Chapter 4 – EMMA #2
My body doesn’t care about logic. It’s telling me to go to him, to cross this room full of predators, and to let this stranger protect me with those massive arms. Like he’d even want to. Like I’m not just another desperate woman whose body is going to be sold to the highest bidder in the room.
I force myself to look away before Kozlov notices me staring at his new employee like a lovesick teenager.
Get it together, Emma. He works for the man who’s going to pimp you out if he doesn’t get his money back.
I fidget with the stem of my champagne glass, studying the bubbles like they’re the most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen. But my awareness of Bodhi doesn’t fade. I can feel his presence across the room, feel the weight of his attention like a physical touch I can’t shake off.
Is he watching me?
I risk a glance.
He’s not. He’s working the velvet rope, letting some people through with a curt nod and turning others away with nothing more than a glance. A man in an expensive suit tries to argue his way past, gesturing toward the women visible behind the barrier.
“Leave,” Bodhi demands. One word. No explanation.
The suit’s face reddens. “Do you know who I…”
Bodhi doesn’t move. Doesn’t raise his voice. Just glares at him.
The man wilts. Actually wilts, muttering something about it looking “lame anyway,” before he retreats with what’s left of his dignity.
I shouldn’t find that attractive.
And yet, I can’t stop watching the way Bodhi moves, powerful and controlled, every gesture deliberate. The way his forearms flex when he crosses his arms. The way the other guards give him a wide berth, like even they’re not sure what he might do.
Broke his father’s spine with his bare hands.
I shiver. From fear, I tell myself. Definitely fear.
His head turns, just slightly, and our eyes meet again.
This time, the breath leaves my lungs. Heat floods my cheeks. I look away first, heart pounding, feeling caught. Feeling seen in a way I haven’t felt since this nightmare began.
Which is ridiculous, right? He’s a stranger. A criminal. Just happens to be one with excellent bone structure…
A blast of strong aftershave cuts through my spiralling thoughts as a man crowds me, standing far too close. I edge sideways along the polished bar, trying to create distance without drawing attention.
He’s in his mid-forties, face ruddy and his eyes glassy from the expensive red wine staining his lips.
“Magnificent creature,” he murmurs, not bothering to lower his voice.
I glance toward Dimitri, but he’s still distracted, laughing with the bartender, oblivious to what’s happening a few feet away. Around us, other men watch with detached interest, waiting to see how this plays out.
No one moves to help me.
“I’ll double the reserve,” the man offers. “Triple it. Tonight.”
My stomach drops.
His hand closes around my arm, grabby fingers soft but insistent. I try to pull back without making a scene, but his grip tightens, guiding me closer as though I’ve already agreed.
“I think I’m just the man to teach you,” he adds quietly, his breath heavy and unpleasant in my ear.
Panic claws up my throat. In a normal club, I’d shove him away. I’d cause a scene. Here, I know better. I keep my face neutral, my movements careful, even as his fingers dig in.
Then a voice cuts in behind me.
“I don’t think that’s how Mr. Kozlov conducts his business.”
The hand on my arm stills.
A shadow falls over us, solid and unmoving. I don’t need to turn around to know who it is. I can feel him there, his heat at my back, a presence that makes something in me loosen for the first time all night.
“Let go,” the voice says. Calm. Certain. Compelling.
The man looks up, his irritation shifting to unease as his eyes track higher, higher still. His grip eases, and he releases me.
I stumble back, straight into the wall of muscle behind me.
“She is not to be touched,” Bodhi says, his gaze sweeping the room, daring anyone to argue.
No one does.
“Thank you,” I breathe, rubbing my flesh where the German had grabbed me. Red marks form rings around my arm, but they should go away without bruising.
Bodhi glances down at my pink skin, jaw clenched, but says nothing. His hands find my elbows, and he carefully eases me away from his body. He waits until I’m steady on my feet before letting go completely and stepping back, taking his warmth and his musky scent with him.
My arms burn pleasantly where his skin touched mine, sending tingles skittering all the way to my fingertips. I flex my fingers, staring up at Bodhi, who’s looking right back at me, eyes swirling with something more intoxicating than anger.
“Well handled.” Kozlov appears then, his expression stormy, though he hides it well as he smiles at a passing guest. “But you’ll need to perfect your poker face, Emma, and at least pretend you don’t loathe speaking with prospective customers.”
He rests his hand on my hip and pinches hard, making sure I know he means business.
Keeping my expression neutral despite the pain, I swallow hard, fighting the urge to pull away.
Bodhi’s eyes zone in on where his boss touches me, and for a second, they brighten, glowing in the murky room. It must be a trick of the light.
“Just doing my job,” Bodhi replies, dragging his focus back to Kozlov’s face. “I know you don’t want some fool putting marks on your assets.”
“Stunning, isn’t she?” Kozlov says to Bodhi, watching his reaction. “I expect she’ll fetch a very high price.”
Bodhi barely glances at me.
“Not my type.” He shrugs, bored. “Looks like more trouble than she’s worth.”
The dismissal is so casual, so complete, that it takes a moment for me to register.
Well, screw him.
