Chapter 33 Episode 33
1636 Words
I peruse the half circle of women around our table. They’re allin various stages of undress. One woman has on a lacy blackbra with a leather mini skirt and fishnets. Another has acropped white t-shirt on, but I can see her n*****s through hershirt and she ditched her skirt in favor of a vibrant red thong.
I shrug and wave a hand. All of the women move forward, butone pulls away from the crowd. She is in a skintight dress witha zipper up the front. The zip is pulled down low enough toreveal her lacy bra and ample cleavage.
“Do you need something, Mr. Zhukova?” she asks with abreathy voice.
“A dance!” Arslan answers for me. “Give him a dance, honey.He’s stressed.”
The woman smiles seductively and walks closer, her hipsswaying with every step. “Do you need a break, Mr.Zhukova?”
My c**k is hard between my legs, but it has nothing to do withthis woman. It’s been that way since I walked out of my officean hour ago.
The stripper doesn’t bother waiting for an answer. She climbson top of me and unzips her dress all the way so she canspread her thighs and straddle me. As soon as she does, shedrags her p***y over the front of my pants, massaging my hardlength through the material.
“Oh,” she giggles. “Seems like someone has had a really hardday.”
Her smile is still in place, but it’s a bit more strained.“Whatever you like, Mr. Zhukova. I can help you turn it alloff.”
I should be fully focused on the woman actively grindingagainst my d**k, but all I can think about is Belle.
Belle panicked on the plane, her face pale and terrified.
Belle flushed and breathing heavily in the bathroom, her legsspread so I could ram into her from behind.
Belle moaning, “I want it. I want to come.”
I helped her turn it all off. I helped her forget.
And now, I can’t get the woman out of my f*****g head.
The dancer is arching her back, shoving her t**s in my face.And it isn’t doing a damn thing for me. I grab her around thewaist and toss her off. Her eyes snap open and she scramblesto her feet.
“Is everything—Is something wrong?” she asks.
I wave her away. “Don’t worry. You’re still getting paid.”
“The f**k she is,” Arslan protests. “That was my treat,remember? And you didn’t get treated. What’s wrong?”
“You had the right idea,” I mutter. “But the wrong woman.”
He pushes the dancer on his lap aside, not worrying at allwhen she nearly lands on her ass on the floor. “Is this aboutBelle?”
I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, a loud bang cutsthrough the din of music and voices.
Arslan and I look at each other, and we both instantly knowwhat it is.
“Get down!” Arslan yells to the girls as more shots andscreams cut through the noise.
It’s dark in here. I don’t see where the shots are coming from.The dancers who were around our table are scattering,
screaming and tripping over their heels. But Arslan and I stayducked behind the booth.
I grab for the gun concealed inside my jacket. When I lookover, Arslan has his at the ready, too. And a big, goofy grin onhis face.
“It would be great if you didn’t look so happy about this,” Isnap as two more shots ring out.
One of the bullets clips the top of the booth and takes a chunkout of the wood. Splinters and padding rain down over me.
“Sorry, brother,” Arslan says. “But this is what I live for. Onthe count of three?”
We each take off in opposite directions. Arslan moves towardsthe bar, and I sprint towards the bathrooms.
Colored lights are still strobing in front of the DJ booth,reflecting off the haze in the air and making it impossible tosee anything. I look over and can’t even see Arslan through thegloom.
As soon as I yell, there’s another shot. It ricochets off the polebehind me, and I duck behind a booth for a little extracoverage.
Then I hear Arslan shout from the other side of the club andmore shots ring out.
I jump to my feet and we both take off towards the front door,sprinting past people sprawled on their bellies on the ground.We burst out into the chaotic night.
Out on the sidewalk, people have scattered and there are sirensoff in the distance, but no sign of the shooter.
“I couldn’t see s**t in there,” I growl. “Did you see who itwas?”
He shakes his head. “They were in dark clothes and it was toosmoky.”
