Chapter 2 - Dominik
The neon lights of the private room flickered and dimmed as ladies in their lingerie danced around me and my men. Artem, my most trusted man and confidante, didn’t seem to be terribly interested in the ladies; he was staring at his phone, watching the cameras at one of our warehouses.
The room was soundproof, with different music than the rest of the club below. All the various amenities of the club were open to me which, you could say, was owner’s privilege.
Work hours were still on, but a little pleasure never hurt. Besides, even though this was one of my clubs, that didn’t mean I had to monitor what was happening and if everyone was having fun—I had people who took care of that. These were people whom I hired through contracts with their own agency. They were the ones that made sure nothing bad happened in this business. We all knew each other and worked together seamlessly, without any conflicts that would hinder any of the other members or me. We even managed to get along pretty well when necessary—as long as they were paid well for their work.
Artem got to his feet. “They are here.” He clapped, ushering the ladies out the back entrance.
They went willingly, and I turned to catch a glimpse of Natasha’s butt swaying from side to side in a seductive manner as she walked through the door. She turned and blew me a kiss.
I laughed.
The moment the women left, the main door to the private room swung open, letting the pulsing beat of the club steal its way in. The DJ in our room stopped the music, then left.
Like I said, work hours weren’t over, and the men who entered were here on business.
“Artem Morozov.” One of the men moved to shake Artem’s hand.
“Ivan,” Artem said, then moved his gaze to the other. “Welcome.” He shook hands with the other man. “Come. This is Dominik Sharov.”
Ivan and his companion had their gazes fixed on me, and their smiles faded.
I gestured for them to sit.
Artem had told me why they were coming: Partnership. Safe passage. Helping them with their business for a fee. Protection from the police. Dealing with arrogance. These were our specialties—and more.
I hid my disappointment at being interrupted; what I wanted was Natasha back in here, grinding on me, getting me hard, until Artem sent all the men out and left himself, knowing I was about to get down with her.
However, business was more important than some pussy—even Natasha’s. That was the only reason I’d let them cut in.
I spread my hands, looking at both men carefully. Their eyes held a certain anxious look, like I would cancel the plans they’d already discussed at length with Artem—a discussion he’d already briefed me on. Massive profits would come out of this, for sure, so there was no need making these men feel uncomfortable.
They would have been nervous when I agreed to meet them, which was expected; my reputation preceded me. I hadn’t honed my cruelty to a sharp edge for nothing, after all. My father told me long ago that when one wanted to make a very important move, it was best to look in the eyes of the man you were getting in bed with, so to speak, to determine the kind of person he was. The eyes told you everything you needed to know—and the eyes of these men revealed that they desperately wanted our protection.
“My man, Artem, has properly informed me of your venture,” I said, resting my chin on my upturned palm. “I would take it like it were mine. Consider this a partnership.”
The men exhaled, relaxing against the plush sofa, then handed a contract to Artem.
“It’s nothing serious,” the second man said. “We just want the agreement on paper—to show it to anyone who challenges us. That way, they’ll see your signature and back off.”
I gestured to Artem to bring it, and he placed it on the glass table in front of me. I examined the contract; I didn’t need a lawyer for this. Basically, it was for their safety, as I saw nothing that would come to bite me in the ass later. As unconcerned as I was with the government, I did my best not to step on their toes—the law around here, though we did break it every now and then, had the potential to cause headaches.
Of course, I wasn’t going to tell these men about that. I wanted them to think I was the good guy, that I’d sign their deal in a heartbeat. But it would cost me nothing in the end, because I already knew they weren’t greedy bastards; I could see their souls shining from their eyes. They wanted to become part of something bigger than themselves. Not only for the money, of course; it would also help them in their careers.
Besides, I never denied my clients. If a client came to me and said he needed my help, then I helped. I was good at this kind of work. The men would benefit. My employees would benefit. My customers would benefit. I could always give them the option of paying more in exchange for my services. Even though I wasn’t exactly an assassin, I had a certain amount of notoriety, and I could get people to do whatever I asked. My work was dangerous, but it brought the cash.
As soon as the men saw my smile, the tension drained from their bodies.
I reached into my suit jacket for my chrome fountain pen and signed my name on the dotted line of the contract that lay before me. Now it was official.
I leaned back, and Artem reached for the paper, then handed it over to the men.
The anxious looks my new business partners had worn had disappeared. These men knew the terms and conditions of dealing with the Mafia. Not everything had to be on paper. After all, ours was a trade thrice-removed from the eyes of the law.
Ivan extended a hand towards me, with his eyes glinting in triumph. “Thank you, Mr. Sharov. To a prosperous future.” He reached out, and I took his hand in a mild, but firm shake.
“Mr. Novikov, you’re most welcome.” A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. I didn’t usually accept deals like this so easily, but Mr. Novikov was blood—a man with Russian blood running through his veins—and it was always easier and far better to form partnerships with our own ilk. We knew where we all stood, and the terms of our agreements were rarely broken.
