Obsessive Boss (Bratva Brothers 4)

I'm relieved when I get to drop Zion off at the compound and Hannah offers to keep an eye on him. He runs to the playroom, his fingers still sticky from his devoured raspberry ice cream. The kid also made a mess over his school uniform and my backseat.

But I don't dare want to admit it was nice parading him around downtown. I had a few single ladies smile at me, and Savannah's expression when she thought I was the kid's father was the icing on the cake.

I head straight for the office, which happens to be at the club, loosening my tie and taking off my jacket when I arrive. The air is stuffy. I double-check the thermostat and shake my head in dismay. Who the hell turned it off?

Guests don’t want to be sweating their asses off while getting lap dances. I adjust the thermostat and grab a bottle of water from the mini-fridge in Nikita's office. He won't miss it. I doubt he'll even be in today, given he spent the afternoon with Lucy at the hospital.

"Is the thermostat broken?" Dmitri asks. His face is red, and sweat is coating his brow. He's underboss to Mikhail and helps with the club on an as-needed basis, which lately means working every night at Club Sage.

"Some asshole turned the unit off last night," I say as I head toward the back, where it requires a key to enter the basement. All our money laundering and record-keeping are done below the club, out of sight. The door is locked, and no one is permitted downstairs during club business hours. The last thing we want is anyone suspecting what we're up to or sneaking down and catching a peek.

Dmitri throws his arms up in the air. "Wasn't me, but the club was comfortable last night. Are you sure it's not broken?"

"We just put a new HVAC system in during the renovations. It had better not be fucking broken," I grumble and reach for my cold water, taking a swig.

I head for the basement, and Dmitri follows behind. I unlock the door, and he shuts it behind us. The door locks automatically, and we head down the stairwell. Already, a dozen associates are handling the funds from yesterday, mixing the club money with our funds from other illegal activities.

Dmitri and I ensure that the operation runs smoothly and that our associates aren't stealing from us.

The air downstairs is much more comfortable below ground. It's not as stifling, but it's warmer than usual. "Who the hell turned off the air conditioning?"

Silence fills the space. No one admits to what they've done, and why should they? You don't fuck around when it comes to the bratva, no matter how small or insignificant you think the error might be.

I examine the room. A few men refuse to meet my gaze, cowering out of fear. No one confesses, and I'm not about to put a bullet in someone's head over the club's temperature this time, but if it was intentional and they're attempting to sabotage the reopening, then they're dead.

I can't think of any of Mikhail's men who would want to sabotage the club, but the mafia and cartel would gladly watch us suffer.

Dmitri's jaw is tight. He says nothing and stalks past the men as they resume their activities counting the money. The man is all muscle, so he's been working the door as an extra bodyguard to keep the club safe after our intrusion a few months ago.

I grab the ledger off the desk and return it to my office. I shut the door behind myself and slam into Savannah as I round the corner.

"What are you doing here?" The words come out before an apology for practically knocking her over. However, I wasn't expecting anyone else to be here yet.

"I was looking for you," Savannah says.

I grip the ledger tight and wander to my office. I can't let Savannah become a distraction. "You aren't due here for another hour," I say and glance at my watch.

It's less than an hour until the girls start showing up. My day was shot when I had to pick up Zion from school and then make a few quick stops in the city.

"I was hoping I could talk to you," Savannah says. She stands at the entrance to my office like she's waiting for an invitation.

The girl has me tied around her finger. I should tell her to get ready and leave me alone, but I don't.

"I have work to do," I say.

She presses her lips together and gives a weak nod. "Cute nephew you have," she says, taking a stab at the relationship between Zion and myself.

He does refer to me as his Uncle Anton, so I'll give her that one. "Thanks." He may not be a blood relative, but he's the family of the bratva, and that's good enough for me.

I sit behind my desk, the ledger closed, but hiding it is pointless. I place it on my desk, my hand covering it, although it's shut and the dark brown cover reveals nothing out of the ordinary.

"I'm sorry, it's clear you're busy, and I'm interrupting," Savannah says, finally getting the hint that I don't have time to stand around and chit chat.

I work long days and late nights for the bratva. The job is practically around the clock. I don't get to walk away after a shift and turn off that part of my life. "Come in; close the door," I say. Something about her makes me not want to push her away. Maybe it's because I haven't had a relationship in ages.

Usually, a girl shies away when she hears I help with Club Sage and am around strippers every day. Most of the girls I date don't have enough confidence to handle that I can see a girl in a thong and not want to fuck her.

Well, that is until I met Savannah.

The girl is like fire, and I want to play with her even though I know it's deadly and dangerous and I'll get burned.

A little pain never hurt anyone.

"Are you sure?" Savannah asks, but she steps into my office and closes the door. She sits in the chair opposite my desk, straight across from me. It's reminiscent of our first encounter yesterday when she interviewed with me. Except this time, she's not climbing on my desk and giving me a show.

Too bad. That was quite an enjoyable afternoon. However, I look forward to catching a glimpse of her dancing tonight.

"You're here early. Any reason?" I ask. I grab a pen from the desk and open the ledger. From her position, she can't see the information. Besides, there's nothing of any interest to her.

I need to get a little work done now if I plan on watching her dance tonight. I glance up, waiting for her to answer, pen in hand. She can't tell me she's bored and decided to show up to work early. That's an excuse. I need to hear the real reason she's here; I'm sure it has little to do with me. We only slept together once. We're barely anything.

"Honestly, I was curious about the kid, but since you're his uncle, you answered my question."

"You came into work early to ask me about Zion?" I put the pen down. I don't believe it. "You're a terrible liar," I say.

Savannah's cheeks burn, and she glances down at her lap. She twirls a strand of hair around her finger and glances back at me with a shy smile.

I don’t fall for her shy routine.

"Out with it," I say.

"I wanted to ask you on a date," Savannah says.