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Chapter 2
Misha
I’m hardly paying attention to the playful banter between Armani and Alek. They’re arguing about who will approach the girls first.
Shortly after we arrived, the sound of laughter drew my attention, and I locked eyes with a being that can only be described as an angel. I haven’t been able to look away from the woman since.
Her heart-shaped face, button nose, and perfectly shaped cheekbones and jawline make for the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“The black-haired beauty is mine,” I murmur before pouring the vodka down my throat. They can fight over the other one that’s pretty in her own way.
“I’m trying my luck with the flirty one,” Alek chuckles. “I need to get laid before we start training.”
“In your dreams, my friend,” Armani says, his tone light with laughter. “When you strike out, I’ll swoop in for the kill.”
We don’t get to do this a lot. Fuck, hardly ever.
Alek and I are enforcers for the bratva, whereas Armani is an enforcer for the Italian mafia. The bratva and mafia have been in an alliance for over fifty years, so we work together as brothers.
For the past five years, we’ve been thrown into the deep end of the criminal world, killing and beating up whoever we were sent after under the supervision of our bosses. Once they were satisfied with our show of loyalty, we were offered the chance to train with the best.
This is our last night before we start training at St. Monarch’s. Viktor Vetrov, the head of the bratva, issued an order for us to receive training, and knowing his uncle runs St. Monarch’s, I’m going to do my fucking best. The last thing I want is for my boss to hear I’m slacking. Shit like that doesn’t bode well for your future as an enforcer or your chances of staying alive.
After checking in at St. Monarch’s, where we’ll be staying for the next four years, we decided to visit the nearest nightclub.
My eyes are still locked on the black-haired beauty as the thoughts cross my mind.
But for tonight, I’m not Misha Petrov, hitman and enforcer in training.
I’m just a man looking for a good time with a woman.
The moment I saw her, I knew she’d be the one.
Another tumbler of vodka is nudged toward me, then I hear Armani asking, “What did the two ladies order?”
“Cosmopolitans,” the bartender answers.
With the nightclub situated near St. Monarch’s, the bartender must be used to coming face-to-face with the likes of us.
The tattoos on the back of our hands are a dead giveaway as well. The right hand’s ink is three swords crossing and rosary beads down our middle finger with praying hands over the knuckle. The swords are for Alek, Armani, and myself, and the rosary beads are for our loved ones, praying they’ll remain safe.
The left hand has two sentences, one across and one from the wrist to our ring fingers. The words down are in Russian and across in Italian.
Russian: Vernost’ delayet vas sem’yey. Italian: La lealtà ti rende una famiglia. Both mean loyalty makes you family.
The beauty steals another glance, and this time her plump lips curve into a breathtaking smile.
Christ. She’s exquisite.
I acknowledge her by tipping my head, and it makes her smile widen.
At twenty-one, I’ve seen the ugly and the beauty life has to offer, but this woman gives the word beautiful a whole new meaning.
She’s petite – feminine in a way that makes me want to protect her even though I know nothing about her. Her movements, the way her fingers wrap around the glass, the way her lips part as she takes a sip, it stirs something deep and primal in me. It wants to possess every inch of her.
Yeah, there’s no arguing, the attraction between us will ensure an explosive night between the sheets.
Knowing the club has a strict ID policy, and you have to be over eighteen to enter, I don’t have to worry about her being underage.
“Are you going to make your move?” Alek asks.
I shake my head, my eyes never leaving the woman. “Not yet. I’m letting things build between us and waiting for the right moment.”
“You let it build any longer, and the girl is going to spontaneously combust,” Alek chuckles.
“Wish me luck,” Armani says as he takes the two cosmopolitans he ordered for the women.
“Fuck that,” Alek jokes. “I need you to fail so I can swoop in.”
Armani gives us a confident smirk, then we watch him walk to where the women are seated. The flirty one lowers her lashes, giving him an inviting look that has Alek groaning.
My beauty’s features tighten with nerves, she grabs her bag, and darting to her feet, she leaves her friend to fend for herself as she hurries toward the hallway that leads to the restrooms.
Mmm… the little deer is skittish.
I tilt my head back, tossing the vodka down my throat and setting the tumbler down, I rise to my feet.
