Dropping my bag onto the floor, I try to slow my frantic breathing. I didn’t cry when I sprained my ankle dancing my last show. I didn’t cry when our dog Vlad had to be put down or when mom was diagnosed with cancer. I’m not about to cry over this.
“Dad! What’s going on?” I push open the door and attempt to rush over to my father, but Ilya and Yuri block my way with their guns drawn. I nearly pee myself.
“Natalya, no!” My father yells.
“Stand down.” Sasha grabs my dad and pushes him toward Yuri. Ilya steps back but keeps his eyes on me. “Natalya, what are you doing here?”
“Me? What are you doing here?” I sweep my hand out.
He ignores me and nods toward Yuri, who drags my dad toward the meat slicer, and then turns to me again. “I will ask one last time, what are you doing here after dark, little Natalya?”
I don’t like the way Sasha says my name or how my stomach flutters when he does. He cocks his head demanding an answer. His earring twinkles.
My throat dries up, and I swallow. “I’m here for the invoices to reconcile the accounts.”
He grunts and turns to my dad who’s trying to escape Yuri’s hold, but failing. “I didn’t realize this was a family affair, Boris. The Pakhan will be disappointed, but I’m sure he’ll have uses for your daughter. Go ahead, Yuri.”
Sasha crosses his arms over his chest. His muscles bulge beneath the inky black cable knit sweater.
“Stop, please!” I step toward him and he holds up a hand to his lackey, who pauses. How can he do this? Who would hurt another human–my father, of all people?
Maybe it’s not too late to call the police. Except my phone is still in my bag at the door.
Sasha rubs a hand over his well-trimmed beard. “What are you thinking, solnishko?”
“Why are you doing this?” My voice shakes. I take in his wide-legged stance as if he might reach for me if I were to run.
“Boris has taken a lot of money from the business. Money that isn’t his to take. It would have been easier if it had been from,”–he glances around–“one of the other businesses, but he chose this one. The one the Pakhan has a soft spot for. His grandmother’s deli.”
“Dad? Please tell me you didn’t.” I can’t stop shaking.
“Your mother’s treatments, and your college tuition,” he sputters. “I had to. I thought I could make the money back after a few guaranteed bets.”
He says this like it makes perfect sense. Because apparently stealing is logical if you do it from the bad guys. A category in which Sasha and his boss firmly land.
“How much?” It comes out shaky.
“Natalya,” he pleads.
“How much fucking money did you take?” I clench my fists.
“Three million.” He weeps and Yuri edges him closer to the meat slicer.
I can barely swallow the information down. I don’t have anything worth three million dollars or three lifetimes to earn that much back.
“Do it, Yuri. I don’t have all night.” Sasha turns, clearly dismissing me. “Ilya, text the cleaners.”
My eyes follow his line of sight. He’s so cold and calm about chopping someone up. Dad’s face is close to the machine and the whirring vibration ripples all the way across the room to tickle my entire body. Silver metal circles and flashes. Dad cries. I have to try and save him. Mom needs him. Luka and Lydia need him. I want to need him, but this feels like betrayal. He didn’t protect us. Which means I have to.
“Wait. Stop. Please,” I beg.
Sasha holds his hand up again and time freezes.
“Solnishko, what will you give me if I do?” He steps toward me, in my space, and reaches up to caress my cheek.
My eyes close and, for the first time, I let the tears fall. “I’ll give you whatever you want. Do whatever you want. Just please don’t hurt him.”
“You are asking the impossible.” His thumb rubs back and forth catching the tears and smearing them across my skin. He slides his hand to the back of my neck and tilts my head up. Our eyes meet, his dark as obsidian, and I fall down the rabbit hole willing him to do something.
“Please. I’ll do anything you want. Anything.” I sob.
Sasha studies me a moment longer. “Maybe there is something, solnishko.”
CHAPTER TWO
Sasha
I stare down into Natalya’s gray-green eyes, shimmering with tears that shouldn’t turn me on but do. I sense the tension in Yuri and Ilya, as well as the acrid scent of fear wafting off the thief mixing with the pungent odor of bleach. My focus, however, is homed in on this slight woman who has no idea what she’s just offered me. My cock is so hard I have to force myself not to adjust my jeans and the zipper that presses against it.
“Hold, Yuri.” I trust he’ll follow my command without question. At least none he’ll voice aloud.
No doubt word will reach the Pakhan about what went down here, but I can’t find it in me to care. It’s not as though my obsession with my solnishko is a secret from him, even if he doesn’t approve. Without taking my eyes off Natalya, I address her father.
“Your debt is now mine. Your daughter is now mine.” Her eyes widen and she sucks in a sharp breath that makes her small but perfect breasts rise. “You have one month to pay me the three million you stole from the boss, plus interest. For every day you are late, she will pay the price. Then I’ll come for your wife and other two children until you are left with nothing.”
I continue staring at Natalya, daring her to look away. Beneath my fingers, her pulse quickens. I glide my thumb along her jawline, savoring the smooth silkiness of her skin. She trembles under my touch.
“You said anything. Are you prepared for what that means, solnishko?”
Her eyes change from more green to more gray. She nods shakily. My grin is triumphant. At last, I shift my attention from her to my two associates and the sniveling coward who continues to quake with fear, his face red and tear-streaked. “One month.”
I nod at Yuri, who releases Boris and shuts off the meat slicer. The older man nearly collapses, but manages to stay upright. He barely casts a glance at his daughter. Shame clings to him. He won’t meet my eyes, either.
“I’ll have it for you by then. I swear.” His voice wavers.
Experience tells me not to believe him. What will I do if he fails to meet his end of the deal? Am I truly prepared to follow through on my threat? Worry about that another time.
I grip Natalya around the upper arm and lead her toward the exit. She digs in her heels and tugs, trying to loosen my hold on her. “Wait. Let me talk to my dad for just a minute.”
“You can talk to him when he brings me my money.”
“Please, Sasha.” She lays her small hand over mine, a desperate plea in her eyes.
Fuck. “You have one minute.”
She sags in relief, and I let go of her, already regretting it. Not only because I miss touching her, but because Natalya doesn’t need to know how helpless I am against her wishes. She approaches Boris and stops directly in front of him. Whatever she says is soft enough I don’t catch it, but it makes him stiffen. He finally meets her gaze, and then it drifts over her shoulder to meet mine. His Adam’s apple bobs with his hard swallow and he glances back at Natalya, giving her a jerky nod.