Why would he remember a then eighteen-year-old? Why would he even remember a girl that had been broken? He probably had seen me as a ruined little girl.
But he also hadn’t known her real name, because she’d been too afraid to reveal much about herself at that time in her life. She’d been no one important.
He was older than her, experienced in life, and deadly in everything he did. And since that night all those years ago when she’d been saved by the Bratva and brought to Aleczander, she’d always thought of him.
And although they hadn’t slept together at the club, his interest had been apparent. But he’d never pushed her, didn’t make her do anything she didn’t want to. He’d been respectful, and although drunk, he’d talked to her, asked her things about herself.
Yet you didn’t tell him about your past. You didn’t tell him you knew him, that it was his orders that had saved your life.
But what if telling him who I really am has him seeing me in a different light? What if him remembering I was that lost eighteen-year-old has that spark I saw on his face disappearing?
Maybe she would tell him, or maybe letting the past stay behind them was for the best.
8
It’s been a while since you’ve fought, yeah?” Aleczander said, and Yvgeny looked over at the other Russian.
“In this circuit, yes.” But hell, Yvgeny would lay it down it need be in the back alley.
The underground fights held at Odin-Dva were intense, bloody, and fucking violent, but they made the Bratva money, and so they were heavy on the no rules policy. It was that policy that had the crowds coming in, that had bets being placed.
The fighting was held below the actual club, so far down not even noise penetrated through the walls and ceiling. But they wanted it that way, wanted the intensity and wild atmosphere to be crazy.
That had everyone juiced for more.
Roars and cheers rang throughout the room when the first fighter of the night came into the crudely constructed ring in the center of the room. All at once, people started pushing and shoving, trying to get closer to the violence.
No bell was rung, no announcements made.
The fighters just went at it.
One fighter lunged for the other, bringing his fist toward his opponent’s face. The fighters were controlled, their movements precise. Punches were thrown, kicks given out. Blood started to cover the mat, the grisly reality of it all becoming clear.
And then one of the fighters reared his fist back, slammed it into the other man’s face, his head cocking back, and down he went.
The crowd went fucking insane.
Yeah, this was what it was about, what his life was part of.
The club was what Alexa had expected.
Bright, flashing lights.
Loud techno music.
Barely clad people gyrating on the dance floor with glow sticks in their hand.
“Why did you want to come here again?” Alexa shouted at Vasilisa to be heard over the music.
Vasilisa shrugged. “It’s different.”
That it was.
They’d been here for an hour, and Alexa was on her second drink. She was starting to feel the warmth of the alcohol move through her veins, and that light feeling encompassed her. Although this wasn’t exactly her scene, she was enjoying herself.
Yvgeny, on the other hand, hadn’t been exactly thrilled with her going out, but with his work and Aleczander being here, his schedule was too busy for them to really sit down and talk about what had happened between them.
Yes, they’d talked about it afterward, but it had been that after-sex talk. She thought about all the things he’d said to her, all the possessive demands, the fact she was his. Alexa knew he meant every word, but they needed to talk about this.
I need to know what’s really going on between us.
“Are you at least enjoying yourself?” Vasilisa asked.
Alexa looked over and smiled. “I am, actually.”
Vasilisa smiled wider. “I have to run to the bathroom. I’d ask if you want to come, but I don’t want to be one of those people.”
Alexa laughed.
“Unless you need to go, too?”
Alexa shook her head. “But I’ll go if you want.”
“It’s okay. Watch my drink?”
Alexa nodded and grabbed the beer from Vasilisa. She watched the other woman push her way through the throng of bodies before stopping and speaking with one of the security guys.
Alexa had never been much of a social butterfly, but since working at the club for Yvgeny, and especially when she had a little liquid courage inside of her, she didn’t feel like there was a lot of bad shit happening around her.
She watched as younger people danced, wearing micro skirts and mesh tops, their hair in crazy dos. She also didn’t miss the numerous bouncers and security that were stationed around the club. It wasn’t an overly large room, but she counted at least five men wearing STAFF shirts, and she had to assume there were more she couldn’t see.