I LISTEN TO ANTONIO Rossi’s words and can do nothing but blink. Patrick had it all laid out, planned strategically to a point where I think that he really thought he could get away with everything. I wonder what girls he was planning on using as whores. He doesn’t have a stable, and finding a good group of girls isn’t an easy task.
Being a call girl isn’t for everyone, which was one of the reasons it wasn’t an option for so long as a Bratva girl. It’s easier to force it than it is to ask for women to come willingly. Luckily, we pay well, very well. The women who come to us are ones who enjoy the work and the money.
“What girls did he promise you? We don’t have a stable,” Aidan announces, taking the words right out of my head.
“He didn’t say. I assumed he had one. We have a large clientele for our women, but as men do, they want variety,” Rossi shrugs. “We also have a gambling room, and we need money laundered from that.”
“I didn’t know his plan, but I don’t see how we could help you with any of that,” Aidan murmurs.
Rossi clears his throat before he leans back slightly, turning his head to the man at his right, who looks like he is possibly his son. They murmur a few words back and forth while we wait.
“The last thing we want is war,” Rossi finally states.
Holding out my hand for him to stop talking, I interrupt. “Our stable is highly coveted, our women trained and extremely good at their positions. They’re also paid very well. Tell me about yours,” I demand.
Rossi’s eyes narrow slightly, and his chest puffs out a bit. “The same, Vetrov. They are paid well for a job that they are extremely talented at.”
“What if we made a deal with them. Put all the other shit to the side. I don’t wish to disrupt my operation, and Aidan can’t afford to disrupt any of his at the moment,” I suggest, knowing that I’m in the same position as Aidan and trying to keep my head above water right now.
“What kind of deal?” he asks, arching a brow and sitting up a little straighter.
I smile as I lean back slightly. “I have to talk to Yakov, the other Pakhan in this area, but what if we switched our women. Everybody likes variety, and our whores are predominantly Russian, as I’m sure yours are Italian.”
“An even trade?” he asks. I nod as my response, and he turns to his man again to discuss it.
Nobody speaks on my side of the table. My hand slips to Devyn’s thigh, and I give her a squeeze. I don’t wish to draw attention to her, since this whole fucking thing was centered around her. It seems that I’ve been able to shift it completely, which was my main objective.
“You add in some money laundering and I’ll have my attorney draw it up,” Rossi announces as he stands.
I follow suit and we shake on it. A gentleman’s agreement, but with binding paperwork to join.
I think about his words for a moment. It’s a decision I have to make. I want to keep peace, and Rossi has been understanding, so I decide to agree. “On the marriage and everything else, we’re good?” I ask.
I slip my hand into my pocket. I wrap my fingers around my switchblade as I wait for his answer, knowing that if I don’t like what he has to say, he dies right here and right now. I have four of my men at my back, and six Irish to his four. They’ll be dead before they even realize what’s happening.
“I’m old school. I don’t believe in divorce. When you’re married, it’s until death do you part. I never agreed with Patrick’s charade and his willingness to get your union annulled. My brother will survive. If he doesn’t like it, then it really doesn’t fucking matter. I’m the Boss,” Rossi shrugs with a grin. He looks at Devyn and smirks before giving her a wink.
“Let me know when the documents are ready. Of course, I’ll want to see the girls before the switch,” I announce.
“Same here, Vetrov.”
The Italians leave and Aidan turns to me with wide eyes. “You just promised to trade whores with them,” he states.
“You didn’t want to get into the skin business, did you?” I ask. He shakes his head as his eyes drift down to a still silent Devyn, then he lifts them back to me. “That was all very easy,” he murmurs.
“It was easy because Rossi isn’t an unreasonable man. He’s a good Boss, and a good man in general. My father was much like him when I was younger and they had dealings with each other often. Rossi won’t put his men at risk over something like a marriage. Not when it isn’t beneficial or wanted by both parties. He also knows that my crew will give his a run for their money if there is war. Sometimes you have to compromise for the greater good. Nobody wants a war over pussy if it can be avoided.”
