Chapter Three - Zoe
I stare at my reflection in the mirror, my lipstick half done, my hand hovering unsteadily as I try to finish it.
My heart is hammering harder than it should, my breath a little too shallow.
I press the lipstick to my lips, the bold red line drawing a stark contrast against my freckled skin, but it feels more like a mask than anything else.
Maria is in the room with me, bouncing around with her usual energy, picking through her closet, searching for the perfect outfit, as if it’s just another ordinary night.
“We’re going to have fun, Zoe,” she says, her voice light and carefree.
“It’s going to be better than last time, I promise.
We’re taking more friends this time. It’ll be a blast! ”
I smack my lipstick in place and roll my eyes. “Girl, shut up.” I slide her a scowl. “The last time I was at the club with you, you left me for a man.”
She giggles heartily, a blush forming on her cheeks. “Didn’t you see how handsome Volkov was?” she asks. “I couldn’t have said no.”
“Slut!” I start to curl my lashes. “You throw your best friend to the backseat as soon as you see a man.”
“Not just any man; it’s Volkov.” She finally chooses a dress and turns to me. “And in the spirit of confession, the real reason I left with Volkov was because I spotted my Dad in the club.”
I pause. “What?”
She nods. “He wasn’t supposed to be there that night, but he came in. So I had to dip it. He hates to see me in clubs. Plus, he and his men get overprotective, so I had to leave with Volkov, for his safety, as well.”
I still don’t understand, so I ditch the lash curler and just turn to face her. “Your dad goes to clubs?”
“It’s kind of his thing,” she says, laughing. “Especially if he owns the club.”
A gasp falls out of my lips. “That’s your father’s club? Maria! You never mentioned it.”
“It never came up.”
I blink, still trying to process the shock of what Maria just casually dropped on me. My mind is still reeling from the idea that her dad owns the club—the one with the doormen that looked like they could kill a man with a single look. But what she says next makes my head spin even faster.
“My dad doesn’t just own that club,” Maria says, slipping into her dress like she’s the queen of the world.
“He owns almost every club and bar in this state. Most of the high-end spots? Yeah, those are his. And the ones that aren’t?
He’s either buying them or taking them over. It’s just… the way he does things.”
A slow breath escapes me. My pulse thuds a little faster as I try to make sense of what she’s saying. “Wait… hold on. Your dad owns almost every club? That’s… how is he that rich?”
She turns to face me, putting on a pair of heels and pausing mid-step as she looks over at me, her expression suddenly turning more serious. She lowers her voice a little, making sure to catch my eyes. “I’ll tell you. Only if you won’t leave me after this.”
I look at her, the weight of her words settling in my chest. There’s something heavy in her tone, something that makes my own heart speed up. “Maria, of course I’m not going to leave you. You’re my best friend. I’m not going anywhere.”
She exhales, and for a moment, her eyes soften before she starts speaking again. “Zoe… my father runs a crime family. He’s not just any businessman.” She pauses, biting her lip as if unsure of how much to say. “He’s the Pakhan of the Russian Bratva.”
The words hang in the air, and for a few seconds, I’m frozen, trying to make sense of what she just said.
“Pakhan…?” I repeat, unsure of what it means exactly.
I’ve heard whispers of Mafia families, of criminal organizations, but it’s like a whole world I never thought would touch my life—certainly not like this.
Maria nods slowly, and it’s clear this isn’t easy for her to talk about. “Yeah… he’s the leader of the Russian Bratva. A Mafia family. They run things in the shadows—clubs, drugs, protection, you name it. But it’s not just about the business. It’s about control. Money, power, respect.”
I take a deep breath, trying to process everything. “Wait, so your dad—your dad—is a Mafia boss?”
“Simply put, yes.” She shrugs, the nonchalance in her voice feeling out of place against the weight of her words.
“I guess. That’s how it is. It’s how he’s always been.
But it’s not something I’m proud of. I’ve never wanted any part of it.
I just… I wanted to be a doctor. I want to help people. That’s it.”
I nod, trying to take everything in. “I get it. That makes sense.” I don’t really understand it all yet, but I’m trying. Maria’s always been open, always been real with me. But this… this is a lot.
