I reached out and placed my hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.”

  My father shook his head and murmured weakly, “Not okay. Nothing is okay. This is very bad, Viktor.” His voice trembled as he closed his eyes and prayed in silence.

  My entire life, my father was my rock. He may have done some questionable things, but he was a good man who cared for his family and simply wanted the best for them.

  Now, listening to the fear radiate off of him… nothing hurt quite so much.

  “Pops, stop.” I did my best to reassure him. “Everything will be okay.”

  I noticed my mother was awfully quiet, and as I peered into my rearview mirror, my chest ached when I saw her blinking away tears.

  Oh, fuck no.

  “Hey,” I called back to her. Her lashes glistened as she met my eyes, and I uttered, “This is nothing. A hiccup.” But my mom did not look convinced. On all that was holy, I vowed, “I’m gonna take care of this. Everything will be fine.”

  We continued to drive on in silence, and when I pulled up into the driveway of my childhood home, I let them out. That was when Mom noticed I wasn’t following and said, “Where do you go? Come inside. I’ll make you something for eat.”

  No shit. I had the best mom. She deserved better.

  I owed her. I owed them both.

  “I can’t,” I said quietly, then explained, “I gotta see a guy about a job.”

  And when Mom looked to my pops, I could see they wanted to protest. But they couldn’t. We needed this.

  “Byt' ostorozhnym,” was my father’s gentle caution.

  Be careful.

  “I will.” And because I knew my mother, which meant I knew her worry would consume her, I called out of the window, “Hey, Ma. You know, I was thinking. It’s been a while since you made medovik.”

  Immediately, her face lit up. “You want me to make?”

  No. I didn’t even like it that much. The cake was sickly sweet, but it was time-consuming, and it would help her focus on something other than the burden.

  “Yeah.”

  A small smile tilted her lips, and she promised, “I do it right now, and you can have some before you sleep.”

&n
bsp; “Perfect.” I watched her walk away before calling after her, “Thanks, Ma.”

  My father stood by the passenger side of my car with his hands in his pockets. His lips pursed, and his expression turned despondent as he let out a low, “You are a good man, my son.”

  Was I?

  I wasn’t so sure.

  “I’ll see you later, Pops.” I put the car into reverse, and as I backed out of the drive, I warned, “Don’t eat all my cake.”

  My father chuckled, and I grinned in return, because neither of us cared for it.

  By the time, I got there, I was half mad with apprehension.

  I needed to fix this. I needed to do it quick. And I only knew of one man who might be able to point me in the right direction.

  So when I pulled up, stepped out of my car, and approached the front door, I raised my hand to knock and stilled when it swung open.

  Ada greeted my frowning face with a serene smile. “I saw you through the window, Mr. Vik. Please, come in.” I entered, and she added, “He’s in his office.”

  “Thanks, Ada.”

  I strode down the hall toward Sasha’s office and knocked. He sounded distracted when he gave his permission to enter, and I went in. Without a word, I sat in the guest seat directly across from him and waited for his attention. He looked at me, and his brow rose at the sight of me. I guess I wasn’t hiding my emotions all too well.

  “Viktor. You look like shit.”

  Nice. My brow bunched, and I uttered a light, “Fuck you.”

  Sasha’s lip twitched before he asked, “What’s up?”

  Well, shit. There was no easy way to ask this. He would expect an explanation when the only one I had to give was nobody’s business. “Look, I didn’t want it to come to this, but I know you still have contacts amongst the firms, and—” I delayed a moment. “—I need a job.” Sasha’s brow lowered as I went on. “Fast. Messy. High paying.” In case he didn’t get what I was saying, I ran a hand down my face and added a strained, “You got a hook-up?”

  Sasha remained quiet a long while, and when he spoke, he said all the things I hoped he wouldn’t. “How much do you need, brother? I’ll go to the bank first thing and sort you out.” But I was already shaking my head, and when he asked, “What kind of trouble are you in, Vik?” I let out a caustic laugh.