THREE
Somebody fucking kill me now. My cheeks tingle with embarrassment as blood certainly drains from my face. “I’ve been here the whole time, Natalia,” Nikolai had said, and now, a grin emerges from his round lips. His hair is combed back, draping to each side of his face like dark brown curtains, revealing the chiseled features center stage. His smile grows wide while I fumble to speak, and his brows raise an inch curiously.
He lowers his head to mine and god does he smell good. The top button of his shirt is undone, leaving his tan upper chest on prominent display. He’s not as big as Viktor, but when Nikolai leans over, every fiber of his pectorals ripples. Part of me, well, the less sober part, would love nothing more than to pop open another button. Two more. Fuck, okay, the whole damn shirt.
“Are you okay, Natalia?” he asks, and wisps of his minty breath kiss my ear.
My heart seizes, then thumps rapidly in my chest. “I’m. I, uhm—”
“We’re great!” Courtney interrupts and grabs me by the arm, adding yet another item to the list of things I am grateful for. “We just met your brother, Viktor.”
Viktor stands tall, somehow taller than Nikolai and almost double in width. “Brother. I vas just introducing myself to these lovely ladies you invited to our club.” He crosses his large arms and smirks at him, but something about it doesn’t seem brotherly. It seems … malicious.
Nikolai matches his stance, and the eyes I couldn’t get out of my head all night, the deep and bright eyes capable of outshining the Volk stage lights darken. “ Ne oni ,” he says, and a glare stiffens his cut features.
Ne oni? What the hell does ne oni mean? Courtney and I stand between each giant, watching their glares intensify. Despite the ear-splitting music beating the club into submission, there’s somehow an eerie silence, and part of me thinks I might be able to hear the ice rattle in Courtney’s drink.
Viktor’s eyes wince to slits. “ Konechno. ”
“Is, uhm, everything okay?” I ask, finally finding my voice.
Nikolai breaks from the glare when he turns to me, his smile returning. “Of course, of course. Ladies, this is my little brother, Viktor. Not quite so little though, huh?” He chuckles and places his hand on the small of my back.
Fire radiates up my spine in an instant, scorching each vertebrae until my bare neck burns hot. His touch, gentle yet firm, melts all of my insides. I manage to stand upright but know if he had put his hands anywhere else, they’d have to gurney me out of here.
“How long have you both owned the club, Nikolai?” Courtney asks, looking first at him, and then Viktor.
“Please, please. Call me Nik. We’ve been open for two years now.”
Courtney glances at me, and it’s not difficult to know what she’s thinking. Say something you idiot. Don’t just stand there silent. Say something!
“What did you do before?” I blurt out. God. Why am I struggling right now? Not a hey, you have done a phenomenal job. Or, oh, wow, two years and you’ve made the hottest club in LA? No, I opted to pry into his background. I’m seriously terrible at this.
Nik purses his full lips together and visibly contemplates. “We … were in imports and exports. Nothing quite as exciting as what we’ve done here.”
He’s right. There’s little doubt when for the second night in a row a full line of people eager to get in wraps around the corner. The club featuring the hottest D.J.s on the scene. The one racking up millions of followers on social media. Imports and exports might’ve been a stable living, sure, but this, Club Volk, is known across the LA nightlife. And here I am, standing with the owner, the stunning owner of this club, and his hand is still on my fucking back.
I stare up at him, and the desire to run my hands through his long hair itches at my fingertips. His grin stretches for his ears. This is where I die. A palm on my lower back and the intoxicating scent of cedar. Bag me up, give my body a number, because Natalie is ready for an open casket.
“You’re amazing,” I say before I can stop myself.
Nik looks away at first and smirks, then brings his piercing eyes back to mine. “I’ve seen amazing, Natalia.” He pauses and leans in close, his breath grazing my ear. “I am far from it.”
My chest magically becomes a front door, and my heart pounds against it like the fist of an unwanted guest. A dull throb courses through me, reaching a lower beat than the bass of the club. My legs clench tight on impulse. Nik couldn’t mean me. No, there’s no way this man just implied what I think he did. But the longer I stare up at him, his gaze unwavering, I start to think maybe he is.
“Might be time for a drink, eh?” Viktor says, taking a step toward Courtney. He wraps his large arm around her, not quite as gracefully as Nik, but she still seems to enjoy his touch. “The night is young.”
Courtney rattles her empty glass and tilts her head up at him. “I could use another round.”
Nik nods in agreeance but keeps his hand on me the entire way to the bar. He might be doing it to make sure I don’t slip or fall in the six steps to the long oak bar top. Yes, I counted the steps off in my head. I wasn’t exactly sober. And anyone that’s worn heels knows maneuvering around in these fucking things, with a slight buzz to fight off, is no easy feat. I manage just fine thankfully enough.
