Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Viktor
“ W hoa,” Ava says, placing her hand on my shoulder to steady herself. I look at her in surprise.
“Sorry,” she mumbles, lifting her hand.
“Sit,” I order as I stand and point at my seat.
“No thanks. I’m fine,” she replies, but the dazed look in her eyes tells me she’s far from fine.
“I’ll determine that,” I say with a growl as I place my hands on her shoulders and slowly push her onto my seat. “Oliver, water.” Ten seconds later, Oliver passes me a bottle, and I hold it out to Ava. “Drink.” She looks at me hesitantly. “Drink,” I repeat, striving to keep my voice gentle. She takes a sip. “More,” I command with exasperation. She does, but not before rolling her eyes. When she closes her eyes and takes slow, even breaths, I ask, “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” She stands, but I push her back down. “What?” she asks with more attitude than any woman should show around me.
“You look pale. Did you eat?” I find myself worried for her. It is an emotion I don’t often feel.
“That doesn’t concern you. I need to get back to work.” She stands again, and this time, I let her. She takes two steps toward me then faints. Luckily, I catch her before she falls.
“I’m leaving,” I say to Oliver, picking Ava up as if she weighs nothing. As I walk, carrying her, Ava’s scent spills over me. It is intoxicating. A soft, sweet, lavender smell.
After I’ve taken a few steps, she tries to wiggle out of my arms.
“Put me down.” Her embarrassment at being carried like a child is evident in her voice.
“Relax,” I say soothingly. She fights to be let down but it only makes me hold her tighter. “Stop fighting.” I want to yell at her, but I don’t think it will help. She can try all she wants, but she isn’t going anywhere. I won’t allow it.
“Put me down, or I’ll scream.”
“Good luck getting someone to hear you,” I mock.
“Please.” Her plea stops me in my tracks. I don’t understand why. But I set her down, just the same. “Thanks,” she mutters as a red flush covers her neck and cheeks.
“We’re leaving,” I tell her.
“I don’t know you or what you’re capable of. I’m not going anywhere with you, and for your information, I’m working, so I can’t exactly up and leave.” She might be struggling to stay upright, but that feisty girl is still fully present.
“You aren’t in any condition to work at the moment,” I cajole, attempting to convince her.
“It’s not your call to make. I’m fine. I just need a few minutes.” She stares at me as she speaks. Her eyes are defiant, and she shows no fear toward me.
“You need to eat. You’re leaving with me. I’m getting you food.” Who knows when she last ate?
“I’m not going anywhere, especially with you. Besides, I can’t just leave, it’s busy, and we both know I need the money. So let me through.”
Headstrong. If she thinks she’s discouraging me, it’s only making me want her more. It is going to be fun breaking her.
“I know the owner. Your job is safe.”
“Mr. Manarch, I appreciate your concern, but I can’t leave. You know I need the money now. I have to get back to work.” She moves toward the stairs, but I block her.
“Ms. O’Brien, you have two choices. You can leave with me of your own accord, or I’ll carry you to my car. You’re done working for the night.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Her eyes are wild. I am not sure whether it’s with shock or fear.
“Baby girl, you have no idea what I’d dare. As you so eloquently said, you don’t know me or what I’m capable of.” I take a few steps toward her, and she moves back. To her disadvantage because there is a wall behind her. Nowhere to run. “What’s it going to be?” I challenge.
“I need to get my things,” she finally says, resigned to the reality in front of her.
“Good choice…” I turn to Oliver, who followed us out of the club. “Oliver?—”
“I’ll meet you at the SUV,” he says, attempting, and failing, to cover his smile with his hand.
“After you.” I point toward the stairs.
She rolls her eyes but does as I say. I can’t help but notice her curves. She looks different from earlier, like a completely different woman. Her red corset pushes her plump breasts out, and her pants showcase her small waist and perfect ass. She is the definition of perfection and radiates seduction. A woman who could drive any sane man crazy. I haven’t felt this attracted to a woman since—well, in a long time. She is a mixture of innocence and sass. But despite how she’s dressed now, I’m more attracted to how she looked earlier.
Oliver is waiting outside when we return with her purse. It’s worn down like the clothes she wore earlier. A woman like Ava should be taken care of, treated like royalty, and never need to work a day in her life. In a way, she reminds me of my mother—beautiful and headstrong. The kind of woman worthy of the Manarch name.
“Where to?” Oliver asks as we approach.
“The restaurant,” I say without hesitation.
He looks at me questioningly.
“Now.” My tone brooks no argument.
“Okay.”
Oliver is my right hand. I trust him with my life. He is also my father’s illegitimate son. My mother brought him home when he was in diapers. According to her, his mother was not suited to raise him. My mother forgave my father’s indiscretion and raised Oliver as her own. It makes no difference to me. I might not say it aloud, but he is my brother. He can’t ever be the boss, that title is rightfully mine as the firstborn, but it doesn’t make him any less of a Manarch. Oliver serves as my advisor and, when necessary, my conscience.
I open the SUV’s door for Ava, and she looks surprised. I wonder what type of men she usually deals with that she’d find such a small courtesy surprising. Then again, the last man apparently cheated on her. But a woman like her should be treated with respect. Even I know that, and I’m an asshole.
She slides into the car, and I follow. Normally I don’t like to be driven, but I want to be near her. She is quiet, looking out the window. I want to know what she’s thinking. What troubles her? When was the last time she had a proper meal? She looks exhausted, and her eyes tell me she’s had a hard life thus far. This makes me angry, but I don’t know why.
“Oliver, you can go home,” I say as we approach the restaurant.
“I’ll have a drink.” This is his way of telling me he won’t leave my side. I don’t care for it, but I understand. We left our men at the club.
“There should be a bottle of Glenmorangie eighteen-year-old and a bottle of 2010 Chateau Turcaud Bordeaux. Pick your poison.” He nods. I open the door and exit the SUV, holding my hand out to Ava. She looks at me like I’ve offended her.
“I don’t need your help.” Her brow knits in a frown, and I chuckle.
I open the door to the restaurant, which is filled with some of our lower soldiers. The volume in the restaurant drops instantly when they see me.
“As you were.” The noise returns to normal. “We’re going to the kitchen,” I tell Ava as she looks around nervously.
I see that the crowd makes her uncomfortable, but my men won’t dare talk to her. She is safe here, despite what people say, but it doesn’t mean they aren’t looking. It is hard not to, and I can’t blame them. It is hard to take your eyes off her. As we pass them, they look away. It bothers me that they’re looking in the first place, but I have the same difficulty.
“Sweetheart, what are you doing here?” My mother greets me as we enter the kitchen.
“Hi, Mom. I could ask the same.” I hug her. “This is my friend Ava. We came for a late dinner.”
“Hello, Ava.”
“Hello, Mrs. Manarch. Nice to meet you.” Ava holds out her hand, which my mother doesn’t take, making her even more uncomfortable. That’s how my mother is. Protective of her children and always on high alert. She doesn’t trust easily, perhaps because of who we are and the lives we lead. She gives Ava a look over, and I have to hide the smirk when she arches a brow at me.
“I’ll heat you both a plate. I made beef pie.”
“Thanks, Mom. We’ll be at the back table.”
I hold my hand out to Ava, but she refuses to take it.
“Where’s the bathroom?” she asks as we exit the kitchen.
“Third door on the right.”
She leaves, and I can’t help but watch her walk away. She is stunning, but more than that, there’s something alluring about her. She isn’t like any other woman I’ve encountered. She is confident but not arrogant. She knows who she is, and that turns me on.