Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Zahkar
“Are we going to get to the club or do you want to brood some more,” Rodion says, knocking back the rest of the vodka in his tumbler.
I lean forward on the hotel sofa and reach for the bottle of our favorite liquor.
After I refill his glass, I pour more into my own.
The bottle is damn near empty. When we ran into her, we’d both been in a fucking mental state.
I had to take three sleeping pills just to knock myself out when we got back to the hotel.
As much as I wanted to scream and demand to know why she left us, I bit my tongue.
I'm used to the women in my life leaving me…
She’d been so damn beautiful, even more so than I remembered, standing in that club. The tears streaming down her cheeks looked real. But that makes no sense. You’re not allowed to cry when you’re the bitch who left us.
Fuck her.
“Yeah, fuck her,” Rodion grunts, holding his glass up.
I blink away my rage and wonder how much of my inner thoughts I actually voiced. Pain lances through my chest causing me to rub at the center as though I can make it go away.
He may not have been looking for her, but I was relentless.
I even had our private investigator attempting to track her down behind his back, but the search yielded nothing.
There were no credit card transactions, no bank activity, and no passport stamps revealing her whereabouts.
It felt like chasing shadows. Little did I know, she had been right under our noses with Viktor, exactly where we had sent Vika, hidden in plain sight.
I feel like a fucking idiot.
“Why here?” I mutter. “Why here of all the fucking places on the planet?”
“Because,” my brother says with a snort. “Life’s a cunt.”
I suck down the cold vodka and slam my glass on the table. “Viktor never once mentioned her in our meetings.”
“It’s just business. Why would he bring her up?” he growls. “He doesn’t know what she was to us.”
“So what’s the plan now?”
“We’ve finalized the deal on the club and now we implement our plans. Nothing has changed.”
Everything has changed. She’s here.
“We ignore her and show her she lost the best thing that ever happened to her.” He shrugs. “I can see why someone would leave me, but not you, Z. It’s unforgivable.”
Ignore her.
Satisfying for mere mortals.
Not for Rodion and I, and he knows it.
She owes us so much more than a damn note and tears.
“It doesn’t feel like enough,” I grumble, scrubbing my palm across my face in frustration.
Rodion’s green eyes glimmer in the deviant way that usually gets my dick hard.
“She’s just some bitch we used to fuck, Z.” He spits out the words as though he actually means them. We both know he’s a liar. She was everything to us.
“Right,” I bite out. “Just some bitch.”
I can’t help but remember the way she’d whimper out my name right before she’d come. The moment she found her pleasure, she’d all but roar like a fucking lioness. My dick throbs with need in my slacks. I absently rub my palm against it.
Zahkar.
My name on her lips always sounded like music rather than a curse. I didn’t like hearing my name out loud before her, only if Rodion used it. I associated my name with death. With Rodion’s mother. But with her, it was something better. Something good.
Eighteen Years Ago…
It’s only been a few weeks since I was adopted.
With her pitying smile, the lady at the children’s home called it unheard of for someone to want a boy of my age and background, whatever that meant.
But here I am, in a house bigger than the malls back home in the US.
It’s a world apart from the small, cramped room I shared with my older brother.
This house is so big I can wander the halls and still not run into Rodion’s mom and dad for days.
Rodion insists they are also my mom and dad too now, but that doesn’t feel right.
It’s strange to me, like trying to wear shoes that don’t fit.
My real mom and dad are dead.
Rodion’s parents are nice and all, but they can barely even look at me when I come down to join them all for dinner.
There’s something sad about his mom, like she tries to smile, but it physically hurts her or something.
I hear her crying in the home library most days.
So, I don’t go in, but I need to get books from there to study.
Andru says I must learn how to speak fluently in their language because it’s my home now.
Even though they speak perfectly in mine.
I creep across the hallway carpet, which my toes sink into because it’s so thick. It’s so warm in this place that I don’t even need to wear socks. I slept in three pairs at my house to stop my toes from falling off.
As I reach the massive library door, a tight knot forms in my stomach, and a wave of nervousness washes over me, making all the tiny hairs on the back of my neck prickle. I’ve felt this way before–the dread.
Don’t go inside.
