Chapter 1
Chapter One
CASSIO/COHEN
“ D amn, she sure is going for it tonight.” Jesse’s gaze tracks Irina across the crowded club.
“Heartbreak has a way of bringing out that reckless, destructive inner beast in all of us,” I deadpan, sipping my water as I watch my prey throw herself into the middle of the dance floor with gleeful abandon. I know from personal experience how easy it is to lose yourself when your heart has been violently ripped from your chest and all you’re left with is an angry, hollow shell.
Though I wonder if Irina Mikhailov is actually heartbroken. Maybe she’s celebrating being free of her cheating ex. I thought it’d be harder to set up, but Adrian took the bait with zero hesitation. My free hand balls into a fist at my side as I contemplate paying her pathetic ex a visit purely to use his face as a punching bag. Although I’m grateful he’s a weak piece of shit, I still don’t understand how he could cheat on someone like her.
My gaze rakes over every inch of Irina as she dances with Cecilia, her college bestie from Stanford. Soft honey-blonde waves cascade around Irina’s slim shoulders as she moves her body in perfect time to the music. Her eyes are closed as she dances provocatively, roaming her hands over her stunning curves, but I see them in my mind’s eye—seductive whiskey-colored wide eyes bordered by long thick black lashes that are the real deal. Any time she fixes them on me, it’s like she sucks all the oxygen from my lungs and I’m instantly under her spell.
Until she opens her mouth and ruins it.
Irina Mikhailov, youngest daughter of Pakhan Vladimir Mikhailov, the leader of the Bratva in San Francisco, is equal parts ice queen and fire goddess, and I can’t wait to get her under me. Especially because she hates my guts and it’ll be the sweetest reward when I make her bow before me.
Vengeance has never looked more delectable.
Irina’s formfitting black dress leaves little to the imagination, and as my gaze drags over her chest, tiny waist, and slender hips to those tempting satiny-smooth long legs, I can’t help visualizing them thrown over my shoulders as I pound into her tight, pretty pussy. My dick hardens instantly, pressing painfully against the zipper of my black pants. It’s Irina’s superpower. From the instant I met her last year, one look is all it takes to make me hard as steel.
“You should make your move before she’s completely trashed.” Jesse licks his lips as his gaze thankfully wanders to Irina’s best friend.
“This should be fun.” I’m smirking as I set my glass down on the counter and crick my neck from side to side.
“Wouldn’t miss this for the world.” My buddy-slash-business-partner chuckles, joining me as I make a beeline for the dance floor.
Sneaking up behind Irina, I press my body flush against hers as my hands snake around her hips, gripping her from behind. My little Bratva princess keeps her eyes closed as she sways her hips, rotating her body back against me, uncaring who I might be.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Even more so because she ditched her protective detail to sneak out again tonight, and she has no backup if anything heads south. Her father has plenty of enemies—yours truly being top of that list—and she is a target. Irina is smart. She knows this, which makes her recklessness all the more aggravating. I want to take her naughty ass over my knee and spank the shit out of her for being so irresponsible, but I won’t because this plays into my agenda.
Cecilia’s eyes pop wide as she stares at me. Her mouth opens, and she takes a step toward her best friend before I shake my head in warning, drilling her with a look that tells her to butt out. I’m grateful when Jesse grabs Cecilia’s hand and tugs her away from us, flashing me a devilish smirk before he disappears out of view.
My breath is warm against Irina’s neck as I dig my fingers into her hips and gyrate my pelvis, ensuring she feels everything she’s doing to me. A raspy moan escapes her lips as she throws her head back, resting it on my shoulder. Our bodies sway to the pumping beats as we grind against one another. She doesn’t even open her eyes when I sweep all that glorious hair to one side and pepper the elegant column of her neck with feather-soft kisses.
Her hands cover mine on her hips, our fingers interlocking as we continue dancing and dry humping. My cock is leaking precum behind my boxers, and I’m craving to bury myself between her soft thighs. I need to fuck her real bad, and a guy only has so much restraint.
Her eyes finally pop open when I grasp her chin and angle her face around to look at me. She barely has time to register it’s me before my lips descend on hers in a brutal claiming kiss. Caught off guard, she opens her mouth, and I take full advantage, slipping my tongue between her plump lips. Our tongues tangle, and our lips move insistently in a slew of heated kisses before her head overpowers her libido.
“Fuck,” I hiss when she bites down hard on my lower lip, drawing blood. Tiny hands shove at my muscular chest as she lets loose a string of expletives in her native tongue. It’s always funny to hear her cuss me out in Russian with her posh American accent. Although Irina is akin to Russian royalty in the circles she mixes in, she has never lived anywhere but the US.
“Get off me or I’ll scream.” Her eyes spit fire, and it’s my catnip. I could do this day and night with her.
“Have at it, princess. Don’t think it’ll do you any good but go for it.” She doesn’t realize Jesse and I are part owners in this upmarket club because I keep my business dealings on the down-low for a bunch of reasons.
