Chapter 9
Chapter nine
Alisa
A week passed.
An agonizing week of looking over my shoulder for mobsters seeking retribution for Igor.
I’d felt the sharp sting of stares, and could’ve sworn I heard the patter of footsteps outside my window. Yet every time I checked, I never caught signs of a predator.
Somehow, the echoes of the dark look in Dmitri’s eyes when he made that promise were even more insidious.
I’d spent hours in the shower attempting to relieve the building pressure, panting as I tried not to visualize those scorching eyes.
It probably doubled my water bill, but no matter how hard I blasted the showerhead’s waves against my body, it never seemed to be enough.
A knock drummed against my flimsy wood door. I jumped even though I knew who would be there.
Gemma was all smiles as she sashayed into my apartment with some chocolate flavored wine.
I glanced into the hallway behind her, and found it thankfully empty.
“I’m going to have to keep my coat on, aren’t I?” she grumbled when she settled on the couch, glaring at the broken heater like it’d personally offended her.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not that bad,” I said, pouring her a generous helping of wine.
“That’s because a cold freeze hasn’t hit yet. You’re going to need to find someone to shack up with. Preferably someone with central air,” she said the last two words longingly.
Intense gray eyes flashed across my mind.
Absolutely not. I chugged some wine.
Yes, he’d saved me that night. But he also murdered my brother right in front of me, and ignored me when I’d begged him not to.
It was just hate-lust. It’d pass.
“You know you can stay with me if it gets bad,” she said, her lips tugging down into a frown. “My apartment’s a shithole, but at least my heater works.”
I couldn’t help a smile. She was so sweet. But there was a reason I lived on my own. With all my disguises, I needed to be able to walk out while remaining anonymous. I couldn’t have her catching on.
Plus, the perpetual darkness outside my building shielded me from prying eyes. I needed to work in the shadows, and I refused to bring my shadows back to Gemma.
“I’ll be fine. That reminds me, is that guy still bothering you at work?” I asked even though I knew the answer.
Dmitri wasn’t the type to show mercy. Reason 534 why my body needed to stop betraying me.
Gemma’s face lit up. “He hasn’t come back to the club in a week. I think he finally moved on.”
“That’s great,” I said with a smile, and then asked her the question that was really nagging at me. “Everyone else treating you good?”
Because it was possible that other people were keeping an eye on me. Hopefully, their focus wouldn’t extend to my friends. Not that I had many of those.
The couch creaked as Gemma leaned back into it.
“Yeah, it’s honestly been nice. Well, as nice as it can be, considering the job and clientele. For the first time since I moved to the city, I’m starting to have savings.” A huge smile split her face. “I finally feel like a real adult.”
“I’m happy for you,” I said with a matching smile.
Although, the word ‘savings’ sent a twinge down my body.
Nothing was in my name despite the high earnings the Bratva paid out.
My parents controlled every penny I earned, and doled out small amounts when they were feeling generous.
It wasn’t unusual for parents of the people in the Pakhan’s competition to maintain control over us through money.
But the ratio my parents gave me in relation to the amount I brought in was truly pathetic.
Hence the apartment with a broken heater.
“What about you?” she asked. “How’s the boring job going?”
“Boring,” I lied.
Nothing about the last week had been boring. Anxiety spread through my veins every time I left the house. Every face on the street had morphed into a potential threat.
But it hadn’t kept me from leaving the house. I’d scratched and clawed my way to my ranking, I refused to let fear sink me.
“Have you ever thought about getting another job?” Gemma asked. “I bet I could get you a job at the club. You have a smoking body.”
I smiled at the genuine compliment. It was so different from the backhanded ones from people I worked with, or the creepy ones from the men I’d eventually kill. It felt nice to not have to be on guard.
“Nah, I’m good.”
Plus, leaving the Bratva meant death.
Gemma shrugged. “If you could have any job in the world, what would you do?”
I blinked. For most of my life, I’d been so focused on surviving the competition and my father, that it’d never even occurred to me to dream of anything else.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. Who was I beyond the Bratva?
“Well, I always wanted to have a bookstore. Just being around books makes me happy.” She stared up at the cracked ceiling and smiled.
I understood that feeling. Growing up, I used to get lost in books to escape my reality.
“When I’ve made a bazillion dollars at the club, I’m opening up one.
And I’m making you quit your job so you can help me run it. ”
If only. But I laid back and listened to Gemma talk about all her dreams. Let the words soothe me, and for a moment I let myself pretend.
But when a text came in the illusion shattered, and all my sense of security with it.
The text was from my mother, and it contained the words that always sent my stomach into a nosedive.
“You should come home, Alisa.”