Chapter Three - Akim
The plan to frame Michael Jane worked out brilliantly, and now, it’s time to blow off some steam and unwind. And there’s no better place to let loose than in the privacy of my own cocktail bar. I’m not a man who gets too worked up often. Mostly, I’m cool, calm, and collected, the monster inside me only coming out when I need it to. It’s only with my close acquaintances and family that I like to party and indulge like everyone else.
With my arms stretched out over the back of my leather lounge and vodka in hand, I bob my head to the syncopated house beats being remixed by the DJ in the corner of the room. Yes. Life should be good. I’ve got money, power, a city firmly in my grip, and now I’ve resolved a pesky issue that’s gotten the Pakhan off my ass.
It’s never ending, Akim. What you’ve signed up for. I shut down the nagging devil of a voice perched on my shoulder, assessing the buffet of hot ass in the room.
I can have any one of the women I want, and most nights this brings me a great deal of temporary satisfaction, and I think nothing of bedding one of the ladies and sending her on her way. It’s of mutual benefit, and sometimes I might extend the party with them for a couple of weeks, but never more. I don’t do attachments—I can’t. It’s too deadly in my profession, and for other reasons.
Lately, though, there’s been a void growing inside me that has been too hard to fill. These club girls are the same faces I see week in and week out, just masked in different dresses.
Tonight… I want someone different—refreshing. I can’t put my finger on whom, but I’ll know when I see it.
Draining the last of my drink, I smile over at my main right hand, Boris, who’s smooth talking into one of the lucky women’s ears, and he seems happy enough with himself. I wish I was him right now. Dissatisfied, I want to take myself out of the room, but stay put, hoping the vodka will block out whatever’s got a hold on me.
This is one of many clubs I own or manage near River North in Chicago. I own most of the clubs in the area, but I’ve still got some payoffs to make in order to own the whole strip. I could do it tomorrow if I wanted to, but I’m benefitting from those already in occupancy, taking a hefty cut and letting Ryurik distribute his product through them.
The ones I own are suave, high-end cocktail bars, others have five-star restaurants attached to them along with classy rooftop bars. I steer clear of the larger club and DJ scene these days. They’re too much headache for me. Besides, I’m more of a man who enjoys smaller, luxurious spaces and indulging in the beauty of sophisticated women.
I let that be Ryurik’s domain, but I’m the one who paved the way for my cousin, helping him set up drug distributors and the right networks to thrive in the city. Brothers in arms, but the kicker is, I’m the king in my own right. I bring double the revenue he does, except with wealthier clients on board and including my weapons trafficking, I’m a favorite pet of the Pakhan. I’m not as hungry for the seat as some of my brothers, but if I wanted to contest for it as my business expands, it’s likely I could.
A healthy rivalry in the Bratva is a necessary evil at times. It’s safe to say, Chicago is our town. I’ve come a long way from the impoverished village streets of Moscow. That story seems like a lifetime gone by. All I have is the hazy jagged memories and the black and white photo of a woman I used to love.
House music thrums through the walls of Sky Lever, the leather stools in the main bar affixed to the floor and illuminated with sky-blue light underneath them. A nice neon touch I incorporated into the design when I revamped the club, matching the sexy, blue lights behind the bar.
“And what’s this one for?” the nameless lady with long brunette hair sitting on my lap enquires, dislodging me from my discontent. She runs her cherry red finger down the scorpion tattoo inked along the length of my neck. Her hands trail down farther and I turn my eyes to her with a wicked smile. “It simply means I’ve a serious sting. Watch out,” I explain in a smooth tone, her manicured finger irritating the hell out of me.
Her green eyes light up and she grins a little too close to my face. “You’re so funny.” I grin right back at her, but meant what I said. Often, I tell people the raw truth, but they refuse to believe it. It’s all in the tone I use.
Time to get her out of my fucking face once and for all. Grabbing her by the scruff of her neck, I draw her fat, red rouge lips down to my face, kissing her hard, my tongue coated with vodka and tainted by life’s poison. I wait, wondering when my cock’s going to play ball, but it stays firmly in place.
