Chapter 2 Jamie
JAMIE
Ishouldn’t be here.
That was the first thought in my head.
I really shouldn’t be here.
I moved away when I felt a body push in close to me, only to bump into another one.
Why was it so goddamn crowded?
What the fuck was I even doing here, and alone?
I could have brought Preston along, but he probably wouldn’t approve of me wanting to come to this bar owned by the Bratva.
Not just anyone in the Bratva.
Kingston Mahankov.
I just…
I just wanted to see him.
I didn’t really think it through. It wasn’t like I had planned this tonight.
I had just gotten off work. I looked down at my outfit and grimaced.
While it wasn’t as revealing as some of the outfits I saw on most of the women here, it wasn’t exactly the same as my everyday clothes.
And people were getting too close to me.
Too close.
I hated being touched.
And there was no one around here who exuded the air of a man set to inherit an entire criminal enterprise.
I hadn’t expected to be able to see Kingston Mahankov so easily. It wasn’t like he was just some random man off the street. Which made it even more surprising that Etta had been able to see him… or even date him in the first place.
I took in a deep breath and rubbed at my chest, trying to will away the crack in my heart that I could feel deepening each and every day. How long would it be until my heart breaks completely?
What would I do then?
What could I do?
What was I even doing here? In this world ruled by strong men with more power in their little pinkies than I would ever have in my entire lifetime, what could I possibly do?
This was stupid.
I should leave.
That would be the smart thing to do.
I turned toward the exit when a large male body moved into my path. I craned my neck back and looked up at him.
He smiled.
It wasn’t a pretty smile. Not at all. Not even a little bit. A slight shiver worked its way up my spine, and without saying a word, I pivoted back around and headed for the bar, ignoring him yelling for me to stop.
I narrowly missed the hand he reached out to me, and I grabbed the only seat available, luckily at the far end of the bar top. I peeked back. The man was already disappearing from my sight as more people crowded in the way.
“What are you having?” the bartender—a man who looked to be about my age, if not a couple of years older—asked.
I froze. “Um… a Long Island iced tea.”
He nodded and walked away from me. I looked around the club. It wasn’t like the kind of clubs that Etta and Preston sometimes managed to drag me out to. It was much quieter, and most of the people here didn’t look or act too wild.
It mostly catered to rich and powerful men and women looking for other rich and powerful people.
And I happened to look like one of those women, here for that very purpose.
A small blush made its way to my cheeks, and I glanced down.
What was Etta doing here in the first place?
I closed my eyes at the pain pressing down on me in remembrance of my childhood friend. It had been three months since she left me.
Three months of feeling this hole in my chest that I didn’t know how to fill. I took in a deep breath. I was not going to break down in public, especially not at this club.
The Caparelli Famiglia and the Bratva were still the same—still wary of one another, but for the most part, they held up their end of this weak truce they had entered.
Mostly because they didn’t know about Etta’s history with Kingston Mahankov.
While the Caparelli Famiglia wasn’t known for looking out for its women, they took offense to other men encroaching on what they believed belonged to them.
And Etta belonged to them, even if we had no skin in the game.
Which was why it was so enraging that Dad wouldn’t do anything about this, or let it be known that Kingston was the reason why Etta—
I cut off that line of thought before it could break me down in public… again.
The Caparelli Famiglia was always looking for an excuse to start a full-blown war with the Bratva.
This could be the reason. And for the first time, I wanted that war. I didn’t fucking care about peace anymore. I wanted blood. I wanted revenge. I wanted Kingston Mahankov’s head.
The only reason there was even peace now was that the last time we went to war with them, both sides lost a lot of men and merchandise, and they weren’t willing to risk it again.
And there were too many smaller, less powerful gangs nearby, just waiting for the two organizations to destroy each other so that they could swoop in.
The Bratva and the famiglia weren’t careless.
I knew they were doing nothing but biding their time.
A part of me wanted to leave New York before it could happen. I should. There was nothing holding me back. Preston could take care of himself. And I knew there was a part of him that wanted to join the famiglia.
We both knew that wouldn’t happen since he was considered an “outsider.”
He should want to leave as well. New York wasn’t safe for people like us. It had never been.
It was only a matter of time before we became collateral damage.
