Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Viktor
Ten Minutes Earlier…
“ C ome on, a few hours,” pleads Jess as she strokes my arm.
The whine in her voice is starting to get to me. “I said no,” I respond brusquely.
“But baby,” she whines, “I want to have alone time with you.”
“I’m not in the mood, Jess. I’m done with you,” I say, pointedly turning my back on her. I don’t know how many times I need to say it. It was one night, and she is as pathetic as most of the women I encounter. They bore me.
“Aww, Viktor, come on.” She obviously isn’t getting the message as she tries to sit on my lap.
I push her off. “Learn some respect,” I snarl as I turn to my brother “Oliver, escort her out.”
“You can’t?—”
I stop listening to Jess. My attention is drawn to the front door when it opens and a young woman walks in. I’ve never seen her before. I’d remember her. She is visibly nervous but fighting to hide it. No one enters the restaurant unless invited.
She talks to Tina, who struggles to hear her.
Suddenly she raises her voice, “I said I’m here to see Mr. Manarch.” The room instantly quiets, and now I can hear their conversation clearly. I am intrigued as to why she’s here.
Tina asks if she has an appointment, and she says no. Her face shows annoyance.
“He’s not available. If you would like to?—”
“Let her in,” I interrupt. I need to know who she is, how she became brave enough to walk in here, and why?
Her eyes meet mine. She looks tired. She is tiny, maybe five foot two inches and wearing well-worn clothes. But it doesn’t take away how beautiful she is, with a perfectly proportioned hourglass figure and long brown hair tied in a high ponytail.
Tina leads her to my table.
“Sit,” I demand, pointing at the vacant chair opposite me.
“No, thank you. I’m here to find out who dared to lend a gambler without a penny to his name one hundred thousand dollars,” she spits.
Feisty. She intrigues me.
No one wanting to live would ever speak to me like this.
“Are you a cop?” I ask, even though I know she isn’t. It is written all over her. Not to mention the fear in her eyes is real. She knows she shouldn’t be here.
“No,” she answers in a clipped tone while she surveys the restaurant.
“She’s Pat’s daughter,” Oliver, sitting beside me, whispers too quietly for her to hear. She looks between us, and I assume she is trying to work out what he said.
“Who is this man I apparently lent money to?” I need to hear her voice again. It is like a sweet melody.
“Who are you? I want to speak with Mr. Manarch. The man who loaned money to a gambler.” Her eyes never leave mine. She has more balls than some of my men.
“I’ll ask again, what man? I can’t answer if I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
A flare of anger flashes across her eyes. She must not know or care who I am.
“Pat O’Brien,” she finally says.
“And you are?”
“His daughter. Now it’s been established who I am, I demand to know who loaned my dad a hundred thousand dollars.” Her hand is on her hip, demanding an answer. She is commanding the room. I see the men staring at her, and it bothers me.
“Everyone out.” My voice isn’t loud, but it’s enough for the room to empty in seconds. “Sit,” I say again.
“I’m perfectly fine standing.”
“I wasn’t asking. Sit!” I growl.
She looks around, apparently confused. Oliver, still sitting beside me, is the only other person left in the room. Her face registers defeat, and she sits in the designated chair. “What’s your name?” I ask as I steeple my hands beneath my chin.
“Ava O’Brien,” she responds.
She reminds me of a cornered animal as her eyes flit between Oliver and me. She holds her purse close to her for protection as if it will help her. A closer look tells me she is even more beautiful than she appeared from afar. Her eyes are the shade of the sky on a summer day, a stunning cerulean blue with the tiniest flecks of gold. Her light brown hair is a perfect contrast to her fair, almost porcelain, smooth skin. If she thinks she’s hiding her beauty by not using makeup and keeping her hair in a ponytail, she has no idea how wrong she is.
“I’m Viktor Manarch. I loaned your father the money.” In reality, this is a lie. I stay away from that part of the family business. It is more trouble than it’s worth. I don’t understand why my father insists on it.
“It’s the guy from earlier. The one you gave a week to pay off his debt,” Oliver whispers.
I didn’t give him a week—my father’s ledger did.
“Why would you loan a gambler that amount of money? You’re taking advantage of him.” Her tone fluctuates between accusatory and pleading.
“Ms. O’Brien, I’m in the business of giving people what they desire. I don’t make it a habit to run a background check.” My sarcasm is lost on her.
“Maybe you should if you’re giving money and expecting payment in one week. You probably don’t even know my dad. If you did, you would have never given him the money. You’re unbelievable. You should be ashamed of yourself,” she replies indignantly.
I choke back a laugh. She’s sassy, and it seems like her belief in right and wrong and her desire to protect her father helped her overcome her fear.
I lean closer and spell it out to her. “Your father knew the terms when he took the money. He didn’t have an issue spending it.”
She looks at me, confusion clear on her face. “Spending?” She closes her eyes and then shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. He has a debt he can’t pay, so I will have to pay it. I demand a payment plan.” The sound of a ringtone interrupts her. She rummages through her purse, takes a cell out and looks at it. “Shit.” Her face becomes flushed, showing anger that wasn’t there before.