She’s not the one for the night. I let her loose, her eyes flinging open as she gasps in lust. “Fuck, Akim. Take me somewhere. Anywhere,” she blubbers, the kiss doing more for her, than it did for me. Her hand wraps around the base of my neck as I study her, feeling number than ever.
“No,” I retort sharply. “You’re pretty. Nice tits. And I hope you enjoy your night at the club. Do you mind?” I reply evenly delivering the same sting I just warned her about. Her face drops, the harsh delivery jarring the woman whose name I can’t remember.
“Um… okay. Was it something I said?” she pleads, still confused.
“No. It’s nothing you said. It’s me, not you as the saying goes. I’m having an off night.” The woman brightens, her smile returning.
“Well, we can talk about it. I’m sure I can make it a better night.”
This is boring as fuck and too easy. I adjust my navy pinstripe suit, rising to my full six foot four inches. “I’m sure you can do it for someone else. Just not me.” Sailing past her after delivering my blow, I add another vodka to my woes and meet Luka and Boris at the bar where they’re staring at the women in the room.
“Hey. No good?” Boris asks, downing his beer as he winks at a hot blonde near the door.
“She’s fine, just not what I’m after,” I explain, leaning against the bar as the music switches.
“Hmm. Plenty more out front in the main bar; it’s starting to fill up,” Boris remarks as I shake my brother Luka’s hand. It’s my first time interacting with him for the night, and he looks as happy as Boris about being here, which only adds to my bad mood. Everyone’s having fun, but me.
“Uh-huh. I’m sure about it,” I quip, sipping as the ladies all eye me. Makes sense. I’m hard to miss at six four, and with raven black hair and a world of crazy inked stories all over my body, I’m a crowd favorite. Every woman wants to fulfil her bad boy fantasy with me at one time or another.
What they fail to realize is I look like one, and I really am one.
“Hey, how did it go with cops and the weapons raid? Lose much?” Luka asks casually, sipping his drink. Wincing, I take a sip of my drink. “We won and we lost.”
“How so?” Luka flings back.
“The cops now know we’re transporting guns, and confiscated millions of dollars’ worth of merchandise. I still have to fill those orders and find alternative routes. The good news is they’re not going to be looking our way because we pinned it on our logistics partner.”
“Fucking hell. Not bad, but like you say, not without loss,” Luka replies.
“Tell me about it. But I’ve already scoped out a new route. But there’s danger and high risk. Our people are delivering all our products on this new route in the interim.” I sigh. “This time we’ve got better coverage with law enforcement on payroll in the places it counts. Sometimes you have to do a job yourself to make sure it gets done properly,” I grumble.
“You might be right. Moscow via New York Port Authority, then road transport with our men at the stops is the way to go. More check points, but with the right cops on payroll in place.” Boris snickers, but frustration brews, thinking about how much of a pain in the ass Michael Jane has been to our operation.
I considered it risky business to work with a man outside of the Bratva in the first place, but it’s not as if I didn’t test the desperate sucker several times. He passed with flying colors, but missed the mark on this one.
I warned him at the start of the agreement, but now when I think of it, Michael was the perfect complement to our business. If one of our Bratva men had been caught, they would have ended up in jail and it would have cost more than the double-digit millions it already has.
“Correct. I’m heading into the main bar. Stay. Take my seconds tonight.” I smirk, knowing that neither one of them could pull the women of my caliber. “Enjoy yourself,” I advise Boris, unimpressed with them all loitering around waiting to be selected.
“Okay. You know where to find me.” He grins, already occupied with another woman of his fancy.
I take a quick look at my phone, wanting to bury the burdens of Michael Jane in somebody for the night. As much as I hate to admit it, Michael was a valuable asset to the Bratva. Technically he still is by taking this fall. Texting our latest driver and receiving the all clear eases my irritation somewhat. Swiftly, I avoid the rest of the women in the room strolling to the public bar. Exhaling, I take a quick look around and nothing captures my attention here either.
