Chapter One

“To the King of New York,” Boris Rokossovsky called out in a toast.

“King of New York,” was called out, echoing throughout the nightclub. The Treasured Angel was a popular gentlemen’s club that was packed with members of the Tokhan Bratva for a celebration. They had plenty to celebrate tonight.

Pavel “Pasha” Petrovna tipped his glass to the men surrounding him. Men that were loyal to him as the pakhan of the Tokhan Bratva. Thanks to his younger sister, their brotherhood was now the largest organized crime unit in all of New York.

King of New York sounded fucking good to him. He took a sip of his drink as he observed his men enjoying themselves.

A few months ago, they went to war with their most notorious rivals, the Slokavich Bratva. This rival dated back to the days of the creation of the two organizations in the motherland, Russia.

Vladen Jaksch, the pakhan of the Slokavich Bratva, had took out a contract on Pasha’s sister, Mila, citing that she had attempted to kill him. Mila, one of the deadliest women in organized crime, didn’t take too kindly to the lies he had spread. Had his sister gone after Vladen, it wouldn’t have been an attempt. Leaving a mark alive wasn’t her style. Vladen would have certainly met his maker had she been the one to deal with him.

Vladen’s blatant disrespect for the Tokhan Bratva was evident when he then proceeded to declare war on the Tokhan as retribution of the faked attempt on his life. The Tokhan’s, not an organization to take threats lightly, went toe-to-toe with the other mafia. The short-lived war had been brutal, with much blood spilled on the streets of not only New York, but along the Eastern seaboard.

With a heavy contract on Mila’s head, many assassins had gone out, gunning for her. It was at the request of their father, Salagin Petrovna, that Pasha’s other enemy, Kole Bozovic, take Mila and move her. Kole was a shipping mogul and had a reputation of moving items with no questions and no trace. He accepted the elder pakhan’s request to get her out of harm’s way. With the attempts on her life, it was not safe for her to remain in New York.

While on the run and against his better judgment, Mila had taken it upon herself to go after the pakhan of the Slokavich Bratva. He wasn’t sure what the hell had happened, but from what he did know, his stubborn sister had gone in with guns blazing to force Vladen Jaksch to cancel the contract on her head.

In Mila fashion, she had to shoot her way out of the situation while suffering a bullet wound. In the end, she had taken out the leader of the other Bratva, leaving their organization in a state of disarray, allowing Pasha to move in and disassemble them.

Hence the new title, King of New York.

“Congratulation are in order for our sister who is not with us tonight,” Yulian Nazarou, his other captain called out. Everyone raised their glasses again. No, Mila was not there. She was probably somewhere with her new fiancé.

“To Mila,” a voice shouted with a raised glass.

“To Mila,” echoed around the club.

Yes, congratulations were in order. Mila had fallen in love with Kole Bozovic, and right now, they were planning their wedding. Pasha knew a good business opportunity when he saw one. Kole and Mila would wed, meaning that Kole’s organization, the Belotov gang, would become a strong ally for the Tokhans. Everything would be right in the world.

Pasha glanced up at the change of music. A new girl, dressed only in a skinny outfit, came out on the main stage and began grinding on the stripper’s pole. Catcalls and lewd comments were thrown out as she took what little items she had off. The Treasured Angel was an exclusive club that didn’t grant entrance to just anyone.

“Here’s another drink, sir,” the waitress announced as she dropped off his drink and took his empty glass.

He settled back as he watched the female on stage. He might as well enjoy himself tonight. His men deserved a night on the town to relax. They had been working diligently as they continued their takeover of all the Slokavich territory.

“You look so serious and tense.” A female’s husky voice appeared at his side. Two small hands slid along his shoulders and began to gently massage them. He relaxed as the hands worked wonders on his tense muscles.

He glanced over to his side and found a female with dark hair. His eyes perused her body, finding her full breasts straining against her low-cut top. Her short skirt showed off her long, tan legs.

“I think we need to take him to a private room and help him relax,” the one massaging his shoulders spoke up.

“I have had a rough week,” he murmured, knocking back a healthy amount of vodka. Rough week barely described the past seven days.

“Hmm…that sounds like a great idea,” the brunette announced, licking her luscious red lips. She reached down and took his hand in hers. He knew what happened in the private rooms and was in need of a good release.

The Treasured Angel was known to employ the hottest women around who loved to have a good time, and anything was a go as long as all parties were down for a little fun. The owner was on Pasha’s payroll, and tonight, the club was reserved for his men only. His security was posted around the building and outside to ensure that they would be able to relax.

Pasha could feel his cock thickening at the thought of taking two women. He pushed back from the table and glanced at the one massaging his shoulders, finding a little hot blonde with a low-cut black dress, with a zipper that ran the length of the material. The blonde came up and took his other hand as the brunette led them through the club.

Tonight would be a night of relaxation and enjoyment. These two would do well enough.