“Vetrov,” he warns when I refer to his sister as pussy.
“I got the Italians from waging a war with you. I compromised by switching out some whores and cleaning some money. We don’t have to go into business with them for dope, or guns. Rossi will stand by his word, and he’ll keep his brother in line. Unless you wanted to recruit some talented, exquisite call girls to do a trade, I’d say you’re the winner in this situation.”
Aidan snaps his mouth closed, and I watch as muscle ticks in his jaw. At the end of the day, I’m officially his boss. If I tell him to sell skin, he’ll sell skin. If I tell him to work with the Italians, he’ll work with the Italians. And if I put one of my men in charge of his territory and knock him down a few notches, he’ll accept without an ounce of complaint.
I stand tall, my gaze never wavering as I wait for Aidan to say anything else. He doesn’t, and I lift my chin. “Your top officers and you are due for tribute next week. It starts at nine, here, don’t be late,” I grind out. He lifts his chin before he and his brothers leave the room.
“Do you think you just made a deal with the devil?” Konstantin asks.
I shake my head and turn to him. “Better the devil you know. Rossi is old school; his word is his bond. I trust him about as much as you can trust someone in this organization. Aidan won’t fuck with me. He loves Devyn too much,” I say.
Holding out my hand for Devyn, I wait for her to take it. Slipping her cool hand in mine, she stands. I slide my hand around her waist again. I tell Konstantin to be at the house first thing in the morning as the girls are planning on outfitting the kitchen tomorrow. He nods his agreement, and I guide Devyn and myself out of the room.
Once we’re alone in the car, I don’t head home. I need to eat and relax a bit before I’m home, and I know Devyn will pepper me with questions about what’s just happened.
I drive toward one of my favorite restaurants, The River Café, and it doesn’t go unnoticed that Devyn tenses as soon as she realizes we are not heading home.
When the valet opens my door, I step out, curious and still in a daze from the meeting less than an hour ago. Timofei silently grabs my hand, and we walk into the restaurant. I’m not sure what exactly we’re doing here, but when we enter and my nose gets a whiff of the delicious smells, my stomach growls.
“Hungry?” Fei chuckles. I narrow my eyes up at him, which only causes his smile to deepen.
We don’t have to wait long for a table and are seated near the back of the dining room. A waiter appears immediately, and Timofei orders a vodka for himself and water for the both of us. I frown, wishing that I could have some alcohol. After the afternoon I’ve had, I could sure use some.
“I have some good vodka in the freezer if you want some when we get home,” Fei announces, as though he can read my mind. “You have questions, and I’ll answer what I can.”
The waiter appears again and takes our order. Timofei allows me to order what I wish, and I decide to get gnocchi and lamb. He, however, orders a shellfish platter, lobster, and strip steak, informing the waiter that he’s still unimpressed with their selection of caviar, since none of it is Russian. The waiter laughs and promises to return shortly with our food.
“I didn’t know you had a stable,” I whisper the observation.
Timofei nods before he responds to my words. “It’s something the Bratva has always done, devochka. The oldest profession in the world,” he shrugs.
“I’m not comfortable with that,” I murmur.
Timofei grins, and my eyes lift to his before I narrow them. “Not laughing at you, Devvy. But honest to fuck, it doesn’t matter if you’re comfortable with it or not. You haven’t complained about having nice things. You pick out the furniture you like without looking at the price tag. The clothes you wear are all designer, and my ring that you wear costs more than some people’s homes. All these things come from money that’s unsavory. Suddenly, you’re complaining?” he asks.
Taking a sip of my water, I let the cool liquid fall down my throat before I decide to speak. “What if you took this opportunity, this takeover, as a chance to go legitimate?” I ask.
Timofei throws back his head laughing. If I weren’t so irritated at his response, I might stare in amazement at how handsome he looks when he’s truly smiling, or how sexy his deep laugh is. I don’t say anything, waiting for him to continue. He does, after he’s taken a gulp of his vodka.
“I love you, Devyn. I’m not in charge of the women, if you’re worried about that,” he says softly. His gentleness is sweet, but also a bit condescending.