What the fuck is this shit tonight? I toss back the rest of my drink, considering I might have to give up and try again tomorrow.
It’s a good thing I don’t, taking the time to linger near the bar long enough to spot a pair of long, slim legs swaying in through the bar’s doors. A combustion of heat fires through my loins. I scale my eyes up to the beautiful gazelle of a woman’s body and her exquisite face, complemented by long waves of honey-caramel hair.
She’s my type. Elegant, confident and with a touch of fire. And her soft lavender off-the-shoulder dress highlights her tanned, flawless skin.
If I wasn’t so mesmerized by her features, I would have organized a VIP booth for her, but I rein in my open pleasure of watching her captivate the bar crowd with every elongated stride.
She’s almost too beautiful, and compared to the other women I’ve been with, she’s a knockout. Her innocent blue eyes are perfectly offset by her layered jewelry and provocative mouth, and what the hell is the scent she’s emitting?
I don’t notice Boris’s presence next to me until he speaks. “Now I understand why you’re out here.”
“Exactly,” I reply slowly, my cock and heart pounding, hanging back as she takes a seat up at the bar. A group of men are already egging each other on as to who’s going to approach her first. I’m not worried about them. If necessary, I can get rid of the mosquitos, because what I want— I take . Especially if the possession is as beautiful as her.
Boris sneers. “More to your liking, huh?”
“Oh yes.” As my cock stirs, we make eye contact, an electric loop of lust cycling between us. Oh yeah. You want me. I want you. I tell her the story through the penetrating heat of my gaze, but her crystal blue eyes break contact first. “Her. She’s what I want tonight.”
The most intriguing thing of all, is that she’s on her lonesome, with no friends in tow. Dangerous on her part. Her air of confidence is refreshing, but I can tell she’s young. Old enough to be in my bar, but— taking a wild stab—younger than thirty.
The good news is, Michael Jane is the furthest thing from my mind right now. All I want to do is find out who the woman is who’s stopped traffic in my cocktail club.
Chapter Four - Kiara
I’ve never stepped foot in Sky Lever, but as soon as I do, my shoulders tense momentarily from the intimidating crowd surrounding me. There’s beautiful people everywhere. The men are good-looking, most of them are wearing suits, and the women are equally stunning.
I walk slowly through the door, but hesitate having this uncontrollable urge to pivot and turn right back around. The neon lights flashing in my head match the ones behind the bar.
Alert. Danger. Alert. Danger. Go home. Holding my breath as my stilettos clink across the floor, I take a deep breath, remembering the reason I’m here. I’m no slouch when I get dressed up, but usually I’m hunched over my computer in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants trying to make or break codes.
This isn’t the type of bar I would be caught dead in. It doesn’t look like that much fun. It’s for an older, more sophisticated type of crowd, but as I walk in, I’m hoping the way I’ve done my makeup, and my off-the-shoulder dress presents me as older than my twenty-two years.
I fool myself and everybody else, extending my legs and giving just enough hip sway to gain the attention of thirsty male onlookers. These aren’t the people who I care about ogling at me. I’m looking for one man, and one man only. Heading to the bar, I find a stool closer to the door strategically.
His name is Akim Utkin. If Emily can snag and conquer a Bratva man, it shouldn’t be a problem for me to do it. After all, she’s been like a sister to me. I found his name on outgoing invoices in my father’s office before the police combed through it, flipping it upside down. Interestingly enough, I found the same invoices with his name on it after the raid. That fact alone is what’s led me here, because the police would have seen his name signed on the documents as well. That means somebody in the Chicago Police Department has knowledge about him and is complicit in covering up the Bratva’s crimes.
They don’t care. This is why I must take matters into my own hands and save my father’s life. Thinking of how poorly my father’s already been treated on the inside procures an asinine bitterness. Bastards… Automatically my nerves settle as my eyes scan the bar looking for my prey.