“Fuck.” Arslan spins around like a dog eagerly searching forhis tail. “Do we split up and search or—”
“No need.” I holster my gun and march towards my car. “Iknow just where to look.”
Giorgos is holding court at his usual table in the back corner ofthe Greek restaurant, perched where he can see everyone andeverything coming.
Before Arslan and I even make it through the front doors ofthe restaurant, the hostess is moving towards us.
“Mr. Simatou is entertaining another guest,” she says themoment we’re through the front doors. “He asks that you waithere and—”
She opens her mouth like she’s going to say something else,but Arslan warns her off as I keep striding past her. “Not agood idea to get between a lion and its supper, sweetheart. Ipromise you aren’t being paid enough to deal with this.”
The woman looks conflicted, but she decides to stand back.
I march across the restaurant towards Giorgos. I see him tryingto quickly dismiss the two other men sitting at his table, but heisn’t fast enough.
“I f*****g warned you, Simatou,” I growl, slamming my fiston the table hard enough to tip over a half-full glass of redwine. It soaks into the table linen like blood.
He smiles at the now-nervous men with him. “Sorry aboutthis, gentlemen. We’ll reconvene later.”
“If I let you walk out of here,” I snarl.
Giorgos laughs like it’s a joke, but I can see the unease in hisbrow. As soon as his guests are gone, he drops the smile andlowers his chin. “What the f**k, Nikolai?”
“What the—You’re asking him ‘what the f**k?’” Arslanstammers in disbelief. “No, he’s asking you ‘what the f**k?’ Iam, too. So… what the f**k?”
“What the f**k?” I repeat. “Shooting up an entire club to takeme out? That’s sloppy, friend. Very f*****g sloppy.”
“And whoever you sent has s**t aim,” Arslan adds. “He nevereven got close. Though I guess I should thank you for that.”
Giorgos holds up a hand to stop us. “Friends, please. You wereshot at? That is disturbing news.”
I exhale angrily. “Don’t waste my time by acting like youdon’t know. You were pissed because I killed your spy andthought you’d retaliate.”
At that, his eyes bulge. “What? You killed one of my men?”
Arslan makes a low, anxious sound in the back of his throat.“Maybe he really doesn’t know, boss.”
I have to admit, this would be a pretty convincing display,especially for Giorgos. Acting is not one of his strengths.
“Cut the s**t and tell me what you know, Giorgos.”
“I know nothing, apparently,” he spits. “I came here for dinnerand drinks. I’ve been here for hours. I haven’t heard anythingabout the man you—who did you kill?”
“Whoever you sent to watch me at The Russian Room. I slittheir throat.”
He whistles. “Well, it sounds like they deserved it, then. Iwarned my men to end surveillance.”
I arch a brow. “So you’re saying one of your men decided tospend his evening watching me and my… my accountant forfun? Under threat of death?”
“My men are loyal, but I never claimed they were bright,” hesays with a shrug. “Besides, I stand to lose a lot if you’re dead,Nikolai. We’re allies.”
“Tenuously,” I remind him. “Things can change.”
“But some things don’t,” he says. “Which is how I know thiswas the work of the Battiato mafia.”
“How the hell do you know that?” Arslan asks.
“Who else has more motive to decimate the Zhukova Bratva?They did it once before.”
“And then I brought my family’s legacy back from the brink,”I growl. “I’ve been the king of this city for years now. Thisdeal would carve that in stone. So the timing of this attack is alittle convenient, wouldn’t you say?”
Giorgos nods. “I agree. They try to kill you just as you and Iare finalizing our agreement.”
I feel Arslan look at me. Giorgos is making a good point.
“They want to destroy the deal and keep us both from gainingmore influence,” I say, talking through the theory.
“It makes sense,” Giorgos says eagerly, relieved to no longerbe the prime suspect. “They want to be the top dogs. And youdon’t have an heir.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Neither do you.”
He holds up his hands. “That wasn’t a threat. If you recall, ourdeal provides you with the means to continue your familyline.”
- Writer
