2
Oksana’s crystal-clear eyes studied me with fascinated horror. The girl needed to relax; I was barely touching her. Although, I was curious how she’d react if I actually did. If I slid my hand down another few inches and gripped her, if I pinched her nipple that was poking through her shirt, what would she do?
Would she fight?
Would she submit?
I didn’t want an audience when I found out and eased away, giving her space. She shuddered with what I assumed was relief, and I grinned. Anticipation tightened inside me. I’d never broken in one of the girls before. Never had a desire to put my favorite thing—my cock—anywhere near the whores, but Oksana looked clean, and the idea of her on her knees before me was really fucking appealing.
“Open your bag,” I said. “Dump it out. I want to see everything you’ve got inside.”
She bit down on her bottom lip and reluctantly moved to do as ordered. She flipped open the canvas bag and turned it upside down, dropping clothes and books on the seat between us. I rifled through the ugly, cheap clothes and unsexy underwear, and shook out the three paperback books she had. There were ticket stubs from her flights, her visa paperwork, and sixty-two US dollars in cash. I pocketed it and her Russian passport, and her expression crumbled.
“What are you going to do with me?” she asked, barely louder than a whisper.
“It’s all right,” I said in an overly sweet tone. “We’re going to be friends.”
Highway lights streaked by, throwing a traveling beam of light over her face. She wasn’t fooled. She must have a smart brain to go along with her smart mouth.
There was a composition notebook among her things, and when I picked it up, she inhaled sharply.
Her reaction announced this item was the most important to her, and I flipped it open, expecting to find pictures of family and friends. What the fuck? I yanked out my phone and turned on the light so I could make out what I was looking at.
Music.
Handwritten, messy sheet music. I paged through the notebook, intrigued. It was a third of the way full of pencil scrawled across the pages of repeating five blue lines. Notes were scribbled in the margins. I didn’t read music, but I recognized the two different clefs. Piano music? This was her prized possession?
I turned back to the first few pages and studied the pattern of notes climbing up and down the lines. Oksana’s expression was like she was standing naked in front of me.
I closed the notebook in my lap. “Where are the pictures of your family?”
“What?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Your parents. You left them behind and didn’t even bring a picture?”
Her expression would have been heartbreaking, if I had a heart. Her tone was flat. “My parents are dead.”
It was clear she wasn’t talking figuratively. Pain lurked in her eyes, and . . . it fucking got to me. Orphan was a word my brother refused to use to describe us, but he was older. Luka was twenty-seven and going on fifty. He’d always been independent. But even at twenty-four, there were plenty of days where I felt parentless and alone. I didn’t blame Luka for leaving, but it was surprising how much I missed him. He was the only family left I could trust.
So, Oksana was an orphan, just like me. Although, I highly doubted her situation was the same, unless her parents had been murdered by her own family, too.
“Put your shit away,” I said.
She gathered her things and jammed them back into the bag, but kept stealing glances at the notebook I was holding on to. She wanted it, but was too scared to ask, and I enjoyed watching her squirm. Anytime I could be in a position of power, I’d take it, even if it was just over a Russian girl who meant absolutely nothing.
“I’m hanging on to this,” I said, holding up the notebook.
I pictured the evil look on my face as I smiled. I was glad to have an extra piece to leverage. If she gave me a hard time tonight, I’d threaten to trash the book. That would motivate her.
She looked resigned and her shoulders sagged. “What will I have to do, Vasilije, to earn it back?”
My name on her tongue was strangely exciting.
She’d most likely picked it up when Alek had used it, but she’d avoided his annoying emphasis and pronounced it properly. Oh, she was smart, all right. With so few words, she understood her role, which was good. If you gave a woman an inch, she’d not only take a mile, she’d slide a knife in your back when she was finished. And probably smile at you while she watched you twist with pain.
There was only one way this was going to work. I’d establish my dominance over Oksana, fuck her until I had my fill, and then send her on to Mira, one of my uncle’s associates who ran the whorehouses.
Her icy gaze didn’t waver from mine. She watched me like a zebra drinking beside a lion at a watering hole. I stroked my fingers over the cover of her notebook, and she twitched as if I’d run my hand between her legs. Did I look scary to her in the darkened back seat, giving her a grin that was full of teeth?
My phone buzzed with a text message from Filip.
Filip: Meeting tomorrow 9am in your office.
It wasn’t a question, but I’d treat it that way.
Me: Okay.
Obviously, we had shit to sort out.
The rest of the drive was silent. The girl stared out the window, looking at nothing because it was dark and rainy outside, and my house wasn’t near anything else except for a golf course. I wouldn’t say she’d relaxed on the drive, but when the SUV turned up the driveway and my home came into view, she tensed.
Did it look like a palace to her? It was illuminated with nightscape lighting, making the eight-bedroom home and attached six-car garage look grand and sprawling. It wasn’t that big when there’d been a Markovic family living there, but now it was just me and felt cavernous.
