Chapter 7: Chapter 7

Kir

For fuck’s sake.

All I want to do is relax. This week has been one pain in the ass after another, from cash going ‘missing’ from one of our liquor stores to someone pulling a gun at one of our card games. Instead of chilling out, I have to listen to this woman lose her shit. So, I put on my noise-cancelling headphones and turn on some music I haven’t listened to in a while.

A lilting, French café song fills my ears, and I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, transported to happier days. Before I knew what searing pain and longing were.

Before my beloved was killed.

I adjust the volume of her recorded music. It’s really the only thing I have left of her. When she was killed, her asshole parents swept in and removed every trace of her from our home.

I was too grief-stricken at the time to stop them, catatonic as I was for the better part of a year.

I take a deep breath as she finishes a song that’s always been one of my favorites. I remember her singing it onstage with a flower behind her ear, her lips nearly kissing the mic, staring at me like I was the only person in the room.

We might have been in a crowded club, but it was always just the two of us.

I didn’t deserve her. If she were alive, I’d tell her that.

My eyes fall closed and I am remembering her scent when a hand lands on my shoulder, startling the shit out of me. My eyes fly open. I yank the headphones off, and the room fills with Clara’s lovely voice.

“Fuck, Niko, you scared the shit out me,” I yell.

My brother takes a step back, hands up, as if in surrender. “Easy man. I knocked several times but no answer. When you have those headphones on, you can’t hear a goddamn thing.”

“Yeah. That’s kind of the point.”

Niko looks at the headphones, now on the floor where I dropped them, Clara’s lilting song pouring out of them.

I know what he’s going to say. He’s said it a hundred times before.

And he’ll say it again.

“I don’t know why you do this to yourself, man.”

No, he doesn’t know. He never will. No one will.

It’s my cross to bear.

“What’d you come by for, Nik?” I ask.

He tilts his head toward the wall that my room shares with Charleigh’s. “I guess you heard her, huh?”

I nod, grabbing my headphones off the floor and shutting down my phone’s music app.

My brother Niko’s a good guy. Almost too good. He can be a hard ass when he needs to, but he’s also the kind of person who finds a spider in the house and goes out of his way to move it outside before someone stomps on it.

He’s always been that way, unlike Vadik and me. And there’s a reason for that, if you ask me.

“I was thinking of going to talk to her,” he starts to say.

Oh, Christ.

“You can’t do that, Niko. You know you can’t. And what would you say, anyway? We’re selling your virgin ass for beaucoup bucks to some rich motherfucker? I bet she’d love to hear that.”

“I feel for her, Kir—” he starts to say.

I stop him. “I know you do, man, but you know the rules. You know how we do things. Same as we always have. That’s not gonna change.”

He’s a kind-hearted man, Niko is. Much more so than Vadik and me. And he knows what betrayal feels like. So, he’s got something in common with this chick. Thus, the empathy.

Although he has empathy for everyone.

Which means we need to watch him at all times.

Not five minutes later, we’re summoned to dinner. We settle into the opulent dining room and are served the incredible food Chef always prepares for us.

“Chef, can you make sure the woman in the guest room also gets a nice plate of this for herself?” Niko asks.

“Of course, Mr. Alekseev,” he says, heading back to the kitchen.

Goddamn if Chef isn’t one talented motherfucker. I dig into my filet mignon and the tender meat melts in my mouth.

But Vadik hasn’t picked up his utensils yet.

In between bites—I’m fucking starving—I glance at him and find he’s looking at Niko.

Actually, he’s not just looking at him. He’s glaring at him.

And this eventually dawns on Niko, too. He looks at our brother, frowning. “What? What’s up your ass?”

Vadik rolls his head back on his neck like he’s trying to shake out some tension and returns his gaze to our brother. “Why did you ask for a plate of food for Charleigh? We weren’t going to let her starve for Christ’s sake.”

Niko shrugs. “Guess I wanted her to have a plate of the good stuff.”

“Nik, you gotta keep your pecker in your pants. Don’t be getting any ideas about that girl. She’s our cash cow, and we’re gonna exploit that like the motherfuckers we are. Don’t be going sweet on her.”

Vadik knows wanting something too much, especially a woman, is a sure recipe for trouble. We all know that. And Niko doesn’t appreciate being reminded.

He grinds his teeth. He might be the soft one of the three of us, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get pissed at his big brother. “She was crying, asshole. I could hear it. Kir heard it too. So, I thought a nice dinner was in order. That’s all. Calm the fuck down. I saw you looking at her too, my friend.”

