6. Tabitha
6
TABITHA
I ’ve never been much of a decorator. I never really had the chance. My parents didn’t have the money for the basics, much less unnecessary décor. And even when I was older and on my own, I didn’t have the means. Dimitri made sure of that. He had his people design every corner of our home, down to the family photos arranged on the mantle.
Back then, my opinions had never mattered.
But the boys didn’t inherit that way of thinking from their father.
Instead, they valued my opinion. There were times when they actually sought it, like when they asked me to help design the interior of the casino. Most of it was cut and dry. Dark colors and low lighting were common themes throughout, but the entertainment areas and the bars were a different matter, especially the main bar.
It was at the center of the casino and would be an essential component of the building. As I stood there, staring at the blank canvas, I felt something stir inside of me. I was excited about getting the opportunity to help design one of the many bars in the casino. It was my chance to create something from the ground up, and I wanted to make the space feel warm and inviting. I wanted to make it special.
It wasn’t exactly easy—it was in a casino, after all.
But I wasn’t just excited. I was determined.
It was late, well past normal working hours, and the construction workers had gone home for the day. The walls were finally up, so the bones of the place were finally coming together. Now was the perfect time for Marissa, our interior designer, and I to take a good look at the place.
I glanced around the room that would soon become the heart of the casino, and my imagination started running wild. I had such grand plans for the place. It was one of several bars we’d planned, but this one was going to be the main draw. I wanted it to feel elegant and sophisticated but not so cold that people felt out of place.
It needed charm.
Southern charm.
"After we talked last week, I put together a few concepts I think you will love." Marissa was holding an iPad in her manicured hands. "They are just what this place needs.”
She turned the screen toward me and started flipping through the different images. They were all sleek, modern designs with glass shelving, stark white marble countertops, and chrome accents. They were all beautiful, but they were also cold and lacked any real soul.
I immediately shook my head and said, "No."
"No?" Caught off guard, Marissa stammered, “B-But you said…”
"This isn’t what I want. These feel too detached. Like something you’d find in a high-end hotel bar in New York. That’s not what we’re doing here."
"I thought we agreed on a refined aesthetic?"
“Refined doesn’t mean lifeless.” I turned and gestured to the open space around us. "We’re in the south. We need warm tones, rich wood, and brass fixtures instead of chrome. I’m thinking of deep leather booths and soft loungers that invite people to sit down and stay awhile. I want it to be the kind of place where not only deals are made, but old friends hang out and talk.”
“I see.” Marissa hesitated, and it was clear she was struggling with my vision when she said, "But if we go too rustic, it could…"
I held up a hand. "Not rustic. Classic. Southern charm isn’t about mason jars and farmhouse sinks. It’s about warmth. A place that feels clean and well thought out but lived in. Like the bars you find in Savannah or New Orleans. A sense of history and elegance, but with a heartbeat."
“Okay.” She smiled. “I can work with that.”
“I knew you could.”
“Let’s look through a few options and see what speaks to you.”
“Sounds great.”
Marissa flipped through a few images on her iPad, and together, we picked out a few that seemed to go with the aesthetic I had in mind. My vision for the bar was finally starting to take shape, and I was starting to get excited when my focus was drawn to heavy footsteps coming up behind me. Before I could turn, a sharp, furious voice cut through the air, "So this is what those Volkov assholes stole my house for?"
I turned and found three men rushing into the room. They were covered in dust and sweat like they’d just come from a work site. The taller of the three seemed to be the one leading the group. He had broad shoulders and scraggly hair. His eyes were wild and full of rage as they scanned the room.
His lips curled with disgust as he growled, "A damn casino ? Are you kidding me? "
Marissa stepped back, and I could see from her pale face that she was terrified. I, on the other hand, was angry. This was my sons’ place, and they had no business coming in here bad-mouthing them. “You’re trespassing.”
"Oh, I’m trespassing?" He let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. His voice dripped with venom. "On what used to be my land? Where my business used to be? Where my home used to be? Before those lowlife assholes stole it from me and bulldozed it to the fucking ground?"
His words settled like stones in my chest.
I knew what Sergei and his brothers had done to get this property. I hadn’t been part of it, but I wasn’t na?ve to the weight of it either. They’d hurt a lot of people, and they all held grudges. Some more than others. Some felt the betrayal deep in their bones, and they wanted vengeance—just like the man standing in front of me.
I tried to keep my tone soft and nonthreatening as I told him, "I understand that you’re upset, but this isn’t the time or the place for this.”
" Don’t talk down to me," he hissed. “I go where I wanna go when I wanna go, and you aren’t gonna do a fucking thing about it!”
His friend, a wiry man with nervous eyes, hovered just behind him, and I could tell by his expression that he didn’t like how things were going. The other guy had already stepped back, and I could barely see his face. I knew I was on shaky ground when I told him, “This is private property. You need to leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere!”
The slight shift of his jacket revealed a flash of metal at his hip.
He had a gun.
Damn.
His whole body tensed, and rage poured off him as he shouted, “I’m done having people run over me!”
“I don’t know what you plan to accomplish here.”
“I plan to make those assholes pay for what they did!”
Clearly nervous and wanting to leave, his friend shifted behind him. "Come on, man. Let’s just get out of here.”
"I’m not leaving!” the man snapped, his hand hovering near his waist. "These people didn’t give a fuck when they stole my land. Maybe I should take something from you and see how you like it."
Panic set in.
I wasn’t stupid.
He was angry and desperate, and that was a dangerous combination.
I had no idea what I was going to do when the doors behind me burst open. Sergei stormed into the room with Viktor and Nikolai.