“All of this, the death, the wars, and the sex,” I hiss the last word. “It could all be avoided, gone, if you weren’t in this industry.”
Timofei reaches across the table and takes my hand with his. “What’s the real problem, devochka?” he asks. His face is completely serious, and I take a deep breath before I speak.
“Sitting in there, all those dangerous men surrounding me, and the way you all talked about everything as though it was just in a day’s work? Death, prostitutes, drugs, marriages, and money—it scared me.
I’m scared for you, Timofei. I’m scared for you and for me. I know how your mother died. I heard about it when I listened in on my father’s meetings. My own brother tried to kidnap me. I don’t want to be scared anymore,” I admit with tears shining in my eyes.
“Devvy,” he whispers.
The waiter interrupts us and sets our food down. The gnocchi and lamb don’t look as appealing as they did when I ordered them, but I start to eat anyway. Timofei and I consume our meals in complete silence. I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t look at him throughout the rest of my meal.
Timofei rejects the idea of dessert, and once the bill is set down, I hear him fumble around before he’s standing next to me. His hand reaches out, and I slip mine inside, allowing him to help me stand.
He helps me into the waiting car, and I watch him fold inside before he starts the engine and takes off toward our home. I wonder if he’ll ever talk to me again, or if he’s going to pretend this conversation has never happened. It wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve been ignored for simply being a silly female.
The car pulls into the garage, and I watch as Timofei touches some buttons on his phone before he turns to me.
“Go inside, the alarm is disabled,” he states.
I pull in a breath and turn to him. “Are you leaving?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m trying to calm myself down,” he admits. I nod, reaching for the door handle before his hand snakes out and he wraps his fingers around my wrist. “The fact that you’re a little jealous turns me on, devochka. The fact that you fear for your own safety while in my care concerns me greatly. I’m trying to deal with both emotions simultaneously. I just need a minute.”
I nod before I bite my bottom lip and then I turn to him. “I know that Dominik runs the call girls in their area. Inessa mentioned it. And I know that Konstantin has done it, but they aren’t mine. I didn’t know you did that too,” I whisper.
Timofei’s fingers tighten on my wrist, and then he lets out a puff of air. “No, they aren’t yours. I am, devochka, and you’re mine. I won’t let anybody hurt you, not ever,” he murmurs before he tugs on my arm.
I fall against the car, closer to him. His hand cups my cheek, and his nose brushes against mine. “I love you, Devyn. I love you more than anyone else. Nobody will hurt you, no matter my occupation. No woman will have any piece of me, because I am yours,” he admits. “Now, go inside so that I can show you just how much I fucking love you,” he growls before he releases me.
I hurry out of the car, not looking back. I strip my clothes off all the way to the bedroom, leaving a trail of fabric and shoes behind me as I go.
My badman may be scary, he may have a job that I don’t necessarily like, but he’s mine. He loves me, something that I never thought would happen when my father announced that I was to be betrothed to the prince of the New York Russian Bratva.
I fell instantly for him. I didn’t want to hope, but every turn had me wishing and daring to hope that our union would turn into love. And here we are, only weeks later, though it feels like it’s been years, confessing our love for one another. Maybe it’s premature, but perhaps God placed us in each other’s lives for a reason.
“Devyn what are you thinking?” Timofei’s voice asks me.
My back is to the door, and I spin around to face him. His blond beard, messy hair, and blue eyes stare back at me.
“How much I love you. How God put you into my life, and how happy I am for it,” I admit as I bite the inside of my cheek.
Timofei smirks. “Selfish men put us in each other’s lives. They did one good thing, those fucking assholes. They gave you to me to own,” he whispers, as he wraps his hand around my waist.
“To love,” I whisper, placing my hands on his bare chest. I can feel his hard length press against my belly, and I press my thighs together.
“No, devochka, they gave you to me to own. You made it possible for me to fall in love with you because of the woman you are,” he murmurs. “They never cared if we fell in love. You were a bargaining chip, a game piece; but I fell in love with you because you’re so fucking perfect for me. My little Bratva wife.”