Luka urged me to sell it. The taxes were outrageous, but fuck him. I could afford it and wasn’t ready to let the house go. Was it guilt? I hadn’t been in the basement since Luka and his girlfriend left.
John pulled into the garage. I grabbed my coat off the floor and flung my door open, climbing out with Oksana’s notebook tucked under my arm. Alek was out of the passenger seat, and the strange expression on his face caught me off guard.
“What?” I asked.
His voice went low. “Vasilije, be careful. She makes me uneasy.”
“You’re worried about the girl?” Was he serious? He was acting weird, and I didn’t like it.
“I should’ve picked an ugly one,” he said.
He was getting on my damn nerves. “Aleksandar. What the fuck are you talking about?”
It was like he was suddenly aware of his surroundings, and his face went blank. “Nothing.”
I moved so I was within striking distance, and squared my shoulders to him in a threatening stance. “You’ve got something to say, so say it.”
He took a step back and put his hands up in a nonthreatening manner. He was reluctant to talk, but far more reluctant to fight. “You . . . always want what other people have.”
My immediate reaction was to curl my hands into fists. I was a big guy, who liked to use my home gym. Alek was taller than I was, but he was soft. He was allergic to all exertion except for fucking. Shit, he got out of breath just going up the stairs. I could drop him with one punch.
But he wasn’t wrong.
I did want what other people had. I wanted the respect our father had handed easily to my brother and not me. The loyalty Luka’s girlfriend had given him. And most of all, I wanted my uncle’s position at the head of the family business.
I peered at Oksana through the tinted window of the car. Yeah, I wanted her, too.
I wanted everything.
Tension released and I uncurled my fists as the backup plan formed. “I’ll text Mira you’re coming, and tell her I’m good for the money. Whatever you want.”
My peace offering should have been more than enough. Alek was getting the better end of this deal, or so I’d heard, since I’d never paid for sex. He could have one or two girls tonight who were pros, rather than the shy Russian girl who might be a terrible lay.
He stared through the window for a long moment, watching her. I lifted my eyebrow into a sharp upside-down V. Did he want me to rescind my offer and end up with no pussy at all?
“Okay,” he said finally.
“Good.” I forced a smile. I treated Alek well, and he had spread the word to the other underlings who worked for the Markovic family. I’d been weakening my uncle’s support system, rotting it from the inside.
Alek’s expression turned serious and he spoke quietly. “You really think tonight was a setup?”
I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, although it was. “We’d hit them enough times before. My uncle will see what shakes out tomorrow.” I glanced over at Alek’s car parked beside the Porsche in my garage. “Mira might tell you her girls are clean, but make sure you wrap your shit up tonight, or your dick’s gonna fall off.”
He gave a nervous laugh, and his eyes flicked once again to the girl waiting inside the SUV. “Same to you.”
As Alek dug out his keys and moved to his car, I yanked open the back door and looked at her. “Out.”
She hesitantly climbed out, and studied Alek as she did it. Her expression was emotionless, but I could see the panic in her eyes she was trying to mask. She wasn’t that great of an actress, and watched him go like her last life raft was sailing away.
I told John to drive whichever car he wanted home for the week, and I’d text if I needed him. He took the Lexus.
I gestured to the door leading into the house, and my tone was clipped. “After you.”
She pushed the door open, moving like it led toward her doom. I flipped the hallway light on, disabled the security system, and put my hand on her shoulder, halting her from going any further. She jolted under my touch and turned to face me.
“Hang this up.” I shoved my damp jacket into her arms, took her bag from her, and dumped it onto the floor in the mud room to our right. She wouldn’t be needing clothes, and the ones in her bag were hideous anyway. As she snatched down a hanger and followed my order, her silence bothered me. “Why the fuck are you so quiet? Don’t you want to know what’s going on?”
She slowed her movements, thinking about her answer carefully. “I have an idea of what you want, and it’s probably better if I don’t think about it.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because,” she turned to face me, and her icy blue eyes cut me to shreds, “I’m sure nothing I say will stop it from happening.”
Her judgement was bullshit. I hadn’t even done anything to her yet, other than put my hand on her throat in the car, and her accusing glare made fire burn inside my head. First off, it was just sex. If she was willing, I’d do my best to make sure she enjoyed it. Second, I wasn’t interested in trying to fuck a weeping girl while she begged me to stop. My dick threatened to crawl inside my body at the thought.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I snarled. “I could text a girl right now and have her here sucking my cock in under twenty minutes.”
She didn’t flinch at the vulgarity. Oksana lifted her chin. “Then, why don’t you?”
Instead of rising to her challenge, I grinned and filled my voice with mock excitement. “Oh, you wanna watch, huh? Maybe you want to take turns sharing my dick?”
Her face somehow went paler.
Since she was basically my captive, I could do whatever, including being honest. “What I want to do to you isn’t about sex.” I stepped close so we were chest to chest, and I watched alarm flare in her eyes. My tone was absolute. “It’s about power.”