“Do you need to get that?”
“No,” she replies, stabbing the decline button with her finger.
“You were saying.” My eyes are focused intently on hers, and I’m impressed that she doesn’t pull away.
“I’m the one—” Her ringtone goes off again, and this time she answers. “We don’t have anything to talk about, Nathan. I am done with your cheating and whores. You’re a waste of a man and my time. Lose my fucking number for good.” She ends the call and puts the cell on silent as she releases an exasperated sigh.
“Would you like some water? A drink, perhaps?” Somehow the call upsets me. Why would any man cheat on the woman sitting in front of me? She is perfect. Any man would give anything to have her.
“I’m fine, but I need to leave. Can we come up with a payment plan? I will pay every penny. I’m good for it. You can ask around.” She rubs her temple. Her hands are shaking slightly.
I stroke my forefinger and thumb across the stubble of my beard. “I need to think about it. After all, I’m a businessman,” I reply smoothly, giving no hint of my thoughts on the matter away.
“I understand.” She lets out a deep breath and goes into her purse again. This time she takes out a pen and grabs a napkin. “Here’s my number, please call me as soon as you’ve decided. Like I said, I’ll repay every penny, but I can’t give you the money in one week. It’s not an achievable timeline for me.” She holds out her hand with the napkin, and the slightest tremble betrays her true feelings.
“I’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you.” Our fingers briefly touch, and a surge of electricity piques my interest and threatens the darkness in me. Before I can say more, she stands and leaves.
“What do you know about her?” I ask Oliver as she leaves.
“You don’t remember her?”
“Should I?” I search my memory but come up with nothing.
“I guess not. By the time she moved into the neighborhood, you were rarely there. Not to mention she’s young. They live in the projects. I believe she works at Eros, but I don’t know much about her. She keeps to herself. But I can ask around.”
“How have I not seen her at Eros? I would have remembered her,” I ask, more to myself.
“She hasn’t been there long. She’s one of Arty’s latest hires, but I can call and find out more.”
“Her father?” I need more information before I decide what I want to do, even though I’m pretty sure I’ve already made up my mind.
“He, on the other hand, we know all too well. She wasn’t exaggerating when she said he’s a gambler. He is the worst kind. He always loses but refuses to stop. I heard somewhere that she’s the one who bails him out all the time. No one loans him money anymore because of this, so I was surprised you did.”
“You know I didn’t,” I snap.
“The Manarch Clan did, which includes you.”
“A technicality. I can’t wait until father no longer has anything to do with the business. We can’t continue to run the business like in the old days. He needs to get with the times, or it will destroy us.”
“What are you thinking? Our father has Pat’s name in the ledger, so he must pay.”
I check the time before asking, “Do you know when her next shift at Eros is?”
“I can find out.”
“Do it. I’m going home. Call me when you find out.”
“What are you planning on doing?”
“Just call me.”
I stand and walk to the door. I have no business intervening in my father’s affairs, especially one I don’t care for, but I can’t help myself. If I want more time with Ava, I need to take matters into my hands. I refuse to let my father get his hooks into her. He will destroy someone like her without any thought.
For the past few months, my life has been clan drama and Manarch Industries. I am the eldest and heir to the clan, and I’ve been groomed for this life since the day I was born. And certain behavior is expected of me. I will take over once my father retires or dies, whichever comes first, but it’s becoming clearer by the day it will be the latter.
While my father prefers the old ways, we won’t survive much longer if we continue on his path. We need to bring the clan into this decade. He runs the clan with fear, but I want to run the clan with respect.
We own strip clubs, nightclubs, restaurants, gyms, and supermarkets. You name it, we own it. When my grandfather started his empire, it was nothing but a strip club and the family restaurant. My father took over, and it grew beyond what anyone could have imagined. Now I want to take us to the next level, which means no more pointless turf wars, but I’m nowhere near making this happen. He reminds me daily he isn’t going anywhere, believing I’m not fit to run the clan.
In my SUV, I think of Ava. Her defiance and feistiness have piqued my attention, and I’m intrigued by her. She is the kind of woman I’d want beside me if I were to settle down. My father says I need a wife before he relinquishes his throne. Of course, he’s lying. It is just an excuse to corner me and get what he wants. But I’m going to marry just so I can take over. It is what the clan needs.
I have been thinking about it a lot lately. Up to now, all the women I’ve been with didn’t have a backbone and were boring. I could marry a trophy wife and make my life easy, but I’ll get bored, and, in our family, divorce isn’t an option. Everything is about tradition. Ava seems the type of woman who will make marriage tolerable. It doesn’t hurt that she’s beautiful and, with the proper wardrobe, she’d be worthy of being my wife.
However, if I ask her to marry me, she’ll refuse. I can tell she’s different from other women, which makes me want her more. She doesn’t look submissive, but I can change that. All I need to do is break her and free the fire inside her. Her body screams it, and I want to be the one who frees her. I will use her father’s debt in my favor. I need to know everything I can to make her mine.