Andrei
I had spread the word to my men about needing an heir but gave them clear instructions to not tell anyone about it. The last thing I needed was for word to spread to the wrong people. Or the wrong women. I didn’t want just any woman to be the mother of my heir. I didn’t just want a woman who was leaping at the chance to make some money. I didn’t want a woman who couldn’t be trusted. I didn’t want an ugly woman, as vain as that sounded. It wouldn’t do for my heir to be ugly.
The mother would have to be willing to stay under my protection, to take care of herself and her pregnant body. She would have to be intelligent and maybe kind. I was not a kind man, but maybe my heir could inherit that from her. Of course, since she wouldn’t have a hand in raising him, maybe that was wishful thinking.
I had given a lot of thought to the kind of woman I wanted, but I hadn’t yet figured out how to go about finding her, but find her I would.
The next night after I learned about my hated enemy coming to town, I returned to my bar. Smoking a cigar and drinking did little to ease my nerves. I kept jumping at every shadow, seeing ghosts when nothing was there. Last night, I had slept little, if at all. I refused to be scared, to revert to the terrified boy listening to imagined screams. I would have my revenge, and as such, I had my men more focused on locating Mikhail Vasilev than on finding me a woman. That I could handle myself.
But where could I find a woman to have a child with quickly? I needed one who would agree to my conditions.
A curvy brunette entered the establishment and glanced around, hesitating by the door. I straightened in my seat, watching her. I hadn’t seen her before, and she seemed too innocent to be here. Yes, the bar itself was more upscale than most, but the gambling ring, the drugs, the fighting…that wasn’t her scene at all, and her appearance here had me instantly intrigued. She wore a long trench coat that hid her clothes but was tied tightly enough that I could see her curves, her hourglass figure. Her hair bounced as she glanced around some more, and she held a worn purse close to her as if she was afraid someone would snatch it and take off.
Don’t worry, lady. You’re safe enough from purse snatchers in here. There are other demons you should be frightened of instead.
She took a step forward, and suddenly, her expression changed from apprehension to annoyance or maybe even irritation. Interesting. It seemed like she was looking at Aleksey. As soon as she looked away, though, her features relaxed. She undid her coat, and I caught a glimpse of her short, tight dress as she slowly made her way through the tables and people to work her way toward the bar.
What kind of a drink would she order? Probably something fruity. Girly. She was good looking, that much was clear, but she wasn’t meant for this kind of place, or this kind of crowd.
You’re out of your league here, lady.
Before she could reach the bar, Kiril stepped into her path. She barely even looked up at him. Kiril towered over her at six feet two. I was six three myself. It was hard to tell in the dim lightning, but I thought she was blushing at whatever Kiril was saying. That man had no manners at all. Yet, he found it almost as easy to pick up women as I did, but the kind of women he hooked up with weren’t in the same class as the ones I enjoyed.
A leggy redhead walked by my table, slowing down in a practiced move to try to catch my attention. I’d fucked her once, but she hadn’t been that good of a lay and she had only wanted to be with me because of my name and my money and my resources. Not the kind of woman I wanted in my life right now. A few days ago? Sure. But now? No. Not anymore. Not until I had an heir and Mikhail Vasilev was six feet under. Then I could go back to doing whatever I wanted and fucking whomever I wanted. Then I could go back to living my life on my terms.
The redhead walked by me again, and I curled my lip at her. She paled and walked away as fast as her hooker high heels allowed her.
It took me a moment to realize I was looking around and seeking out the uncomfortable, curvy brunette now that I wasn’t distracted. Kiril had moved on, and the woman was talking to the bartender, talking longer than was necessary for a drink order. She still seemed nervous and uptight, her posture rigid, her purse tight to her body, arms close and tight to her chest as if she were trying to hide.
Vulnerable. That wasn’t something I often saw. I surrounded myself with strength. My men were strong. Even the women we associated with had some power to them, whether it was actual skill or money or some other intangible thing.
She was a rose among thorns, and she really had no business being here. Maybe Ryan, the bartender, would send her packing. Doubtful. He was one of the softest men here, though his accuracy with a simple handgun was impressive.
Honestly, I was a little surprised that Pete, tonight’s bouncer, allowed her entry, though we never did turn down customers unless they belonged to a rival, and none of my rivals were stupid enough to step foot in here. Not that I had many rivals, and none were noteworthy after Mikhail Vasilev.
My shock rose when Ryan pointed at me. He knew better than to point me out to strangers. I had made it quite clear the moment I stepped into my bar tonight that I didn’t want to be bothered. I had too much to think about, too many mental demons to extinguish, and the bottom of a bottle of whiskey seemed the best way to go about just that. And for him to send a woman who should be at her home in bed and far away from here, well…that just struck me as off. What did she want with me?
The curvy brunette turned away from the bar. The moment we made eye contact, my cock grew instantly hard. Who was this woman, and why was she looking for me?
I leaned back, amused, and waited for her to approach.