Dmitry: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance Read online

  I nodded, turning that over in my mind. I wished I could ask more about the syndicate, about Uncle Evgeni, but I wasn't sure how much I was allowed to ask. Part of what made the feeling of brotherhood so strong was the trust implicit in it. Asking questions might be considered a sign that I wasn't sure I trusted the others, and that lack of trust would certainly get me sent back home.

  We chatted for a little while about the expansion, and Steve was still talking to Sarah. I was relieved when Alexei suddenly stood up and announced that we would close early for the night. “This place is dead,” he said in disgust, gesturing around at the mostly-empty bar.

  “It's been good on other nights,” I said, feeling almost defensive about the place.

  Alexei rolled his eyes. “I know that,” he said. “Just because I'm not here, it doesn't mean that I'm missing anything. You will need to learn, Andrei, to have eyes everywhere and your finger on the pulse-point of this city.”

  I wanted to laugh at that, but I knew he was serious. Instead, I worked on finishing my beer as he closed down the bar.

  I was one of the last people out, and I locked the building behind me. When I turned towards the curb, I saw that Sarah and Steve were still there, and that Steve had just opened the door to a taxi. My mouth twisted bitterly: apparently their chatting over the course of the night had led to something more, then. I didn't know why I hated that idea so much, but I supposed it was that old adage about wanting what you knew you couldn't have.

  Of course, it was also frustrating because Steve was a snake, a member of one of the rival gangs in the city. They'd been eyeing Ritmo before Uncle Evgeni snapped it up. He shouldn't have been there at all, and we all knew the only reason Steve was one of our more loyal regulars was because he was keeping an eye on us and keeping tabs on the club for his boss.

  It would have been more effort than it was worth to kick him out. We didn't need to start a gang war in the middle of Barcelona; the local police wouldn't be able to turn a blind eye to that. We decided to just keep an eye on him, but now I wondered whether we shouldn't have made some sort of stink about him being there.

  I'd have to talk to Evgeni about it. But for now, I had to protect Sarah.

  “Steve, I said no,” Sarah said, though, pressing her hand against the man's chest and trying to push him away from her.

  “Oh come on, we both know you could use a good fuck,” Steve growled, trying to force Sarah into the cab.

  I moved before I had even fully processed the situation. “She said no, dick,” I snapped, grabbing Steve's wrist tightly enough that he had to let go of Sarah's arm. Steve, in turn, tried to punch me, but he was drunk, and he wasn't quick enough. I shoved him back away from Sarah, and he stumbled away, looking enraged.

  “This is none of your business,” he snarled.

  “Sarah is one of our managers,” I said angrily.

  “We're two consenting adults,” Steve said.

  I laughed derisively. “Didn't look like she was consenting to shit,” I said.

  Steve lunged at me, fists swinging wildly. I easily dodged his drunken flails and just shoved him out of the way. I had better things to do than to brawl in the streets, especially right in front of my family's establishment. If Uncle Evgeni caught wind of this, I doubted he would be pleased, even if I told him that I was just defending Sarah.

  But Steve luckily managed to catch a glancing blow to my cheekbone, and that was enough to spur me on. I decked him squarely in the temple so that he crumpled to the ground. Then, I hefted him up and pushed him into the cab like that, somewhat surprised that the guy was still sitting there. But then again, his rear door had been open the whole time, and he'd probably been too scared to get in the way by closing it.

  I dug through Steve's pockets and came out with his wallet. I plucked out one of his credit cards and handed it to the driver. “Drive him around until he wakes up and tells you where he lives,” I instructed.

  The scared-looking cabbie nodded, and they drove off.

  I turned back towards Sarah, who was huddled in her coat, looking scared. “Thanks,” she said immediately.

  “Are you okay?” I asked her. “He didn't hurt you, did he?”

  “Might have some bruises tomorrow, but I'm okay,” she said. “That's way better than it could have been.”