Niko might have pushed back, but it’s obvious Vadik’s message is loud and clear. He picks up his fork and knife and dives into his dinner.

“Chef!” he hollers a minute later.

“Yes, Mr. Alekseev?” he asks, his head poking out from the kitchen.

“Get Dominika up here. We need to talk to her.” He adds please as an afterthought.

Typical Vadik.

Chef nods. “Shall I prepare a place for her at the table?”

My brother shakes his head with force. “No. Absolutely not.”

That Dominika will see this as a huge slight, not being invited to join our meal, is not lost on Vadik. In some ways, the two of them are similar, with their desire to be ‘head bitch in charge,’ as Niko calls it. We do have some pressing things to discuss with her, but I, personally, would not have invited her to a meeting that includes watching us eat a fabulous dinner.

But Vadik Is a douche that way.

******

Kir

“Gentlemen,” Dominika says in greeting about ten minutes later. She looks around the table and when she sees there is no place set for her, instantly gets the message. Almost imperceptibly, because she’s good like that, her head jerks in response. She knows she’s being dissed. And bless her, she forces herself into a semi-smiling façade of pleasantness.

It must be excruciating.

“What can I do for you?” she asks from across the room where she remains standing. Like a servant.

Vadik takes a bite of his steak, followed up by a swig of wine, just to make her wait. Classic Vadik, making her cool her heels.

And if I didn’t have the level of self-preservation I do, I’d laugh out loud at their juvenile tug-of-war.

“Domi, how are you preparing for the auction? Can you pull it together in time?” he asks, dabbing his face with a napkin.

She hates that nickname. Which is exactly why my brother uses it.

I steal a look at Niko, whose eyebrows are raised. Everyone watches their scuffle. No one says a thing.

“Yes, Vadik, I’m calling all the high rollers right now. I’m about halfway through the list. One may fly in from Saudi Arabia.”

Jesus Christ. That means big money. Big fucking money. If men like that see something they want, they bid it up until no one else can afford it.

Because no one has more money than they do.

Bastards.

But if all goes according to plan, we’ll have ourselves a chunk of their fucking money, and soon too.

“I passed by the girl’s room a moment ago. Looks like she’s having a nice dinner,” Dominika says, looking around the table.

It’s funny, how much one look can say. She’s pissed. When my father was running the joint, he treated her like a queen. And when Uncle was in charge, he let her do whatever the fuck she wanted.

But now that my brothers and I are in charge? Shit’s different.

Way different.

Niko, always the peacemaker, chimes in. “Yeah, she was having a hard time of it, so I thought a nice dinner would do her good.”

Dominika couldn’t give a shit.

Seriously. If the girl starved, the woman wouldn’t bat an eye.

Vadik continues. “You’ll be getting her ready this week, won’t you?”

“Absolutely. She’ll look like a million bucks by the time I’m done with her.”

Dominika excels in this area. I’ve seen her turn many a girl off the street into women who resemble runway models.

It’s like staging a home. The nicer it looks, the more it sells for. Common sense, really.

Vadik nods, his mood visibly improved. His commitment to the club borders on obsessive, just like being the oldest perfect son does. “Good. Good work. There’s a bonus in this for you, Dominika, if all goes according to plan. The girl has great potential.”

At this, her face brightens. “I agree, boss. She’ll fetch a pretty penny.”

She heads for the door, any insults forgotten. When there is money involved, Dominika is nothing if not predictable.

It looks like our lovely Charleigh will not be in house for very long. Which is probably just as well. I can already see Niko has it over for her, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I want to get to know her better myself. Not necessarily deflower her, but I’d relish teaching her the ways of a sensuous woman.

I’d be patient the first time she took my dick into her mouth, telling her to taste my precum before she lets my length run over her tongue. I’d tickle her throat to help her relax so she can take me as deeply as a woman is supposed to do shit like that.

After a minute, I’d hold her head as I pumped her face, but not too hard. Don’t want to scare her off, at least the first time. Let the hard shit come later, with some other guy.

Open your throat for me, my beauty,I’d say.

Just like how I trained Clara. She’d suck my dick anytime of the day or night. She was amazing.

And for fuck’s sake, I can’t deny it any longer. Charleigh looks like her. Not identical, but close enough to cause any of us a double-take. Vadik and Niko have noticed. And they are watching me.

As is Dominika.

And you know what?

They can all fuck right off.