“What does this girl look like? I’m sure he showed you a picture.”
He fumbled for his wallet and pulled out a small photo, unable to hide a flicker of pride in his eyes when he put it on my desk. I slid it closer with a finger. It looked like a mug shot besides the fact it was a full-frontal of a naked girl, not a day over eighteen, standing in front of a white wall stained yellow from cigarette smoke. As beautiful as she was, her appearance was tainted by the bruises and glazed look of heroin in her eyes.
“She’s definitely a step up from your wife.”
Sergey didn’t know if he should be offended—if it was wrong to call the purchased slave prettier than the wife—but in the end, he took it as a compliment.
“She’s from France . . . Paris.”
“Ah, the city of love. How romantic. Although, beaten as she is, she might not have very amorous words for you.”
His gaze hardened a flicker. “She’ll learn.”
I smiled. “Maybe, but it won’t be you doing the teaching.”
Albert pulled out his pistol, and a pop split through the air. Sergey’s body fell with a solid thunk to the floor, dreams of an underage sex slave still in his eyes.
I shuffled bloodstained paperwork, stapled them together, and slid them in Albert’s direction. “Take these to the bank and tell Leonid I need a new banker.” I tossed the girl’s photo on top of the papers. “And burn that.”
“What do you want to do with him?” Albert nudged Sergey’s leg with his boot.
“Use him as target practice. Feed him to the fish. I don’t give a fuck.”
“That seems to be your current position these days. Well . . . besides one thing.”
I lifted hard eyes to Albert’s. “Why are you still here? The bank closes in an hour.”
He grabbed the papers off the desk. “The truck’s here, but apparently, I have very important papers to deliver.”
Albert was calling me out on being distracted today, but I refused to go along with it. “I’ll take care of the truck,” I snapped and stood, stepping over Sergey’s body on my way out the door.
I walked into the back room and straight into a brothel. Andrei’s pants were around his ankles while he fucked a woman up against a shelf, her legs wrapped around his hips.
Annoyance brewing, my gaze slid to Kostya sitting at the card table shoving a handful of peanuts in his mouth. His little brother Vadim stared at the pair fucking with wide, unblinking eyes. I was having sex at his age, but I wasn’t exactly the best role model.
The scene would have never bothered me before, though now it reminded me of fucking Mila. It seemed I couldn’t go one minute without thinking about her today, and the knowledge worked aggravation through me.
I grabbed the collar of Vadim’s coat and dragged him out of his chair toward the back door. Then I realized I knew those feminine moans and stilled, a dark chuckle escaping me.
“You reek of desperation, Nadia.”
“You probably reek of your American!” she called out breathlessly between the steady slap of flesh.
Kostya dropped a few peanuts, his eyes going dark. I gave him a warning look and nodded to the back door, telling him to get out there now. He got up and stalked out.
“She’s the reason you’ve been ignoring me, isn’t she?” Nadia asked from over Andrei’s shoulder, seeming to only tolerate his thrusts now. Apparently, he was fine with it. His pace picked up.
“Your jealousy is becoming a nuisance,” I returned harshly.
I was surprised Nadia thought I would have a problem with her fucking someone else when I never gave a shit before. Hell, I’d even watched her with others. She either thought my feelings had changed, or this was merely a desperate attempt for attention.
“You haven’t come to see me in weeks!” she whined. “What was I supposed to do?”
Dry amusement filled me at the fact she believed this was her best option. I tightened my grip on Vadim’s coat collar when he tried to escape to get a better view.
“You need therapy.”
“Me?” She sounded confused.