Sacha had lost his father when he was twelve. “Death by cop” was the rumor. I’d looked it up, and it was true. Nicholai Plotnikov had been shot point blank in the head by a cop, though the details about the incident were vague. The reports had indicated he’d been fleeing the cops, but police weren’t supposed to shoot fleeing suspects. Especially not in the head. That was murder. Plain and simple.
Made me wonder what had really happened.
Anyway…
All four of the Popovs were tall, imposing, and commanded attention wherever they went. Even young Efrem who was purportedly already becoming a ladies’ man. Women wanted to fuck them. Men simply wanted tobethem. Me? I just wanted a chance to work for them. I wanted to serve the Popovs and move up in the brotherhood. I longed to someday be one of the top dogs in the Bratva. Be someoneimportant. Not a pathetic loser like my father.
Though the Popovs all drove fancy cars or were chauffeured around in expensive SUVs with armed escorts, they weren’t the suit-wearing, power-flaunting type, preferring to dress more casually and not announce to the world that they were Bratva. Maybe that made them more approachable, but whatever, I was still nervous as hell. I’d already made my mind up, and here I was.
Time to do this.
If they spied me lurking back here against the dumpster, they’d probably kill me, so I took a cautious step away from the wall.
Then another.
I needed to be careful how I did this. The last thing I wanted was to startle them.
Because once they saw my grotesque face, they would never forget me. It wasthatbad.
And I wanted them to remember me in agoodway.
I wanted a job. Ineededa job. Badly.
I’d tried repeatedly to find work over the past couple years, but no one would hire me because of my face. I was shunned everywhere I went. Laughed at. Ridiculed. Every day was a struggle to survive. But I hoped—considering the Popovs’ penchant for treating people fairly—that they might overlook my appearance and give me a much-needed break. Give me a chance toprovemyself. I was tired of scrounging through the dumpsters behind various restaurants for food. Tired of being jeered at because of my deformities. I just wanted someone to give me a chance to prove I was more than my looks.
And a part of me wanted to prove that my father’s claims about the Popovs were false. The best way to do that was from the inside.
Lev, the largest of the group, whirled and wrapped a muscular arm around Efrem’s neck, putting the kid in a chokehold. Snickering, he playfully rubbed the top of Efrem’s head while Dominik laughed and teased his younger cousin who squirmed in Lev’s grip. Smirking at his cousins’ antics, Sacha shook his head, his gaze lifting and suddenly catching on me where I stood hesitantly beside the dumpster.
Gulping, I ducked my head, letting my hair fall over my eyes, partially hiding my face. I hadn’t wanted to draw attention to myself just yet—I wasn’t ready!—but now it was too late.
My heart thumping, I peered out at Sacha from beneath my shaggy hair, every muscle in my body tensing as he strode toward me with two of his thugs in tow.
“Hey! You there! Whatcha doing out here?”
I puffed out a breath and lifted my head, bracing myself for the ridicule that always came after someone got a look at my face.
But, to Sacha’s credit, he didn’t flinch as he stopped before me, taking in all my grotesque scars. His thugs halted on either side of him, hands on their weapons, eyeing me suspiciously.
The thug to Sacha’s right snorted. “God, what an ugly fucker. He looks like he stuck his head in a meat grinder.”
Heat flooded into my face, but I didn’t cower. I didn’t respond to the insult.
The other thug chortled before Sacha lifted a hand, silencing them.
You can do this, man. You’ve got his attention. Now, speak.
“I j-just need a moment of your t-time,” I blubbered.
Lev, Dominik, and Efrem caught up with Sacha, along with the rest of their goons, all of them swarming around me and blocking me in against the wall. I’d lost my chance to escape the moment Sacha had laid eyes on me, and now I was trapped.
Trying not to pass out from terror, I forced myself to meet Sacha’s gaze.
Sacha cocked a dark brow. “Moment of my time?”
I bobbed my head in a quick nod. “Yes. I really n-need a job. I want to work for you.”
He let out a small huff, his gaze narrowing on me and making me want to squirm.