“Alek,” Viktor announces and points at the top of the shelf.
The bartender halts mid drink and waves his hand to the bottles resting at the crest of this mountain of liquor.
Viktor shakes his head, and the cords of his large neck protrude with each sway.
Alek points again, and as if on cue, Viktor gives a silent no, shaking his head once more. Although not a single word is spoken between the two, this game of mental gymnastics carries on long enough for me to wonder just what in the hell he is planning on ordering us. He skipped over three bottles so far, some of which had to cost thousands. And now, Viktor makes some odd hand signals. Courtney glances at me, a confused smirk tugging one side of her plump lips.
I shrug in response. Don’t ask me. I’m happy standing here with the campfire of Nikolai Vostik incinerating my backside.
The bartender gives Viktor an affirming nod and pulls down a small bottle with a shimmering blue liquid. Every slosh glints off the club lights like firecrackers. Are those gold flakes? I’m not sure. Expensive is the only thing I’m certain of. The words on the black label are in a different language with odd symbols on each side. One word I can make out, however, is votke . Vodka.
“Viktor,” Nik says and steps forward. “That is for the VIPs.”
“These ladies vant a good time, big brother,” Viktor scoffs and his grin becomes impossibly large. “We can’t be poor hosts.”
Alek fills two shot glasses to the brim and the ocean-blue alcohol settles and gleams. Viktor hands one to Courtney first, and then to me. I do my best to keep it all in the glass but some spills along my thumb and index finger, coating an odd stickiness on my skin.
Viktor leans in between us, as if he’s ready to share a secret no one else at the bar should know. “This vodka is rare. Illegal in most countries. Nik is de only man in the country who can get his hands on it, isn’t that right, Nikolai?”
Nik winces and clenches his teeth, never looking away from his brother.
“Why aren’t you guys having any?” Courtney asks and waves a hand between Nik and Viktor.
Viktor chuckles and rubs his palm on her bare shoulder. “We’ve had our fair share, trust me. It is much too expensive for us to indulge in regularly. We save this for our special guests.”
She’s hanging off his every word, nodding absent-mindedly with a schoolgirl grin. I find everything about the drink staring back at me suspicious. Courtney, however, looks over and raises her brow.
“Fuck it. To Volk?” She clinks her glass with mine. More spills to the sides and even finds its way in my heels.
Before I can protest, before I can even toast myself, she downs the vodka in a single gulp. To Volk , I think to myself and slowly raise the glass. When it’s near my chin, the obnoxious fumes overpower every other scent of the club. The combination of hairspray, perfume and cologne from the large crowd in the room disintegrates behind a liquor that smells like pure fire.
Courtney, shaking off a sour, pinched face, stares at me impatiently and nods. Nik doesn’t look into my eyes as he’s done for the past five minutes, but alternates between the glass in my hand and my mouth. Stop thinking, Natalie. Just drink the damn thing. I take a deep breath and bring the glass to my bottom lip. Just drink it.
Crash. The lights of the room flinch. My body hurls forward. The glass slips from my fingers and shatters on the floor. Arms outstretched, I grab for anything within reach to stay upright. A chair. The bar. Nik. My hands miss them all. The entire club seems to tilt on a different axis, and finally, my face and shoulder slam on the vodka-stained ground.
“What the fuck, dude?” Courtney screams above the music.
Of course. Here I am, having one of the best nights of my life with a man way out of my league, and now, I’m on the ground like a fucking toddler who can’t balance on their own goddamn feet. It could be pain or sheer embarrassment, but part of me wants to curl into a ball and play dead. Is that a rug? No, that’s Natalie. Just step over her please, the dress is new. My tousled hair drapes over my face, hiding the lights of the room.
A hand brushes the hair away from my eyes. The touch is gentle, but the skin of his fingers is rough. Firm. I peer upward. Nik is hunched right in front of me, caressing my hair to the side of my face not planted on the floor. The look of concern softens his hard features.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low.
I nod despite the tears filling my eyes. Welp. It was fun while it lasted. Now I’m going to be nothing more than the woman he pities.
He slides one palm to the back of my neck and the other under my knees. Nik lifts me to his chest, cradling me until I’m pressed tight to his body, and stands tall with surprising ease. The mouthwatering smell of him replaces the awful stench of the vodka still slick on the floor. I changed my mind. This is where I’d rather spend the rest of the night. Supported by his strong arms wrapped around my body. Wrapped around me entirely.
