Chapter 4
FOUR
“C ome on, Milo. Let’s have some fun in the back rooms...”
I sling back the inch of vodka sitting in my glass before glancing down at my arm—which Nadia is stroking her lithe fingers up and down—resisting the urge to grimace at the sight of her hands on me. It’s not that she’s unattractive, but nothing about this woman gets my dick hard. Or any woman lately.
No, my dick only seems to react to one man—one I should be keeping my distance from, if I know what’s good for me.
I clearly don’t know what’s good for me, or I wouldn’t have waited outside Club Palma for Alvaro. I don’t even know why I did it. After years of dancing around the magnetic attraction, I guess I just couldn’t help myself. He and his damn attitude are too hard to resist. And the fact it’s his birthday was just an excuse to see him—not that I needed one. It sure didn’t seem to bother him.
Tonight was a moment of weakness; one that I can’t find it in me to regret, even if it was just a reminder of exactly why he’s been putting a wall up between us. We’re meant to be enemies.
After watching Alvaro storm off like I pissed in his cereal, I found myself stalking towards Amadeus, a club owned by the Federovs, and the closest one to my location. It’s got the whole Greek Deities vibe going on. The staff walk around in white robes and gold paint, crowns placed atop their heads like they’re gods. The irony is that none of these people have any power at all, that’s saved for the Russians.
I often come here just before bar-close, when the patrons are already leaving and I can settle into my thoughts for a while amongst the thinning crowd. Unfortunately, I won’t be getting that tonight.
Nadia is one of the top earners in Amadeus, no doubt due to her persistence. She brings in a lot of money for the Russians, which makes her a prized possession for the likes of Konstantin. She wears her jet black hair pin straight, the length skating just above her ass, which draws the right amount of attention to the pert cheeks that are currently poking out beneath the hem of her outfit—which is more like a tiny bedsheet than anything else.
“ I’m not in the mood ,” I grouch back in Russian.
Nadia curls herself around my body until she’s caged herself between me and the bar. She flicks her hair over her shoulder, fluttering her gold painted eyelashes as she wraps her arms around my neck. Up close, she smells like cigars; a tell-tale sign she’s paid a visit to our boss. “That’s not what you said the other night,” she purrs.
That was before my lips landed on a certain Italian’s. Now, I can’t get the kiss out of my head. I still feel the ghost of his firm lips on mine, the palpable hunger as he pulled me in. I know I’m flying close to the sun—pun intended— but Alvaro and his damn attitude are such a turn-on that I don’t mind getting burned. After getting a taste, I want more. I would’ve been on my knees if the taste of tequila hadn’t slipped across my tongue. Despite the reputation I’ve earned, fucking a drunk guy is definitely out of the question.
Nadia runs her tongue along my jawline in what I can only assume is an attempt to seduce me. It would probably work if my mind wasn’t transfixed on green eyes that pierce my soul, or the gruff voice that whispered my name right before I kissed it from his lips.
My jaw flickers with irritation as I peel Nadia’s arms from around my neck. The last hole I want to be in tonight is hers, and she must sense it from the way I reach past her and slam my glass down on the bar top, signaling for another drink.
The bartender gives me a curt nod before grabbing the bottle of vodka and placing it in front of me, giving me free reign to top myself off at my leisure. Perks of working for the Federovs .
“I said, I’m not in the mood,” I snap, snatching the bottle of vodka up and swiveling in my seat, dumping her off my lap. Clearly, Nadia’s in the mood to test me, but I’ve had more than my fill of her for one night. I stalk away from the bar with her grating voice calling after me.
Pushing through the door to the back, I head for the staff suite. I find Kai sprawled out across one of the couches, two women dressed in nothing but underwear and their gold crowns are dancing above him. Coke decorates the table situated near him, lines half snorted and ones about to be.
“Wanna share?” he smirks when he spots me entering.
I don’t know if he means the women or the drugs, but either way, I shake my head.
“They’re all yours,” I reply as I head towards the empty couch opposite him. Any other time, I’d jump at the chance. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve shared a woman with my second, but my head—and my cock—aren’t in the game tonight.
The staff suite is where the workers can hang out, amongst other things. It’s basically the only place Konstantin allows his staff to interact with each other freely, and many take advantage of that. It’s a large, dark room, coated in shadows and decorated with burgundy leather couches. Low music plays in the background, the sexy beat pulsing through my body.
I sink back into my seat, watching from afar as Kai slides his hands over one of the dancer’s bodies. Typically, I’d find the scene hot as fuck, but my mind keeps drifting back to Alvaro.
Yebat.
“What’s wrong, Bratan?”
My gaze flits to Kai. “Nothing,” I lie.
He pushes to his feet, shouldering past the two women who were halfway through slipping their panties off. Crossing the room, he drops down onto the couch beside me, snatching the bottle from my hand. “You’re a lousy liar. Talk to me.”
“Malakai,” I warn. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
I can practically see his eyeballs roll to the back of his head in response. We’ve worked together for too long for me to be able to hide shit from him. Kai’s a good guy deep down, and I can’t drag him into my drama. He’s got enough to handle without me adding to it.
“Come on, Milo. I know you.” He gives me a pointed look. Sometimes I really hate that he knows me so well.
Snatching the bottle back from his tattooed hands, I bring the rim to my lips, taking a large gulp.
“That bad, huh?” he chuckles as he watches me guzzle the vodka like it’s water. “So, who is it?”
I lower the bottle, wiping my mouth off on my sleeve while contemplating how much I can tell Kai before it becomes a problem. The truth is, it’s all a problem. One big, fat problem. “Someone I have no business thinking about,” I admit.
“ Yet you just can’t help yourself?”
