Series: Series by Ker Dukey
Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“Don’t touch her,” he roars, and I don’t understand why he’s saying that or if he’s even speaking to me. Nothing makes sense, apart from her being dead. I’m a curse. I should have never walked into this room. Into my house.
He manages to pull her down, and a soft thud hits the carpet. A cross falls from her hand.
Andru picks it up, tears running like water down his face.
He turns it over in his palm, reading something written on the back with her body splayed across his lap.
“Remember God,” he says, sobbing into her hair.
I don’t know what to do, so I get to my feet, limping a little when the pain is still pounding in my backside.
“Wait,” he suddenly says. “I’m sorry.”
I still my movements, staring at him.
“Zahkar,” he says, nodding his head and then sucking in a breath. “That will be your name, Son.”
Zahkar. Remember God.
Present…
It’s well after ten at night when we make our way to the club. Much like The Vault, this club is a standalone building on its own land. A parking lot surrounds it with a red-carpet drop-off entry point. The two-storey structure features a sleek and understated design, with elevated lights around the roof that create an almost halo effect surrounding the entire building. Inside, the place is crawling with people which makes blending in much easier. I follow Rodion through the throng of people who move like a pulse of the music. A waitress with tits for days grins at us.
“What can I get you two handsome boys?” she hollers over the music.
“Find us a table, gorgeous,” Rodion tells her as I pull out my wallet.
Her gaze darts to the five crisp US hundred-dollar bills in my hand.
“Now that I can do, big spenders.” She gives me a wink before bouncing off.
Minutes later, she shoos away some young guys from a booth in a roped-off area. Rodion and I slide in as soon as she gets it wiped down. She takes our drink order and disappears again. We want to see how this place runs as customers, before we make them aware that we’re the new owners. The décor features deep red tones complemented by gold finishes. Large screens adorn the walls, and they pulsate and dance with color patterns in sync with the beat of the music. I can imagine it’s quite the trip when high.
The waitress comes back and sets down our drinks before running off to another table. Definitely slammed busy. Promising for sure. When we fully take over, these VIP areas will expand to include private sections so people don’t have to share space. I lift my vodka tonic on the rocks and take a sip from the highball glass. The lime has a tart smell that makes my mouth water. I bring my lips to the glass and gulp down a hefty swig.
I regret it instantly.
I spit out the mouthful of bitterness back into the glass just as Rodion does the same. His green eyes ablaze with fury.
“This tastes like shit,” he barks out, slamming his glass down.
Of course our waitress is nowhere to be found. That has to change to. We need more staff.
“I’ll get us something better. Our supply of Rainbow Vodka should be here by now,” I assure him. “Don’t lose our table.”
He gives me a clipped nod as I grab our glasses. I make my way through the crowd over to the busy bar. As soon as I notice blonde hair sitting directly opposite our booth my chest starts throbbing. It’d be much easier if I could remain pissed. Instead, I fucking ache. Is she stalking us or is this some fucked up cosmic magic trying to break me?
Why is she here?
She’s wearing a short skirt and red top that matches the ruby red lipstick she’s sporting. Her wild blonde locks have been pulled into a messy bun on top of her head. Her ass jiggles as she gets to her feet and leans over to grab her purse. Some unworthy asshole she’s sitting with slaps a palm on her ass and she grins at him.
It boils my blood.
It shouldn’t. She is not ours anymore. I don’t want her. Liar.
“You,” I snap, gaining the bartender’s attention. “The drinks you made were shit.”
Alyona’s head whips around at the sound of my voice and she gapes at me as though she doesn’t expect to see me. You can’t get rid of us that easily, krasotka. Gorgeous.
“I’m sorry,” the bartender says with a frown. “If you’d like something else, I can make you something.”
“Give them the Rainbow Vodka, Mazza,” Alyona says, sidling up next to me. “I know you bought this place. I didn’t plan on coming here tonight.” Her eyebrows furl together as she darts her eyes back to the table of men she's with. Then, she leans forward, and like the sucker I am, I dip my gaze to her cleavage that I know from fucking experience tastes like heaven. “It just happens to be our favorite club. I don’t want trouble.” She seems to question her own words, her eyes squeezing shut and her head shaking. “You know what I mean.”