Raven black hair. Slicked back with gel. Well-tailored suit. Tall enough for me to climb. Tattoos. Obsidian eyes. And enough intimidation factor to elicit deep shivers down my spine. When I connected with the darkness in his eyes on his nightclub profile picture, I wish I hadn’t, because merciless cruelty is all I saw in them.
Soon enough my eyes land on my chosen prey. His energy cuts through the room making a direct pathway to me. The intimidation factor returns as my eyes hold his for a split second too long. I snatch back my gaze, my palms clammy to touch. God. What is this feeling he’s giving me?
I signal to the bartender for a drink, calculating my next move. Shuddering from the intense eye contact, I keep my back to him. Akim’s human and a cocky Bratva man. He must have a weakness, and it’s likely with all these beautiful women in here, it could be a woman. All I have to do is figure out a way to attract him, but judging from the invasive glare he just gave me, I might not have to do much else to draw him to me.
Wrapping my hands around my glass, I sip slowly hoping Akim comes over, but in the same breath wanting to stay alone so I go home and regroup from his chilling eyes. That intense eye contact is a little tough to handle.
“Hi.” Akim’s voice isn’t what I imagined it to be. In my head, I thought it would have more bass than it does, but when he speaks it’s more like a hypnotic lullaby.
“Um, hi.” I keep it short, avoiding looking directly at him. Red-hot tingles prick down my spine from his close proximity, and is that a scorpion tattoo on his neck? Shit. But I keep telling myself I’ve got what it takes to get him to leave with me. If Emily can do it, so can I.
“Are you here alone? A woman as beautiful as you shouldn’t be drinking alone.” A common line made palatable by a snake charmer, and it’s not as if I’m completely immune, despite my reasoning for being here. I don’t want to be excited by him, but his suaveness is hard to withdraw from.
“I’m fine. I just came out to enjoy the music and the people. I’ve been wanting to check this place out for a long time. It’s got a good vibe,” I say nonchalantly as if these are the types of places I belong in, even though I would rather be at a slumber party with my girlfriend’s watching movies and eating popcorn.
“It has an even better vibe now that you’re in it. I don’t mean to be too forward, but you are fucking gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” I smile graciously at him, finding it hard to believe this is the same man who put my father in jail. “You’re handsome yourself. Is this your type of bar to come to?” I ask him innocently.
A smirk rises on his mouth as he puts his drink down, his finger circling the rim of the empty glass. “I own Sky Lever. So yeah. I would say this is the type of bar I like to be in.” He grins as I pretend to be awed by his status, chuckling along with him.
“Oh wow. I didn’t realize. That’s a funny coincidence.”
“Yes, it is. Another drink, pretty lady?”
“Yeah. Why not. I’m ready to really unwind and have a good time tonight,” I reply less than subtly, laying my intentions on thick.
“That’s what I like to hear.” We flirt back and forth, but the more we talk, the more I’m anxious to execute my plan. Eventually, we leave for Akim’s lakeside penthouse near Bennett Park. As we drive into his underground parking lot and I look up at the 66-residence tower, I wonder if anybody will be able to hear me scream if something happens to me.
Stick to the plan. That’s all you have to do, and things will work out.
When Akim opens the door, I’m blown away by the luxury of the place, including the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, where the twinkling lights of Chicago’s skyscrapers bedazzle me. Akim is a far cry from the computer geeks I used to meet in class, that’s for sure.
Akim slips his fingers through mine as he drops me down on his large cream chaise lounge, dragging me to his lap quicker than I expect, not leaving time to think. I thought we might have a nightcap first, but he’s a little too keen to get started.
My purse. I have to keep track of it. Where is it? Holding on to the strap, Akim groans, lost in the moment as he inhales against my neck, all while dragging the bag out of my hand.
“You smell like fucking heaven. You are like a doll. Do you model?” he murmurs, his hands sliding up and down my back, his raven hair burying itself in the crevice of my chest.
Keep going. You only have to keep this up for a short time. Giggling, I place a hand on his chest as a barrier to slow him down, flipping my hair in his face as a deterrent.