She levels me with an icy glare. “Take your hands off me now, or I swear I’ll hurt you.”
My grin expands. “You say that like it’s a deterrent.” I spin her around so our chests are facing. My arms band around her like chains, and I chuckle as she pins murderous eyes on me. I lean down until there is only a tiny gap between our faces. My warm breath fans across her lips when I speak. “All it does is turn me on.”
“You’re a twisted individual, Cohen Reynolds, and I don’t know how to make myself any clearer. I’ve told you I don’t take my sister’s sloppy seconds, and that includes you.”
“The brief relationship I had with Anya meant nothing.”
Her eyes blaze with righteous indignation. “Not to her! You broke her heart!”
“Get real, Irina. It took her exactly five seconds to move on to the next guy. I read the happy news online last week. Anya couldn’t give two shits about me now, and it’s no longer an acceptable excuse.”
I wondered how long it would take Pakhan Mikhailov to marry off his eldest daughter. His only son was slaughtered in cold blood a few months ago, leaving him without an heir. The Bratva is similar to La Cosa Nostra in terms of heirs and hierarchy, and I knew it wouldn’t be too long before he married his daughters off. I’m sure Irina has a current reprieve only because she’s still got one year of her translation studies degree to complete. I’m betting as soon as she graduates Stanford he’ll be lining up suitors. He needs sons-in-law to run his businesses and rule the criminal organization when he gets too old to do it.
Which is why time is of the essence, and I need to convince Irina to date me ASAP. I have a limited window to make her fall in love with me before her father foists her onto some Russian prick.
No one gets near Vladimir Mikhailov because he’s heavily guarded. Going after him in the street would be suicide. I want revenge for my mother but not enough to sacrifice my life. I thought dating Anya would ensure a meeting with her father, but I miscalculated. Assuming he favored his eldest daughter was a rookie mistake.
A few weeks in Anya’s company was long enough to realize she’s an insipid, whiny, spoiled little bitch and her father barely tolerates her. Irina is his clear favorite, and it was obvious from the first time I met her. She’s got intelligence, cunning, backbone, and spirit, and I didn’t need Anya’s petty snide comments to confirm their father is wrapped around her little sister’s finger.
As soon as I realized my error, I dumped the annoying bitch and disappeared for a couple of months to let things cool down. I didn’t think it would be this hard to win Irina around, but she’s stubborn and determined when she gets something into her head. And, unfortunately, she’s decided I’m public enemy number one, and she won’t allow herself to cave to the insane chemistry we share.
She opens her mouth—no doubt to inform me Anya had no say in her engagement—but promptly clamps it shut. It’s not like she can admit the truth and blow the carefully manufactured image her father has created. To the outside world, she’s the daughter of a wealthy Russian businessman with a successful import-export company. But it’s all a front to hide money laundering, drug trafficking, and murder.
Her body vibrates with anger, and I don’t think it’s all directed at me.
Interesting.
“That isn’t true,” she argues. “Anya will always have feelings for you.”
That’s utter bullshit, and I’m done pussyfooting around. “The only feelings I have toward her are annoyance and relief.”
She stabs me with a glare. “You’re an asshole, and I hate you.”
My lips kick up at the corners again. I put my face all up in hers, holding her body securely when she arches back in an attempt to avoid me. “Liar.” My eyes linger on her chest, zeroing in on the taut peaks trying to poke a hole through the material of her dress. “Your mouth might lie, but your body does not.” I straighten us up, pressing my body flush to hers, prodding her with the rock-hard erection digging uncomfortably against my zipper. “You want me as badly as I want you.”
“I don’t want you,” she protests, and I wonder if it sounds as feeble to her ears as it does to mine. “I loathe you with every fiber of my being.”
“Ever had hate sex, princess?” I ask, swiveling my hips and digging my dick into her stomach.
Her cheeks flush. “I’m not answering that.”
I arch a brow. “Are you a virgin?”
“I’m not answering that either.” The blush on her cheeks darkens.
I cock my head to one side, staring at her, wondering if she is completely innocent. She’d been dating that idiot Adrian for five months, so I presumed she’d been fucking him, but maybe not. She wouldn’t be the first twenty-one-year-old virgin within the Bratva. It’s possible her father demands she remain pure until her wedding night.
It’s added incentive to win her over and get her under me.
My eyes bore into her gorgeous face. “Hate sex is the best, and it happens to be a special expertise of mine.” Grabbing her ass, I squeeze her cheeks while grinding my hard-on into her. Her face is flushed all over, and she’s trying to wiggle out of my grasp even though she knows it’s futile. I’m stronger, taller, broader, and possibly more stubborn than she is. “Give me one night. If I don’t rock your world, you can tell me to leave you alone and I’ll go.”
It’s a lie. I won’t leave her alone. I can’t. She’s my only route to her father, and I swore when I fled New York, leaving my family, friends, and La Cosa Nostra behind, that I would not return from San Fran until I have riddled Pakhan Vladimir Mikhailov full of bullets.