I nod silently in confirmation, fist gripping the neck of the vodka bottle. The alcohol is doing nothing to numb my memory thus far. As soon as I think about how close I was to taking it further than just one fucking kiss, my dick twitches to life. Alvaro and I have danced around each other for a couple of years, using the obvious as a barrier. While I’ve enjoyed the push and pull, he’s determined to fight the inevitable.
I’d considered the fact that Alvaro might not be openly gay, or bisexual. In our world, there’s so much expected of us as men that being intimate with another could call our leadership into question. I’ve seen how the Russians deal with non-conformities—it isn’t pretty. On the other hand, I’ve questioned if Alvaro even realizes he’s attracted to men. That would explain his animosity towards me.
No, he knows what he wants. He’s just ashamed it’s me.
Thankfully, Kai takes my silence as a cue to return to his previous activity, pushing up from the couch and walking back over to his female companions. I watch the girls giggle as he helps peel off their panties one after the other, tossing a pair at me before burying his face in a set of tits.
I sink back the bottle of vodka, watching the show before me as if it’s what I need to throw my thoughts off course. As much as I love the distraction, Bonanno is still at the forefront of my mind.
And he’s still my enemy.
Whether I fuck him or not.
* * *
M y hangover sets in like a fog, encompassing me until my brain feels like it might implode. Consuming a bottle of vodka before going to bed was not the best idea. I struggle to sleep as it is, but apparently, that didn’t matter. My brain was more than happy to replay the moment between Bonanno and I over and over, until daylight broke. The lack of sleep has left me disoriented and on edge, and I’m struggling to decipher Konstantin's words as he paces back and forth in front of me.
Thoughts of Alvaro’s mouth crushed against mine hold me captive. I run my fingertip across my bottom lip, tilting my head and closing my eyes as I remember what it felt like to have his body pressed against me.
“Milo!”
My eyes snap open.
“ Did you hear me?” Konstantin’s sharp voice assaults me, deep and brash.
I search my brain for the right answer, but my pause makes my boss impatient.
His brows furrow as he steps closer, concern deepening his features. “ What is wrong with you today? You look like you haven’t slept.”
I resist the urge to tell him that his assumption is right, because the last thing he needs is an exhausted advisor. Instead, I reposition myself in my chair and shake my head. “I’m just thinking,” I lie.
Vadim, Konstantin’s brother, mumbles something under his breath, inciting me to shoot my glare across the room.
“ Get your head in the game. I need to know what The Five are up to,” Konstantin grumbles at me.
I nod obediently, shuffling in my seat. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
“And send Kai to The Laundromat, their weekly payments are due,” Konstantin snaps.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so wound up, but I understand why. He’s eager to bring more shipments in, and without The Five’s endorsement, he’ll be bankrupt within a few months. I have to give it to them, though—The Five built an empire even the Russians are envious of. Coming to own most of the city couldn’t have been an easy feat, but I know their legacy stretches back at least two generations. The Italians have what the Russians crave, and it’s not going to be easy for us to take it away.
“Lutzko wants to know when he can send over the first shipment,” Vadim states boredly, tapping on his phone. His salt and pepper hair covers half of his face, concealing the scar that spans across his eye. He never talks about how he got it, but the rumors spread long ago that he was tortured, barely making it out alive.
I’ve never liked Konstantin’s brother, so the fact he survived the torture is a sort of disappointment to me. Vadim is younger by a few years, but instead of being tall like his brother, he boasts a large gut and short stature. Despite his unassuming appearance, he has a hold on Konstantin like no other. Where my boss makes the decisions, I know they’re heavily influenced by the man sitting to the left of his desk.
“Tell Lutzko to wait,” Konstantin growls impatiently, rolling his neck on his shoulders irritably as he darts his brother a stern glance. Unfortunately, the Russians aren’t known for their patience, and it’ll be my head on the chopping block if I don’t get a meeting with The Five soon.
Once a month, I oversee the shipments that come into the docks. Alvaro insists on supervising, though I suspect it has something to do with me and not just his role. With a face like his, I’m not complaining. I’m more than happy to have his eyes on me at any opportunity.
“He won’t wait for long. You know Lutzko is an impatient man,” Vadim remarks.
Konstantin slams his fist on the desk, his body vibrating with anger as his voice booms across the room. “Lutzko will wait because I said so!”
Silence envelops us all, the air in the room turning static. Vadim’s cheeks have turned a subtle shade of red, while his brother heaves deeply, huffing out his fury. Everything always turns into an argument with the Federovs. Their fiery personalities clash—plus, the fact Vadim always believes he should lead over his older brother—and it causes a lot of tension between them.
Feeling the need to diffuse the impending conflict, I stand from my chair and address them both. “We need to increase our shipments without supervision,” I remind Vadim calmly. “If we can gain their trust with more than one shipment a month, then we can start looking at bringing in other merchandise.”
“You’re right. We need to make them think we’re following their rules,” Konstantin sighs, rubbing his brow exhaustedly.
Vadim snorts a laugh. “And how are we supposed to do that?”
“I have my resources,” I supply, turning to face him. I hate the way he looks at me; like I have no business being here. He despises me because his brother entrusted me to be his second-in-command, not him .
I understand why Konstantin chose me. Vadim has zero leadership skills and far too much arrogance. He’d get himself and his brother killed if he was in my role, worse if he actually led the Bratva. While I lack the experience Konstantin has, I’ve proven over and over that I am more than reliable. You don’t just fall into the Bratva. You have to show your loyalty and dedication, and Konstantin clearly saw how determined I was to make a life for myself amongst them. Even if it came with moral compromise.
“I still want that information, Sovietnik,” Konstantin demands as he circles his desk.
“You’ll have it,” I reply confidently.