“Whoa, whoa, cowboy. Take it easy. What’s your rush?” I ask him curiously, but panic’s setting in.
“Sorry, sorry. You’re right, but you’re like nothing I’ve ever seen. There’s something special about you,” he replies, both his hands cupping my face under all my hair and his lips pressing hard onto mine. I hate that I feel a tingle between my legs when his mouth prizes mine apart, his tongue insistent, yet gentle.
Heat flares as I let my guard down enough, his kiss more spell bounding than I want it to be. His hands somehow find their way underneath my dress as he cups my ass, pulling me forward to the hard length of him.
Shit. I’ve never taken it this far before. Only heavy petting. I’m not ready for a man like him.
“Umm—whoa.” Pulling back, I take a breath as Akim’s eyes fly open, his hips grinding into me. I tuck my bottom lip in, thinking I could handle this moment—but I fold, because I can’t.
“Is everything okay?” Akim asks breathily, his eyes darkening with passion as I take an up-close gaze at his eyes through the shadows. They’re more dark chocolate than black with specks of other colors in them. I finger the tattoo on his neck with a mild smile.
“Umm, maybe not. I, er… I’m not what you think,” I blurt out, not knowing how to broach the topic.
Akim doesn’t move me off his lap, his hot breath and eyes on my chest as his hands hold on tight to my waist. “Wouldn’t be the first time, and that’s not the big deal you think it is. I’m not what you think I am either,” he responds without faltering.
I put a firmer hand to his chest, surprised to feel how hard his heart is pounding. “No, I, um….” I trail off, tucking my hair behind my ear as I look down at the sizeable bulge in his slacks. “I came to the club to lose my virginity. I feel left behind with my friends. I’m twenty-two, and I guess I thought I could come home with you and lose it.”
Akim grins in shock. “Ohhh. I get it.” He nods, his knuckle stroking the side of my face. “You’re an even rarer breed than I thought you were, then,” he whispers, inching forward to kiss me tenderly, and it’s even more gratifying than his first kiss.
The hard knot in my stomach unfurls itself as the mood lightens up and I slowly untangle myself from his lap. He watches me carefully as I sit on the couch next to him, adjusting my dress, and thankfully there’s a bottle of red Pinot in front of us on the coffee table. That’s going to give me the lucky break I need.
The room is bathed in darkness, but lit up by Chicago’s grand lights, and I’m realizing Akim planned to get straight down to business. A chill spirals through me as he stands to his imposing full height, walking away. “Make yourself at home.” As the thud in my chest amplifies, I lick my tongue around my dry lips, deciding whether it’s now or never.
“Ah, this looks like a nice red. Can I pour us a glass each?” I propose, popping open a capsule inside my purse, careful about the contents not spilling out. Quickly, I pour his glass first, then mine, darting my eyes from his glass to him, gauging how many seconds I have to do this.
“You know what? That’s the perfect idea. We can relax together.” He sighs, stretching and taking off his jacket. He yawns, dropping it neatly over the back of the couch. Good. More time for me. As he approaches, panic bubbles inside me, my cheeks feeling flushed. He looks down at the glasses with a happy smile. “Are you not going to pour yourself one?”
“Oh yeah!” I giggle nervously, giving him a cheesy smile as I pour my own drink. Shit. I forgot. Maybe he’s suspicious. Doubts creep in, but now I’m trapped, but Akim gives me a second chance burying his nose in my neck and sniffing as I go about pouring my own drink.
I hold his head in position making a few gurgling sounds to show him how aroused I am, taking the opportunity to dip my hand in my purse.
“You might be a virgin, but you know how to turn me on alright,” he mutters as the dissolvable powder floats to the bottom of his glass. I’m glad it’s red and not white so he can’t see it. I pray it’s enough to knock him out. If it’s not, I’m in trouble, but it won’t take much of the stuff.
“Sorry. I don’t mean to be a tease, but you’re too attractive, so tall, and all these bad boy tattoos. What do they even mean?” I flirt, swirling his drink discreetly, handing it to him.