He lowers me to the floor until my heels meet solid ground, and when he does, his eyes shift from worry to rage.
“Why don’t you watch where the fuck you’re going?” he shouts over the beat of Volk. Nik shields me behind him with his arm and glares holes at a large man positioned at the bar, his back turned.
Courtney rushes over, helps me fix my dress, and smooths my hair to its rightful place. “Are you okay, Nat?”
“What—what happened?” I ask, still struggling to find balance.
She scowls at the same guy Nik takes a step toward, his fists clenched tight.
“That fucking asshole knocked you down,” Courtney screams above the music.
The man at the bar, all three-hundred pounds of him, turns around, confusion and anger settling on his thick brow. His eyes land on Courtney and me, then Nik, who takes another step forward.
“Apologize,” Nik demands and gestures to me.
“For what?” the man scoffs. “I didn’t do anything.”
Nik takes the final step in front of him, leaving no room between them. The thick wires of his neck bulge. His casual stance is now stiff and threatening. “I will not ask you again.”
“Nik, it’s fine. It was just an accident.” I attempt to diffuse the situation by placing my hand on his back. Fuck me , even the muscles of his back are tight in places I’ve never felt. “It’s not a big deal. I’m fine.”
The man gives Nik a devious smirk. “You heard your cow. She’s fine. Now back the fuck—”
Nikolai cracks him in his windpipe and sweeps his leg, toppling the hefty man into the bar. Strangled coughs wheeze out of him, but Nik isn’t finished yet. He forces his cheek on the wooden surface and weighs down his neck with a strong forearm. “Alek. The well votke .”
Alek nods and slides an unmarked bottle down the length of the bar until it lands at Nik. Well vodka? He’s going to kick his ass and pour him a drink? Courtney and I stare at the fight unfolding, both our eyes gaping as much as the man doing his best to breathe under Nik’s grip.
He bites off the cap with his teeth, takes a swig, and begins pouring the bottle all over the man’s face. Flailing arms. Kicking legs. It doesn’t matter. Whatever the man does proves pointless, and he only becomes further soaked in the nostril-stinging liquid. I gasp. The sheer unforgiving fury in Nik’s eyes, the same eyes that were soft and caring. They’re gone. These eyes are black and savage.
Nik removes something from the pocket of his slacks and holds it over the man bathed in vodka. “Last chance,” he says and grins something deadly. His eyes. The gold is almost gone, save for the small shimmering band around the startling black. He snaps the lighter in his hands and blue flames lick the air. “Apologize to Natalia.”
Everyone around watches in horror. Everyone, of course, besides Viktor. No, he seems to be amused by this little show. Entranced by the performance playing out in front of him.
“You’re fucking crazy,” the man stammers out.
Nik brings the lighter inches from his face, the heat from the flame sure to be warming his skin. “That’s right I am. And she is the last woman you’ll disrespect in front of me. Now, before I cook you like a fucking steak, apologize.”
He’s unhinged all right. And fucking dangerous judging by how easily he took this man down. There’s something about Nik, though. Something alluring, even when moments from scorching someone alive. He’s not doing it for himself. Certainly not for his club. No, he’s risking the front doors of Volk closing permanently to defend … me. As ridiculous as it sounds in my head, in some weird, fucked up way, it’s sweet.
“I’m sorry!” he screams, his breath making the lighter flames dance.
Nik tightens his hold on the man’s throat. “She has a name, you fucking swine. I’m sorry, Natalia.”
He wastes no time and parrots Nik. “I’m sorry, Natalia!”
A satisfied smirk crawls along Nik’s face. His deadly, unforgiving, beautiful fucking face. He lets go of the whimpering man on the bar, and when he stands, vodka drips from his shirt and cheeks. “Get this piece of shit out of my club,” Nik shouts above the music. Two bouncers rush to the bar, hook their arms into his, and drag him to the front doors.
“That was … fucking hot ,” Courtney says in my ear and gives a lustful sigh. I do the same. She’s not wrong. What I just witnessed Nik do was insane. Borderline illegal, but incredibly fucking hot. The air in the club tightens, inducing a chokehold on me and those around waiting for Nik’s next move. What do I say to him? Thank you for defending my honor and nearly committing murder simultaneously? Two birds with one bottle of alcohol? There’s no way he would’ve gone through with it. Not in a packed club full of witnesses. I want to believe he was bluffing, but I remember the look in his eyes. The rage seemingly taking over and how his lips curled into a sinister grin. Maybe … maybe he would’ve actually done it?
What’s really troubling is the question I can’t seem to answer. If he did kill him, enjoy doing it, even, would I have cared?