A glass of Long Island iced tea was placed in front of me. I put a twenty-dollar bill down on the bar top without looking at the bartender.
I wasn’t going to stay long.
Just until I finish this drink.
I didn’t even want to come in the first place.
I looked around the club once more.
It was a bad idea to even set foot in here in the first place. I should have headed home and gone straight to bed, like I had really wanted to do. But I caught sight of the sign for this club, and before I knew it, I was already pulling my car into the parking lot.
I was pulled out of my thoughts when a small commotion happened near the door.
“What’s happening?” I muttered to myself, a small part thinking perhaps Kingston had shown up. My heart dropped sharply at the thought before I calmed myself.
“The prince has arrived,” the woman next to me answered. I turned to her.
“The prince?”
She looked at me, her red lips drawing my attention first before I noticed her dark eyes, surrounded by heavy makeup. She seemed like she had been here for a while. “Who else? Reign Mahankov is gracing us with his presence.”
She took a dainty sip of the amber liquid in her glass, leaving a red lip stain behind.
It took me a moment to place the name.
Reign Mahankov was Kingston’s younger brother. While Kingston had just celebrated his thirty-fifth birthday last month, Reign was…
Much younger.
Perhaps eight or nine years.
I couldn’t remember. But I knew he was closer to my age. Maybe a few years younger than my twenty-seven.
And while he was still young, he had already built himself a reputation for becoming just as ruthless as his older brother. And a bit of a player, just like his married father.
I sat up in my chair, trying to catch a glimpse of the man in question, but the crowd made it hard for me to see.
“Don’t bother,” the woman said bitterly. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay far away from him.”
My eyebrow twitched at her words. It sounded like she was speaking from experience.
She looked me up and down. “Although I don’t think you have to worry about that. He usually doesn’t go for women who look so… meek.”
I shot her a humorless smile. “You mean he usually goes for women like you?” I looked her over, unimpressed. “That doesn’t seem to be working out so well for you, now does it?”
She slammed her glass down on the bar top, drawing the attention of the bartender. “What the fuck did you just say to me, bitch?”
Before I could answer her, a laugh rang out on the other side of the woman. A man peeked around her and looked at me.
His blue eyes and blond hair were the first things I noticed about him. That and the fact that even though he was sitting down, it was obvious he was built.
“Don’t listen to her,” the man said to me. “Reign is known to try every flavor known to man.”
I couldn’t help the disgust from showing on my face at his words. “Did you just refer to women as flavors?”
He smiled. “Yes, I did. And I mean every word. And I can see the disgust deepening in your eyes. But before you judge me even further, let me explain.”
“You really think there is a way for you to explain this in a way that would make you sound good?”
The man chuckled. He had a nice laugh—I’d give him that.
“Yes. I meant flavor in a good way. Women are so… unique. Every single one of them. They’re like ice cream flavors. Some are sweet. Some are tart. Some are new. Some have been left out for a while. But all are edible.”
I was sure my face had twisted even more from his words. My hand twitched with the urge to slap him.
I shook my head at him.
The man didn’t seem embarrassed. How fucking shameless. “Are you new here? Can I buy you a drink?”
“No, thank you,” I said, taking a sip of my tea. “I’m leaving soon anyway.”
“Ah, but the night is still young.”
The night was pushing toward midnight.
He shook his head. “Come sit with me, and I’ll tell you all about Reign Mahankov.”
“What makes you think I’m interested?”
“Your eyes have been straying over to where you think he is a few times. And that’s before you’ve even caught a glimpse of his angelic face.”
“Angelic face?” I asked, a small tinge of amusement rushing through me.
He nodded, his face serious. “So angelic, it can make the devil weep.”
I rolled my eyes, my gaze clashing with the woman. She was sending daggers my way. And the thought of sitting here next to her sounded about as appealing as getting my fingernails yanked off. I stood up and grabbed my drink. “Lead the way.”
The man smiled widely, as if he had just won the lottery, standing up as well. “Come now. I know a spot where we can sit and get a full view of Reign.”
I followed him over to a small corner booth that had remained empty since I walked in, even though it looked like there wasn’t enough seating for everyone here.
It was obviously reserved.
For him?
Who was this guy?