Akim readjusts his package, but his eyes are still thirsty with desire. He doesn’t tell me about the tattoos but answers my other question.
“You’re not a tease, trust me. You’re an irresistible woman and it’s hard to keep myself off you.” Blinking a couple of times, I notice tiny particles of residue near the rim of his glass, horrified at my misstep. If he notices, I can kiss my short twenty-two-year life goodbye. Painfully, I watch as my heart skips. He gulps down a large swallow of wine bringing me relief.
“I guess I can take that as a compliment,” I reply. If I’ve played my cards right, then I’ve got under half an hour before Akim starts sinking.
“You can.” He eases his arm over the back of the couch, turning inwards as I relax more. “You asked about my tattoos.”
“Yeah. The scorpion on your neck is really something.”
“I think it’s self-explanatory. Don’t you?” Akim’s fingers dance over my skin, goose bumps prickling under his deft touch.
“Maybe,” I toy. “I guess I just wanted you to explain.”
Akim smiles, surprising me with his warmth. “I do have a sting to me, but that’s probably the tamest of my tattoos. They do have meanings, but if I tell you, I’m going to have to kill you.” He chuckles, taking another sip of his poisoned drink.
“Well, I want to stay alive, thanks. Are you single?”
Akim’s fingers circle around my forearm, his brow furrowing as he blinks his eyes open.
“Ah… yes. It’s hard to find the right woman in my business. It can get lonely sometimes, because everyone is out for blood,” he admits, his eyes shifting. If I’m not mistaken, I think I see a sadness in them, but I refuse to feel sorry for such a heartless man.
“What business is that?” I ask, feeling calmer, his eyes becoming droopy. Shit, this is working. Night, night, Akim. You’re going to sleep for the night soon.
“Clubs and other ventures. You’re not like the others. You carry yourself with class, and I like that. You shouldn’t rush to lose your virginity,” he slurs, my confidence growing.
I drain the rest of my red wine, nodding my head at the contradiction. “But you would have happily taken it if I wanted to keep going, wouldn’t you?” I propose.
Akim’s head starts to wobble. “Only if it’s something you wanted me to take. Let’s talk about you. What are your hopes and dreams?”
“Hopes and dreams? That’s a deep question. Can I trust you with those?” I reply cautiously as Akim shakes his head, finishing off his drink.
“Sure you can. I might even be able to help you with them,” he remarks, struggling to find the table to set his glass down.
“I’m a computer science major.”
“Computer science,” he slurs, saliva dribbling from the side of his mouth. “Um,” he coughs. “Sorry. I er—I feel strange. I think it’s been a long day maybe.”
“Yeah, long day, huh?” I pour a little more red wine in my own glass celebrating the poison hitting Bratva’s boss’s bloodstream.
I watch on as Akim’s eyes flutter and he shuts down, falling forward onto me. I capture his head, not knowing what to do for a second, waiting to see if it’s 100 percent accurate. A few seconds later, I listen to his light snoring. Yes, yes, yes. I’m being painstakingly careful to slide out from underneath his heavy weight letting his head rest on the couch.
“Your day might have been long, but your night’s about to be even longer,” I murmur under my breath as I pat down his pockets. “Shit! Where’s your phone?” I whisper under my breath reaching over the back of the couch into his jacket pocket, finding what I’m looking for.
I ease the phone into my own pocket, gasping loudly as Akim stirs, reaching out and grabbing my arm as he sleeps. “Hmm. Mat, Mat,” he cries out in a whisper as I pry his fingers off my arm, realizing he’s in a deep sleep. Frowning, I stare down at him wondering what the hell he’s talking about. Who or what is Mat?
I’ve got to get out of here before he wakes up and finds out what I’ve done. Discreetly, I reach inside my purse, pulling out my extraction device, clipping into Akim’s phone. Thirty seconds. That’s all I need, and I’ll have everything I want.
The next thirty seconds feels like thirty years, but I hold on waiting for all his cell phone data to load on the device and run out as fast as I can afterwards.
Thank God I got out alive.