“You might be right.” Kozlov laughs. “But for some, that’s the appeal.” Kozlov looks over to where Dimitri’s leaning on the long bar, still flirting and completely oblivious to what’s even happened. “Dimitri?”
Kozlov’s impatient tone slices through the music. His second-in-command finally acknowledges his mistake and hurries over, face darkening, as he looks at Bodhi, then back at his boss, and realises something is going on.
“I was—”
Kozlov cuts him off with a mere flick of his fingers.
“Flirting while you were supposed to be protecting my investment. While Lennox did your job.” Kozlov’s tone could freeze vodka. If we weren’t in such a public place, I’d be worried for Dimitri’s safety.
The look Dimitri shoots Bodhi promises retribution, but Bodhi just tips his head to Kozlov when he spots three men waiting by the ropes, then returns to his post by the door as if nothing ever happened.
As he moves around me, his fingers ghost along my lower back, and heat pools low in my abdomen from that simple touch.
Am I so desperate for a hero that I’m lusting after the man who just referred to me as an asset?
With a withering look at Dimitri, Kozlov pulls his phone from his inside pocket and turns his back, speaking in rapid Russian.
When he turns back around, smug satisfaction radiates from him, and he nods toward one of his men, who’s stationed by a heavy black curtain on the far wall that I hadn’t noticed before.
“You’re lucky I’m still pleased with you for finding this one,” Kozlov mutters to Dimitri. “But don’t get complacent, brother.”
A tall, slim man flanked by two security guards enters through the ropes and walks straight to the curtain, which is held open just long enough for him to slip through.
Behind it, I catch a glimpse of a semi-circular booth that’s surrounded by guards, with one woman sitting alone, staring straight ahead with a look of fiery determination on her face.
As the man slides into a booth beside her, she looks at him with red-hot rage shining in her eyes, and a flicker of recognition tickles my brain before the curtain falls, and they’re shut off from view once more.
Kozlov pockets his phone and rubs his hands together as Dimitri stands by his side, staring at where the men disappeared from, a twisted smile on his scarred face. “It’s been a good night. Very promising.”
His smile turns predatory as he signals someone on the far side of the room and points at me. “Time for you to go.”
My stomach drops.
“Lennox, escort us out.”
Bodhi falls into step at my side as we exit through a secret door that looks like a mirror, down a concrete corridor that’s dull and unglamorous, like a service hallway and not a private entrance.
When we emerge, it’s into a nondescript dark section of the car park, far from the glamorous red carpet we walked down when we first arrived.
Two black sedans are waiting at the curb.
Here in the dark, crisp night air and without the comforting thrum of people and music all around, I instantly feel vulnerable again.
Every survival instinct is telling me not to get into those cars, to flee, but then common sense kicks in, and I realise I don’t have a chance of getting away, not here, not now. Not without getting Jake killed.
So instead, I give Kozlov a tight nod as he ushers me inside. I slide across to the far side of the black leather seat, hating how cold it feels against my bare skin.
“Dimitri, you stay with me.” Kozlov barks, hand still on the door, as he holds it wide.
“We still need to discuss tomorrow’s arrangements.
” He turns to Bodhi. “You will escort Miss Wilson. The driver knows where to go.” He steps away then, making room for Bodhi to pass, before adding, “And he’ll report back to me if you try anything stupid. ”
Dimitri mutters something in Russian but does as he’s told before tossing a final warning glare at the man mountain currently folding his huge frame into the seat beside me, filling up the rear of the vehicle and making the car dip beneath his weight.
Shuffling over further, suddenly aware that I’m trapped in this tiny space with a man who’s got a violent reputation, my heart pounds.
“Am I going back to the apartment?” I ask.
I spent last night locked in a bedroom in an expensive penthouse apartment that was clearly doubling as a brothel. The kind of place most of the women in the VIP area tonight would bring their ‘dates’ back to after some money changed hands.
I’m guessing it’s Kozlov’s way of showing me what’s in store if Jake doesn’t come through. While nobody touched me, there were knocks on the door all through the night, and I barely slept, afraid someone would get into my room.
“No, my dear.” Kozlov gives me a patient smile. “That was just a temporary arrangement. You’re going to be staying with me.”
I freeze. I thought the apartment was horrible, but now I’m wondering if it’s not the lesser of two evils.
“Don’t be scared,” he says, giving the driver the signal that we’re ready to go. “Nobody will touch you. Not before the auction.”
My gaze darts from Bodhi’s face to Kozlov’s, then to Dimitri. “What auction?”
Amused, Kozlov studies me. “For you. For your… innocence.” He smirks. “That must be protected. You’ll stay with me until you’re handed over. Lennox will make sure nothing happens to you.”
Auction. Owner.
“Dimitri will check in every hour,” Kozlov adds, eyes flicking to Bodhi. “Don’t make me regret giving you this responsibility.”
I grip the door handle, struggling to breathe. “You said I needed to work off Jake’s debt.”
Kozlov watches comprehension dawn, like my distress is his personal entertainment. “And you will.” He laughs. “Many times over.” He turns to walk away.
Stuttering, I call after him. “What then?”
The car begins to pull away before he looks back.
A heartless shrug.
“You’re no longer my concern.”