Behind them were three men in leather vests, and each one looked more menacing than the next. I knew right away who they were. They were the men Sergei and Nikolai were fighting over the night before. I had no idea why they had come here tonight, but it was clear they were a force to be reckoned with.
The older man with silver hair and beautiful dark eyes took in the scene with a scowl. The other two stood protectively at his side, watching and assessing every move that was made.
Sergei charged toward us as he roared, “Get the fuck away from her! Right fucking now!”
“It’s you!” the man shouted. “You’re the lowlife fucker who stole my land!”
“That’s right.” Sergei took a step towards him. “I’m the one you want. Now, get the fuck away from her.”
The man didn’t budge.
Instead, his anger flared hotter, and before anyone could react, he drew his weapon . My gasp echoed through the room as he aimed it at my oldest son and snarled, "Youand that piece of shit lawyer of yours stole everything from me! You left me with nothing!”
“We didn’t steal anything,” Sergei scoffed. "We bought this land and the properties around it fair and square."
"This land has been in my family for years, and you think you can just take it, and we’re just gonna let you get away with it!"
"You can blame me all you want, but we both know who’s to blame.” Sergei shook his head with condemnation. “You should’ve paid your damn taxes.”
This wasn’t good.
Instead of trying to defuse the situation, my son was antagonizing him.
I don’t know what he was thinking. This guy was already on edge and had a gun pointed at him. The man’s entire body was trembling with fury, and his finger started to squeeze the trigger.
Dear Lord. He was going to do it.
He was going to shoot Sergei.
Sergei reached behind him and drew his weapon. He started charging towards the man but stopped when the older biker lifted his hand and shook his head. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Sergei didn’t take orders from anyone, not even his father, but with a simple hand gesture, this guy had my son lowering his weapon and stepping back.
Confused by Sergei’s sudden change in demeanor, the man glanced around, and the blood drained from his face when he saw the biker walking towards him. Uncertainty flickered across his face. “You who I think you are?”
“I am.” The biker kept his face free of emotion. “Folks call me Preacher.”
“You’re with Fury.”
“I am.”
“But what are you doing here… with them ?”
“That’s not any concern of yours.” The biker took a step forward. “You Larry Branson’s boy?”
“Yeah.” The man lowered his head. “Bet he’s rolling over in his grave right about now.”
“He was a good man. I doubt he’d want his one and only son to be in a spot like this.” The biker glanced down at the gun in the man’s hand. “Why don’t you put that away before you lose more than just your land?”
“This guy’s got it coming.”
"Maybe so, but you’re about to make a choice you can’t take back."
Preacher was calm, confident, and with ease, he had full control of the situation. And I was spellbound. I’d never seen a man handle himself in such a determined manner. Dimitri was just the opposite. He wouldn’t have wasted time with words. He would’ve just had one of his men kill him right then and there, and the whole thing would be over.
But Preacher wasn’t so quick to take a stranger’s life.
Instead, he was diffusing the situation with reason and presence, and it was effective . More than that—it was impressive.
And to my unfathomable surprise, I found myself drawn to that quiet authority. I found myself drawn to him , which made no sense whatsoever. This man was in a biker club, and they called him Preacher. And not only that, he was tattooed and dangerous and unbelievably sexy.
Clearly, I needed therapy, and lots of it.
Preacher walked slowly toward the man, and he spoke low and calm as he said, “I get that you’re pissed. Sounds like you have every right to be, but there’s got to be a better way to handle this.”
The man didn’t respond.
He just stood there staring at the biker, and the silence was suffocating.
And then, the man’s grip loosened. His arm dropped, and he let out a ragged breath. Sergei turned to his brothers and demanded, "Get him the fuck out of here. And his buddies, too.”
Nikolai and Viktor moved in, pulling the man and his friends toward the exit. He didn’t resist. His fight was gone.
As they dragged him away, Preacher turned his focus to me, and I was dazed by the intensity of dark eyes as they slowly skirted over me. “You alright?”
“I am. Thanks to you.” I exhaled shakily and tried to force a smile. “I really appreciate your help.”
“Don’t mention it.”
With that, he and his buddies turned and started out of the room. They hadn’t gotten far when Sergei realized they were leaving. He rushed after them, and after speaking to them for only a moment, he made his way back over to me. “What are you doing here so late?”
“It’s not even eight o’clock, Sergei.”
“You have no business being here at this hour!” He threw his hands in the air with frustration. “That guy could’ve killed you.”
“He could’ve killed you, too,” I scoffed. “And he would have if your friend hadn’t stopped him.”
“I would’ve handled it.”
“You sound like your father.” Before he could snap back, I raised my hand, stopping him. “We were both lucky. Now, you and your brothers need to do something about the security around here. These men should’ve never been able to get in here.”
“We’ll take care of it.”
“I’m sure you will.” I reached over and gave him a quick hug. “I’m going home.”
“I’ll take you.”
“No, I can take myself.” I motioned my head over to Marissa. “Besides, I need to make sure we still have a decorator.”
“I’m sorry about all this, Mother.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just fix it, Sergei. Fix all of it, or this whole thing could come crashing down on all of us.”
Without saying anything more, I went over and smoothed things over with Marissa. As we talked, I glanced over at Sergei and his brothers. I had no doubt that they were forging some grand plan to make sure this kind of thing never happened again.
I loved my boys more than anything. I knew how much this casino meant to them. Sergei wanted it to be their mark on this world, and I wanted them to have it.
But dreams like theirs came at a cost.
They were going to face some hard days. I just hoped they had the mindset to face those days the right way.
Not with arrogance.
Not with their father’s brutality.
Because they were in a situation where they could either build an empire or destroy one. Only time would tell.