Don’t go inside.
Don’t go inside.
Despite the warning echoing in my mind, I find myself pushing open the heavy door and stepping into the study.
It’s so quiet except for the tinkling of the chandelier.
I’d never seen a light fixture like them before, like huge diamonds floating from the ceiling.
Rodion told me what they’re called, said his mom loves them, and got them designed by someone famous.
I wonder if that’s why she chose this one to hang herself from.
“No…No…” Andru’s voice bellows so loud from behind me, I cover my ears with my hands.
He runs into the room, crying and grabbing at her body to lift her, but she keeps slipping out of his arms. Her blonde hair sways, and that tinkling fills the room.
Tink.
Tink.
Tink.
Stepping forward, I reach to help, but his palm slams against my chest, and I hit a chair, landing with a thud, pain exploding up my back.
“Don’t touch her,” he roars, and I don’t understand why he’s saying that or if he’s even speaking to me. Nothing makes sense, apart from her being dead. I’m a curse. I should have never walked into this room. Into my house.
He manages to pull her down, and a soft thud hits the carpet. A cross falls from her hand.
Andru picks it up, tears running like water down his face.
He turns it over in his palm, reading something written on the back with her body splayed across his lap.
“Remember God,” he says, sobbing into her hair.
I don’t know what to do, so I get to my feet, limping a little when the pain is still pounding in my backside.
“Wait,” he suddenly says. “I’m sorry.”
I still my movements, staring at him.
“Zahkar,” he says, nodding his head and then sucking in a breath. “That will be your name, Son.”
Zahkar. Remember God.
Present…
It’s well after ten at night when we make our way to the club.
Much like The Vault, this club is a standalone building on its own land.
A parking lot surrounds it with a red-carpet drop-off entry point.
The two-storey structure features a sleek and understated design, with elevated lights around the roof that create an almost halo effect surrounding the entire building.
Inside, the place is crawling with people which makes blending in much easier.
I follow Rodion through the throng of people who move like a pulse of the music.
A waitress with tits for days grins at us.
“What can I get you two handsome boys?” she hollers over the music.
“Find us a table, gorgeous,” Rodion tells her as I pull out my wallet.
Her gaze darts to the five crisp US hundred-dollar bills in my hand.
“Now that I can do, big spenders.” She gives me a wink before bouncing off.
Minutes later, she shoos away some young guys from a booth in a roped-off area.
Rodion and I slide in as soon as she gets it wiped down.
She takes our drink order and disappears again.
We want to see how this place runs as customers, before we make them aware that we’re the new owners.
The décor features deep red tones complemented by gold finishes.
Large screens adorn the walls, and they pulsate and dance with color patterns in sync with the beat of the music.
I can imagine it’s quite the trip when high.
The waitress comes back and sets down our drinks before running off to another table.
Definitely slammed busy. Promising for sure.
When we fully take over, these VIP areas will expand to include private sections so people don’t have to share space.
I lift my vodka tonic on the rocks and take a sip from the highball glass.
The lime has a tart smell that makes my mouth water.
I bring my lips to the glass and gulp down a hefty swig.
I regret it instantly.
I spit out the mouthful of bitterness back into the glass just as Rodion does the same. His green eyes ablaze with fury.
“This tastes like shit,” he barks out, slamming his glass down.
Of course our waitress is nowhere to be found. That has to change to. We need more staff.
“I’ll get us something better. Our supply of Rainbow Vodka should be here by now,” I assure him. “Don’t lose our table.”
He gives me a clipped nod as I grab our glasses.
I make my way through the crowd over to the busy bar.
As soon as I notice blonde hair sitting directly opposite our booth my chest starts throbbing.
It’d be much easier if I could remain pissed.
Instead, I fucking ache. Is she stalking us or is this some fucked up cosmic magic trying to break me?
Why is she here?
She’s wearing a short skirt and red top that matches the ruby red lipstick she’s sporting.
Her wild blonde locks have been pulled into a messy bun on top of her head.
Her ass jiggles as she gets to her feet and leans over to grab her purse.
Some unworthy asshole she’s sitting with slaps a palm on her ass and she grins at him.
It boils my blood.