Stepan
The crowd is thick tonight, and the betting is moving fast. I stand along the back wall with Roman to my left and Kazimir to my right and a clear line of sight to the pit from here without being in the middle of the noise.
Kaz has spent the better part of the past nine months working hard on rebuilding, and after last week's grand reopening, I'd say we're on the right track.
Roman leans against the wall and watches the fight without much interest. He's seen a thousand of these, enough to know how things go, but he's in a good mood tonight. I think we all are now that things are starting to feel normal again.
"Kaz," he says, not looking away from the pit. "You set up this new security rotation?" My eyes track the guys who walk the floor watching our guests and our fighters. Using fighters these men have seen in the ring trading blows to keep them in line was genius.
Kazimir nods and grins like a fool. "Yeah... Probably should've been doing that all along."
"It's working," Roman grunts. "Not a single incident so far.”
Kazimir tips his head but stays quiet and focuses on his fights. I was jealous when he got put in charge of all of this, but he's doing a great job. Roman knew he was the right choice, and besides, I have my hands full with recruitment, anyway.
When Roman turns to me, the good mood's still there but his focus has shifted, and I know what's coming before he opens his mouth.
"So. The Belova girl..." His eyebrows lift in a familiar expression.
This is a problem I've been working on for a few months now, how to stop an alliance from forming against us.
The trouble is, when two men sit across a table from one another and shake hands, it's not easy to separate that.
I've had a hard time discerning how to stop Maksim Orlov and Sergei Belova from growing closer.
"She's here," I say. "Across the room. Her uncle brought her tonight."
He keeps his eyes on the pit where the ring crew is resetting for the next fight. "And you're sure about the marriage?"
"Sergei's been in Orlov's ear for years, Ro.
When his daughter marries the man, they pool their resources...
" I don’t have to say aloud what that spells for us.
Once Roman took the alliance with the Radin smuggling operation, all bets were off.
New allies mean new enemies too, and we've found a few fresh faces who want to shut us down.
"The Belovas could never hurt us on their own."
"No. But the Orlovs can help, and once that wedding locks them together, Sergei doesn't need his own muscle anymore. He's borrowing Maksim's."
Roman sighs through his nose and watches the new fighters take the ring.
His eyes dance around the mat, probably as he's thinking about the stress bringing on a new enterprise has been for us.
We stick to fighting. It's what we're good at.
But the gun smuggling promises new wealth we all want to dip our fingers into. We just have to defend it.
"Mila's been hearing things too," he says. "Her people still talk to the old Radin networks. Word is the Orlovs have been moving product through Yekaterinburg faster than usual. Stockpiling."
"They're getting ready for something," I agree.
And I know the wedding is what pulls the trigger, but short of murdering one or both of them, I can't see how we stop a wedding in its tracks.
And Roman definitely won't let me go kill them all in cold blood...
Though my fingers are itching to get dirty.
Kazimir glances between us. "So, what are we talking about? We hit the Orlovs before the deal is done?"
"We don't hit anyone," Roman says. "If we go to war with the Orlovs and the Belovas, it costs us six months, a hundred men, and half the territory we picked up from the Radins. I didn't marry Mila and expand so we'd all burn."
"We just rebuilt this place too," I point out. "You want investigators up our asses again?"
Roman's mouth twitches as he chuckles. He's showing his pride in training me so well.
Kazimir is still too green, too ready to go out and blow everyone up.
We have to hold him back at every turn, just like Roman and Timur used to do for me.
They've knocked some sense into me now, but I still have a temper.
At least I know enough to know not to run out there half-cocked.
"Then what?" Kazimir asks.
"I want to ruin her for Orlov..." I say, now focusing on the girl.
She's watching me too, seeming flustered.
I talk out the side of my mouth just so I can try to get in her head and know what she's thinking.
"Get close to her, compromise her, make it public enough that Maksim can't pretend it didn't happen.
He's old-school—very proud. If he finds out his bride's been with another man, he'll probably walk and not a single bullet will be spent. "
Roman turns his head and looks at me fully as he says, "You're going to seduce Sergei Belova's daughter." Then he starts to chuckle, a deep rumble that makes me almost smile, though my eyes are still locked on Marina. She really is beautiful, but her beauty isn't why I stare.
"I'm going to make sure that wedding doesn't happen. Seduction may be the cleanest option we have."
She holds my gaze for a second, maybe two. Then she drops her eyes back to the pit and I see the color rise in her neck even from this distance. I'm not sure what sort of game I'll have to play to make this happen, but I have to make it happen.
"Is she the one?" Kaz asks me, nudging my rib with his elbow, and I nod.
"Tempting, huh?" I ask him, but I already know his answer. That man is too far up Zora Volyn's ass to see anything but her. He doesn't even dignify it with a response.
"Whatever you do, make it fast and keep it clean." Roman slaps my shoulder as he pulls away, turning toward the betting office, and I notice Filipp pull away from his niece. He stalks across the floor and I see my opening, which I fully intend to take.
