I look him dead in the eye. “You really love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?”
“I like the sound of yours better,” he says, his grip tightening. He pulls me closer until there isn’t an inch of space between us. His lips brush my ear, and his voice drops to a rough whisper. “Ever considered switching to my cock as a microphone, beautiful? I bet your voice would improve a lot after some proper throat lessons… and I’d be happy to give them to you.”
I don’t say a word, even though my heart thuds hard against my chest. I just slam my heel into his foot again, definitely on purpose this time. The music swells toward its ending, and before I can pull away, his hands grip my waist and lift me effortlessly off the ground. I gasp, my hands flying to his shoulders for balance as he spins us once before leaning me backward in a dramatic dip.
His face hovers inches from mine, his dark eyes dropping to my lips. “You know what I think, Zoya?” he whispers.
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady despite the adrenaline.
“I think you came here tonight because you wanted to see me again.”
“My God, how delusional are you? Not everything revolves around you, Alexei. Shocking, right?”
“Then why is your heart racing?” His fingers tighten on my waist. “Why are you looking at me like you can’t decide if you want to slap me or kiss me?”
“Oh, you got the slap part right,” I push back. “What did you read before you came here, some cheesy romance book? Your pickup lines suck.”
Alexei laughs. He seems to be doing that a lot. “There she is. My feisty little journalist.”
He pulls me upright and sets me back on my feet. His hands smooth down my dress where it has ridden up, his palms sliding over my hips with a slow, deliberate touch. It isn’t a nice gesture; it’s like he’s reminding me exactly who’s in control.
Then he taps my ass – twice - right in front of his guests.
One of his men approaches and whispers something in his ear. And at once, Alexei’s expression goes serious.
“Duty calls.” He steps back and touches the camera button on my collar. “Nice tech, but my guys sweep for this stuff. The only reason you still have that camera is because I’m allowing it. I’ll be watching.”
And then, he walks away, leaving me standing in the middle of the dance floor with my heart pounding.
Twenty minutes later, my phone buzzes. A message from Sergei.
Sergei
Get to the back room. My camera is out. They’re making deals.
Delivered
I slip through a service hallway and peer through a cracked door. I see guys with guns, tables covered in cash and drugs, and women draped over their laps. I’m trying to adjust my collar for a better angle when the shooting starts.
Glass explodes. I hit the floor, feeling a crack. I look down and see my phone broken with black ink already spreading. With no time to mourn over my device, I cover my head while bullets tear through the room. In the corner of my eye, I see my boss slumped against the wall with blood spreading across his shirt. I crawl over to him.
“Shit…Sergei!” I press my hands against the wound in his side. The blood just keeps seeping through my fingers. “Stay with me!”
His eyes are unfocused, his breathing shallow.
The gunfire intensifies until two precise shots ring out from the hallway. Suddenly, heavy silence falls over the room.
Footsteps echo across the broken glass. Alexei walks into the carnage with his hands clasped behind his back like he’s taking a stroll through a park. Not a single hair out of place. Not a drop of sweat on his face.
“Well, isn’t this nice?” He surveys the blood splattered across the expensive carpet. “Two groups of motherfuckers ruining my evening and my decor. Who is going to foot the bill for this?”
The surviving gunmen lower their weapons immediately. One man from the attacking group steps forward. “Pakhan, we have to avenge this. Those lowlife Japanese keep messing with our operations at the Chinese border.”
Alexei stays quiet for a long moment. When he finally speaks, his voice is deadly calm. “So you appointed yourself the messiah? Your balls must be the size of a breeder bull to pull this shit in my establishment and cause a scene like this.”
He turns to the other group. “My Yakuza counterparts will pay one million dollars in damages for this mess. And as for my own idiotic members, the costs will be deducted from your salaries. Now scram.”
They scatter like roaches.