  I nodded and then took a step closer, realizing that there were a few stray tears falling down her cheeks, gleaming wetly in the streetlights. I wanted to hold her, to comfort her, but I wasn't sure how she would take that since Steve's unwanted advances had been what upset her in the first place. Still–

  “Why don't I walk you home?” I suggested.

  Sarah shook her head. “I'm all right,” she said, bravely gathering herself.

  “Come on, you probably don't want to be alone right now,” I reasoned.

  “I live pretty far away,” she said, shaking her head.

  I shrugged. “I've got nothing better to do,” I said. “Or you could come back to my place instead. It's not far from here.” I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth; no doubt, she thought I was trying to get in her pants, just the same way Steve had been. That wasn't what I meant at all, I just really did want to...comfort her.

  It was a strange feeling. But then again, I had sisters. I could only hope that someone would comfort them if they were in the same situation. Of course, if they had been the ones in Sarah's situation, I would have killed the bastard who dared put his hands on her.

  “I'm all right,” Sarah said again, her face totally closed off. And I knew I couldn't keep pressing her or else it made me no better than Steve. Finally, reluctantly, I shrugged.

  “Have a good night,” I told her.

  Sarah nodded and turned away down the street.

  IF YOU’D LIKE TO KEEP READING CLICK THE LINK BELOW

  ANDREI

  Nikolai Preview (3 Chapters)

  Emily

  I knew Nikolai was a bad boy, but I had no idea that he and his family was involved in anything this dangerous. I was kidnapped by their rival gang all over some war about territory. It didn’t have anything to do with me in the first place! I had no idea what these guys were planning for me, but I knew it was nothing good. You know, what worried me the most was that I didn’t even know if Nikolai was going to come and save me, or if I was just another notch in the bedpost to be tossed aside. Nikolai

  I knew Uncle was playing with fire when he sent me out on that job in the middle of enemy territory. But I never suspected these guys would be crazy enough to retaliate by kidnapping Emily. I don’t know what it is about her, I could have anyone I want, but with her I’m like a moth to a flame, and that was Audaz’s worst mistake. They screwed with the wrong Volkov, and whether I get help from the family or not, I’m going after her. Hold on Emily, I’m coming for you!

  Chapter One – Nikolai

  Diego knew how to throw a good party, I reflected as we stumbled along towards Ritmo. It took a lot to get Russians drunk, yet he had managed it before we’d even reached our final stop for the night. Dima, my younger brother, started singing a bawdy love song in loud, slurred Russian, and half the party—the Russian half—joined in, prompting a flurry of Catalan curses overhead. A woman dumped a bucket of water off a high balcony, narrowly missing the group, and we spun away laughing.

  A typical night in Barcelona, surrounded by good friends.

  I grinned: and about to get even better, as I saw the line of sexy girls trying to get into Ritmo. If there were this many hotties outside, the inside had to be hopping.

  We cruised to the front of the line, one of the perks of being related to the owner. When Uncle Evgeni had bought this place, it had seemed too good to be true: a prime beachfront locale in Barcelona, with interesting architecture just ready to be turned into a hot club with multiple dancefloors, alcoves, bars, and more. It was a wonder that the previous managers had never been able to turn it into anything.

  Evgeni had relied heavily on us for
inspiration for the place. Well, on Andrei mostly; Dima and I usually just showed up to his meetings to drink our way through the vodka that he kept stocked there. But Andrei had always been the good kid.

  I smirked over at Andrei, my youngest brother, watching as his eyes slid past the girls on the dancefloor and locked on the woman behind the bar. He was totally whipped; I hadn’t seen him have any fun since he’d started dating Sarah. Then again, that was the hazard of fucking a coworker of sorts. He couldn’t have fun at Ritmo anymore; he would have to go elsewhere or else cause serious amounts of drama.

  I would never be like that.

  “That group,” Dima said, nudging me. It wasn’t hard to see where he was looking: there was an eclectic group in one of the back alcoves. I’d think they were friends except for the awkward way a couple of them were sipping their drinks and looking around before their eyes darted back towards the group. Conversation didn’t seem to be flowing; no one really seemed like they were having fun.