My eyes sweep over the VIP section, checking for any threats. It’s been ingrained into my bones to always be on guard.
“Happy hunting,” Alek chuckles, only sparing me a glance before he continues to watch Armani talk to the flirty one.
Walking down the empty hallway, I pass the door to the ladies’ restroom then lean against the wall, waiting for the little deer to come out.
Minutes pass, and I’m tempted to go inside, but right before I give in to the temptation, the door finally opens.
The little deer doesn’t even glance my way as she comes out of her hiding place, and I grab hold of her wrist to get her attention. With a startled gasp, she swings around, and her bag slams into my shoulder.
The deepest green eyes widen on me, her lips part, and then she starts blinking as if she’s malfunctioning. “Crap… Sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you.”
I find her nervous behavior endearing and entertaining as fuck.
“My fault for startling you,” I murmur, still holding her slender wrist firmly in my hand.
The touch registers, and we both look down. I swear there’s an electric current zapping between us.
Christ, her skin is silky soft, and her bones feel breakable in my grip.
Another woman enters the hallway, and assuming she’s going to use the restroom, I pull the little deer out of the doorway. She comes without protest, and her obedience has my mouth curving with satisfaction.
If only you knew the blood that stained my hands. You’d run fast and hard to escape me.
Only, you’d never escape me, malen’kiy olen’.
The name ‘little deer’ is so fitting for her, especially coming from a predator like myself.
A couple of feet from the restroom, I let go of her wrist only to grip hold of her hip. I nudge her until her back is against the wall, then tilting my head, I just stare into her bottomless eyes.
So fucking beautiful. So expressive.
Usually, I’d flirt until I have the woman of my choice under my spell, then I’d take her to the nearest motel and fuck her senseless.
But that’s not happening with this one. I could stare at her all night. Her gaze lowers to my mouth before darting back to my eyes.
“Hi.” There’s a mixture of caution and amazement in her soft voice. “Hi.”
When I continue to stare at her, she once again lowers her eyes, then lets out an awkward-sounding chuckle. “This isn’t weird at all.”
“What?” I tilt my head to catch her gaze again, wanting those green irises on me.
She fidgets with the strap of her bag, then chuckles again. Tucking invisible strands of hair behind her ear, she glances up at me. “You staring at me.”
“It’s because I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. I like taking my time to admire a work of art.”
The pink stain on her cheeks deepen in color, and her lips flirt with a flattered smile.
I can feel the nervous energy coming off her in waves, and where I’d usually put the woman at ease, it’s the last thing I want to do with my little deer.
I love the effect I have on her, the color blossoming on her cheeks, the way her irises keep darkening.
My gaze slowly moves down to the perfect bow of her lips, her slender neck where I can already imagine the blemishes my tongue and teeth will leave on her skin. I keep moving down, drinking in the sight of her slight cleavage peeking from beneath the silver fabric.
When my eyes stop on her exposed midriff, I shift my hand up until my fingers wrap around her side, my palm soaking in the heat of her skin.
So fucking soft.
Goosebumps erupt over her skin, and I feel the tremble rushing through her body.
“I feel it, too,” I admit. Lifting my eyes back to hers, I clarify, “The attraction.”
“Yeah?” she breathes, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
My attention zeroes in on her mouth like a heat-seeking missile, and I start to lean down, needing to taste her.
“Yeah,” I murmur, my voice hoarse from the intense attraction between
us.
“I don’t normally stand in random hallways with strangers.” Her voice
has dropped to an intimate whisper.
My little deer doesn’t pull away or try to stop me. Instead, she lifts herself on her tiptoes, her palms settle on my chest, and she offers her mouth to me.
“There’s always a first time for everything,” I murmur, my tone low and deep.
The moment our lips touch, the floor quakes beneath my feet, and my body is slammed into hers, forcing her head to knock against the wall.
The floor shudders again, the music cuts out, and it’s quickly replaced with screams.
Instinct takes over, and not knowing what kind of threat we’re facing, I grab hold of my little deer’s arm and yank her body behind mine so I can shield her.
I might not be armed, but I know a hundred different ways to kill a person.
And kill, I will, because come hell or high water, I will have my kiss.