I saw Ivan and his man out of the private room with Artem tagging behind us. The persistent beat of club music greeted us, echoing all around. We descended to the main area, where disco lights and swaying bodies merged with the song blaring from the speakers.
As we made our way through the crowd, I glanced towards the bar, intending to assess how the night was going for the bartenders; however, my eye was caught by a vision, right next to the counter—a lady, seated with a drink before her, a look of disinterest on her face as she scrolled through her phone.
She left the bar with her glass, and my eyes followed her as she made her way to a table.
Ivan said something to me, but I missed it; my eyes were still on this woman, who now sat with her elbow propped on the table, resting her chin on her hand while she watched the dancers before her.
I didn’t know what it was, but something about her captivated me. She drew me in like a spell, and I realized not even Natasha had this kind of charm. I was bewitched.
She looked like a dream, the kind that made a man reluctant to wake up. Sexy and stunning, she shamed all the other ladies here tonight with her red dress and cascading hair. She was a diamond in the rough, her beauty cutting right through anything. An enigma she was, and the air around her seemed to intensify, crackling with life.
She may be at a distant table, but she was within reach.
I had no idea how long I had been staring. Maybe a few minutes. Possibly more. When I realized I had stared for far too long—so long it was almost embarrassing—I pulled myself away from my thoughts and turned by focus back to my surroundings. Finally, I found Artem again; he was looking at me curiously.
I looked around, spotting a waitress making her way towards me, and moved to intercept her, forgetting who I was with. She carried a chilled martini glass filled with dark pink liquid seated on a silver tray, reflecting the vibrant disco lights swirling around it. A Cosmo will be just the thing. With a quick word, I sent her off in the direction of the beautiful belle who’d caught my eye, refusing to let go.
I felt like a love-struck teenager with his cock on rev as I waited for the waitress to reach her. When she did, she offered the drink to the rather-confused lady and pointed in my direction. No need to wave. My gaze fixed on her would be enough to let her know the waitress had indicated me.
She looked my way and locked eyes with me for a moment, like she was trying to get a reading off me from where she sat. Her eyes appraised me, then curiosity parted and gave way to a wry smile, one of gratitude, it seemed.
At first, I didn’t realize I was smiling back at her. All I knew was that I was enthralled by every inch of her; the noise faded, and the sea of dancers disappeared, leaving just us, stretched into a world which seemed to thin with every passing second.
A silent, wordless conversation took place between us, and I completely forgot about my new partners.
“Mr. Sharov,” Ivan called, drawing my attention back to him.
All at once, I was back in the club, with dancers swirling all around us.
I looked at Ivan, doing my best to conceal the rage his distraction had ignited within me with a bland expression.
“Yes, Mr. Novikov?” I said.
“We should get—”
No doubt he was about to say ‘going,’ but I interrupted.
“Nonsense.” I cut him short. “Artem will show you to the bar. Have whatever you want—it’s on the house.”
Ivan smiled, and we shook hands again, then Artem showed him and his man to the bar.
Now, there was nothing distracting me. Nothing in my way. Would she still be staring? Would that look of interest and curiosity still be in her eyes?
I returned my gaze to her, and my cock leaped when I found her eyes still trained on me.
Best to end the charade. I started towards her, nudging my way through the crowd. I watched as she looked this way and that, a hopeful look on her face. I thought of the perfect entrance, moving around her to approach her from behind.
She returned to her Cosmo, rubbing the martini glass in a manner that made me wish she was touching me that way. Her eyes darted around as if she was searching for something… someone. As if she was searching for me.
She got up, craning her neck slightly as her eyes continued to skim through the crowd, until, in disappointment upon not finding who she wanted, she sat back down.
My mouth curved into a smug smirk. Was the little mouse trying to provoke me? Even more than I already was? I stalked her from behind, feeling very much like a predator tracking its prey; I’d never felt more intrigued in a woman than at that moment. The thrill of the hunt spiked my blood, and I was determined to catch her for myself.
On reaching her, I leaned forward so she could hear me, then asked, “Looking for someone?”
She jumped a little and held her shoulders up for a few seconds.
“Apologies,” I said. “Did I frighten you?” Hm, little mouse?
Her cheeks colored, and she smiled, her eyes closing. The smile gave her away. She looked around hastily, then turned back to me.
I extended my hand. “Dominik,” I said. “Dominik Sharov.”
She took my hand in a dainty grip. “Maya Stone.”
“Maya Stone…” I said her name slowly, like a forgotten wish, slowly rubbing circles on the back of her hand with my thumb.
Hesitation and caution danced over her features as I held her hand, looking into her eyes, as if she was trying to figure me out. I wondered what it was about her that had me so enraptured. I chuckled softly. Looks like we both have questions. However, the attraction between us was visceral, something neither of us could shake.
Truthfully, Ihad no intention of shaking it off—not tonight, anyway; no, I had every intention of feasting on this little mouse until I was completely sated.
“Are you having fun?” I asked her.
“I’m trying to,” Maya murmured.
I quietly exhaled, aware that I not only watched her; I wanted her—and she wasn’t a snub. That, in itself, was perfect.