  I wondered whether Dima was indicating them because of the three bombshells in the middle of the group, or because he thought that as Evgeni’s nephews, we had a duty to go over there and liven up their night. Either way, I was in.

  Especially if it meant I got to go home with the ice queen in the center. I didn’t know her yet, and there was a chance that her personality was better than it seemed, but she definitely had a strong case of resting bitch face. Or maybe she just didn’t want to be there. Whatever it was, her light-colored eyes were narrowed, and as I watched, she mussed up her short, blonde hair, looking longingly at the dance floor.

  Oh honey, if you want to dance, you don’t have to ask, I thought.

  I nudged Dima right back. “The blonde is mine,” I told him.

  Dima sighed. “You always pick the hottest one,” he complained.

  “I’m the oldest,” I reminded him smugly. “Now, are you going to be my wingman, or are you going to find your own group to try your luck with?”

  Dima shook his head and nodded at me. I nodded to Diego. “It’s been a great night, but I’m afraid Dima and I are not the ones getting married on Sunday, and as such, we are not going home alone tonight.”

  Diego grinned at us. “I expected you might make a move once we got here,” he said, looking loose and relaxed, his veins likely filled with more alcohol than blood. I admired him for even trying to keep up with us that night. But then again, he’d had a bit of practice, in the years that we’d known him.

  Diego was one of my best friends in Barcelona. I’d met him the week that I’d moved there, when he’d tried to steal my wallet out of my pocket. When I’d questioned why an apparently affluent Spanish man would do such a thing, he’d just shrugged and said he was bored.

  Suffice it to say, I’d been able to keep his life interesting since then. Granted, he would never be a full member of the mafia given that he wasn’t Russian, but Evgeni had adopted him into the fold and used his skills over the years. I wondered how much of that would change now that the man was getting married.

  But for now, I shook my head to clear it, squared my shoulders, and walked confidently across the bar to the group of women.

  “All right,” I said, clapping my hands together as I reached their table, “who’s doing shots with my brother and I? My treat.”

  The girls looked at one another, and it was almost as though they each wanted to agree but were, for some reason, nervous about it. What a weird group. “I don’t think so,” one of the women finally piped up—not my blonde one, fortunately.

  I sighed and put a hand over my heart. “You wound me,” I said. I slung an arm around Dima’s shoulders, drawing him forwards. “But you see, it’s my brother’s birthday, and it’s my brotherly duty to help him get good and drunk. And to find someone for him to dance with.”

  Again, the girls looked uncertain. “Oh come on,” one of the brunettes finally said, putting her palms face-down on the table as she looked keenly around at the rest of the girls. “I know we said that we were just coming here for a few drinks, but there’s no reason why we can’t do a little dancing as well, is there?”

  There were a few reluctant murmurs of agreement around the table. The brunette stood up and came to stand next to me. “Well, if none of the rest of you are game, I am. I’ll see you chickens at work on Monday.”

  Oh. The realization suddenly struck me: they were coworkers. No wonder things were so awkward between them. I had to stifle a smile. It was going to be easy to get the blonde woman to leave behind her friends for the night and come home with me. If girls were out with their friends, they always had that pesky sense of protection for everyone else, wanting to make sure that everyone made it home okay at the end of the night. But if they were just coworkers, then it was understood that each person would fend for themselves and that they would see each other on Monday to compare tales of the end of the night.

  Not that most of these women seemed like the type to have a rocking end to the night. I started to wonder if maybe Dima and I should have chosen different prey. I knew that we could take them home, of course; I basically never had to worry about striking out at the bar. But it might be more effort than it was worth.

  Still, with the brunette firmly on our side, the others started to waver and stand up as well.

  “I think I’m just going to go home,” the other brunette said, faking a yawn.