"That's my window," I tell Kazimir as I push off the wall and straighten my jacket. He says nothing as I walk away, cutting through the crowd.
The crowd parts for me as I move through, and though Ms. Belova isn't watching me, I still feel the swirl of anticipation.
This isn't a normal mark. Usually, I'm hunting someone who owes us money or needs to be taught a lesson.
Today I'm stalking much more delicious prey I may very well enjoy serving up on a platter.
And when I'm in her radius and I smell the hints of her floral perfume, I feel my body start to respond, being sucked into her gravity.
"You look like you're having the worst night of your life," I say.
She turns her head, and I get the full impact of those blue eyes up close. They're startling, almost too blue, and her green top makes them pop.
"Top five, maybe," she says with a smile. "Not the worst."
"You don’t seem to fit in here..."
Something happens in the ring behind me, but my focus is entirely on her. She's even prettier up close, perfect complexion, subtle auburn hints in her dark hair. And those lips look delectable, probably feel perfect wrapped around my dick leaving red lipstick smears on my length.
"First time here?" I ask her, trying to seem relaxed but not overly casual. I realize I'm a bit older than her, at least a decade, but not so old that it would make either of us a pariah.
"That obvious?" She bites her lip and smiles through her lashes, and I realize she’s flirting. This woman thinks I'm attractive too. It bumps my ego a little, maybe too much, honestly.
"Little bit," I say, winking at her. So far, so good. She's reacting to me, so that's a good thing, but it doesn’t mean she's going to ditch her family alliance to be whisked off her feet. I have to play every single card correctly.
She almost smiles. "My uncle dragged me. He has a flair for dramatic educational experiences."
"What's the lesson?"
"That the world is bigger and scarier than I think it is.
" My God, when she smiles, it's breathtaking.
Something drills into my chest and I have to look away for a second, almost like she's casting a spell over me.
I'm not the type of man to let a woman get to me, but I have a feeling if I let my guard down, she might just do that.
"Is it working?"
"Not sure what I’m learning other than sweaty men smell like hogs, and drunk men seem to shout louder than the sober ones." Her laughter is sweet too, the way she tosses her head back and touches my arm briefly. I let myself admire that for a moment.
The fight continues to roar behind me, but I'm not paying much attention now. Marina has me transfixed, so enamored I could really listen to her talk for hours.
"I'm Stepan," I say, extending my hand, which she takes gently.
"Marina," she says, finally. When she pulls her hand away, I find I want it back. If for no other reason than to remember what the touch of a woman feels like. It's been months for me because rebuilding this damn fight club has taken longer than we hoped and all of my energy.
"Marina..." I say it back slowly, and I watch the way it lands on her. The color creeps up her neck again. She looks away, toward the pit, and I give her the space to do that because pushing now would be a mistake.
"So, Marina. Is your uncle coming back for you or are you on your own for the rest of the night?"
"He's coming back." She nods toward the concessions. "He went to get drinks."
"He's a drinker?" I lift an eyebrow and watch her response.
"Always... But I think he's placing bets." She mumbles something under her breath and I see the dissatisfaction on her face. She's not happy about something, which I easily perceive is probably the fact that he's left her here alone or that he's brought her here at all.
There's an edge to her tone that leaves a door cracked open. I don't push through it but I note where the hinges are.
"You don't like watching fights?" I ask, glancing over my shoulder where the fights are resetting again. I didn't even hear the knockout bell, which should tell me something about this woman's magnetism.
"I don't. This is a special occasion."
"Lucky for me," I tell her, already trying to plan my next move. I have to flirt with her, get her interested. I'm just not sure how to do that when I already know she's got plans to be married.
"Sure of yourself, aren't you?" she asks, snickering, and I see an intelligence in her eyes that's almost threatening. She's reading me the way I read fighters to test them and see which ones will work out well for us.
"Sure enough to ask you for your number...
" I slide my hand into my pocket and pull out a pen, clicking the tip out.
She smirks and glances at her uncle, who is now making his way back toward us watching the beer in his hand like he's afraid to spill it.
I have only seconds to get out of here because there's no way a man that well-known in the gun world shows up at our fight club and doesn't know my face.
"Alright," she says quietly, then recites her number to me even more quietly. When it's scrawled on my hand, I start walking backward, grinning at her.
I've successfully set a hook and now I just have to reel her in. "I'll talk to you soon, Marina." I purposefully draw out her name, accentuating every syllable, and it turns her cheeks a bright shade of pink.
But before she can respond, I turn and walk away, not wanting Filipp to see or recognize me at all.
I have her number, and I fully intend to use it.
Now I just have to decide the best way to get her away from her family and into my bed, and how I'm going to prove to Orlov that I've soiled his bride to be, all without breaking any laws that might land me in jail.
Shouldn't be that hard.
Unlike my dick right now.