She glances at me, her eyes a little more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen them. “Yeah. Most of my family’s against me going into medicine. They want me to stay in the family business. You know, run things. But I don’t care. I just want to help people. I want to do something good, you know?”
I place a hand on hers, giving it a squeeze, and she smiles faintly. “I’m proud of you, Maria. You’re doing what feels right. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
She nods, her lips curving into a small but grateful smile. “Thanks, Zoe. I’ve always known you’d understand. And you deserve to know the truth.”
There’s a pause as she takes a breath, then her tone shifts, almost lighthearted. “Well, since you now know what he does, you should meet him.”
“Whoa, not so fast, Maria. Slow down.” I walk back to the mirror and pick up the curler. I’m content to peek into their life from the outside, not delve in.
“My father is nice,” she says. “Well, he tries. Though he hates meeting new people.”
I shake my head at her. “You’re not selling this, Maria. Trust me. With every word you speak, I don’t want to meet him at all.”
She twirls in front of the mirror like she did not just tell me her father is a Mafia king. “Come on. It’ll be fun. You’ll meet him on my birthday.”
My phone rings before I can respond, and when I glance at the screen, it’s Jenni. She’s our other best friend, as we’re a trio sometimes.
“It’s Jenni. She’s probably on her way there.” I take the call and put it on speaker. Jenni’s voice rings out amidst a chaotic background. I can hear the boom of speakers and clinking of glass.
“Girl—where are you? The club is popping!” A loud peal of laughter accompanies her voice. “Everyone is here already.”
“Give us a minute. We’ll be there soon.”
“Hurry!” She hangs up.
“Zoe, quick. Put your dress on. It’s about to be a lit night.”
We finish getting dressed, and as I slip into my heels, I can feel the tightness in my chest, a mixture of excitement and anxiety.
Maria’s voice is light and carefree as she talks about what to expect tonight, but I’m not listening.
My thoughts keep drifting back to the man from the last time we were at the club.
We head out to Maria’s car, and troop into the backseat as her driver steers the car out of the driveway.
I watch the city lights blur past, my thoughts spiraling.
The memory of the first night at the club comes rushing back—the music, the crowd, the flashing lights, but most of all, him.
I don’t even know his name. I don’t know anything about him, but I can’t seem to shake the way his eyes had locked on to mine, like he knew something I didn’t.
Something that made my heart race and my skin tingle.
I tell myself I shouldn’t be thinking about him. That it was just a fleeting moment, a passing attraction. But I can’t help it. For days after that night, I couldn’t put him out of my head.
His cold, calculating gaze, the way he seemed untouchable, like a force of nature, waiting to consume anyone who dared to get too close.
And yet, here I am, about to step back into that world, into the club where I first saw him, and even though Maria keeps talking about the fun we’re going to have, the truth is—I’m not here for her.
I’m not here for Jenni or anyone else. I’m here because, somehow, I’m hoping to see him again.
And that thought, that gnawing, irrational hope, is the only thing driving me forward.
We pull up to the club, and my heart skips a beat.
The flashing lights are just as bright as before, the music just as loud.
The bouncers at the door are as intimidating as ever, but this time, I don’t hesitate.
Maria leads the way, her confidence radiating off her, but I hang back for a moment.
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down.
We walk inside, and the pulse of the club hits me immediately—the music thumping in my chest, the chatter of the crowd, the smell of expensive cologne and alcohol hanging in the air. The place is packed, people everywhere, laughing, drinking, dancing. The atmosphere is buzzing with energy.
Maria is already scanning the room, her eyes lighting up when she spots Jenni’s table in the far corner.
Without missing a beat, she grabs my hand and leads me through the crowd.
Jenni waves at us from the table, her smile wide, clearly enjoying the night, and as we reach the table, the party kicks into full gear.
The drinks start flowing almost immediately, trays of champagne, vodka shots, and cocktails are passed around, and I’m handed a glass before I even realize what’s happening.
The food is just as abundant—platters of sushi, delicate canapés, and massive bowls of fruit.
It’s all so lavish, so over the top. The kind of night I don’t quite belong in, but I’m here now, and there’s no turning back.