  “Oh come on, Rachael,” the blonde girl said, rolling her eyes, and I had to stifle a smile at that. With how game she was to do shots and the way that her eyes lingered on me, I knew that it was going to be no problem taking her home with me.

  Sure enough, by the time I got her out on the dancefloor, she was giggly and flirtatious, her hands roaming over my chest and finally settling behind my neck, leaving me with no choice but to rest my hands on her hips—not that I wanted to put them anywhere else. Especially since she didn’t seem to mind as I let them slide lower until they rested on her curved behind.

  Mmm, there were so many ways that I wanted to take her already.

  One of the things that I loved about dancing with a woman is that they usually felt like you were getting to know one another, for some reason, even if the only information that you’d exchanged was your names. So amusing…

  I let Emily keep dancing for a while, but I knew better than to let her tire herself out already. Instead, I leaned in close to her ear. “You know, I have a very nice bottle of wine back home, if you were interested in moving this to someplace more private.”

  To my surprise, Emily froze, staring at me with wide eyes, as though this ending to the night had never occurred to her. She looked around, as though she was suddenly becoming aware that her coworkers were still all around her, dancing with various people or one another. I realized Dima wasn’t with them and spared a thought to wonder where he had gone off to and if he had managed to snag one of the coworkers already. If so, I was impressed.

  But for now, I focused on Emily. “You can’t tell me that you don’t want this,” I said, emphasizing my words by grinding against her, knowing that she could feel how interested I had become as we were dancing together.

  She pulled away, though. “I’m not like that, okay?” she said.

  I rolled my eyes. “What, you never have sex?” I asked, knowing that that couldn’t be true. The way that she’d been swinging her hips on the dancefloor was positively sinful; there was no way she’d never been fucked before. She had to know exactly what she did to men.

  “I can’t leave my friends,” she said stubbornly.

  I snorted. “Aren’t they your coworkers?”

  “Even more reason why I can’t just leave them,” Emily said.

  “Why, because you’re afraid that they’ll know you went home with an attractive guy?” I asked. God, women were so ridiculous sometimes.

  Emily stood up tall. “If you don’t stop bothering me, I’m going to call security and have you thrown out,” she said frostily.

  I laughed. “G
o ahead and try,” I told her. “I practically own this place.”

  For a moment, Emily looked uncertain, but then she scowled at me. “If that’s so, then maybe I’ll have to quit coming here!” She spun on her heel and stormed out, and for a moment, I actually felt bad, like I had done something wrong.

  But that was ridiculous. I had made my intentions clear the whole night, and she had as well. It wasn’t my fault that she had suddenly decided that she had morals and that she couldn’t go home with me.

  I shook my head and headed for the bar. If I wasn’t going to get laid that night, after getting all worked up and horny, I was going to need some strong alcohol to put me to sleep. I glanced around, wondering whether there were any other females that I should attempt to go after, but it was getting late, and most of the attractive ones had already paired off.

  I knocked back a triple-shot of vodka and then grabbed my coat, heading out into the chilly autumn night.

  Chapter Two – Emily

  My head was throbbing, and my first thought upon waking was, thank God I didn’t have to teach that day. I wasn’t sure that I would have been able to manage it.

  I thought back to the previous night, wondering what had gone wrong. Shots, I remembered. Those Russian guys had come over and convinced us all to do shots with them. And I had had not only one vodka shot, but also Tina’s shot, when she had realized that it was vodka. She might not drink vodka, but I certainly did, especially when I was already feeling so awkward and bored with the whole thing.

  And especially when there was a hot Russian guy standing there looking like he wanted to devour me.

  I shivered all over as I thought back to Nikolai. Hmm, there was a thought to make the hangover go away, or at least to make it more bearable. I’d been drawn in instantly by those classic features: the strong jaw and the piercing blue eyes. We hadn’t had a chance to talk very much; it had been too loud in Ritmo for that. But from what he’d said, I could imagine how deep and husky his voice would become when he talked dirty, how he would growl as he threw me back onto the bed…