Torrid (Sordid 2)

Like, not love, because like me, the girl ‘didn’t see the point’ in love. I skewed my face with skepticism. “A girl as hot as you? Not a chance. You’d make a helluva lot more in a brothel than as a wife.”

My compliment sat uneasy on her and was pushed away. “It doesn’t bother you, selling women into slavery?”

Now it was my turn to glance around and make sure no one had heard her accusation. “Yeah, it fucking bothers me, but right now it isn’t my call.” Besides my weird moral objection, running the girls was the riskiest aspect of our business. The FBI had stepped up their investigation of sex trafficking in the last few years, and getting caught would mean your life was over.

I happened to like my life very much.

“What do you mean,” she asked, “it isn’t your call right now?”

I’d do away with running girls as my first order of business when I was in charge of the Markovic empire, but I wasn’t about to announce it. “Forget about that. You didn’t answer my question.”

“Which was?”

“What your life was like. You know, before I swooped in and saved you from spending the rest of it making money on your back.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Is that what you did?” Her patronizing tone was sharp. “Are you the guy I hoped I’d end up with?”

I smirked. “Fuck, no. I’m not going to be good to you. I think you know I plan on being very, very bad.”

Something flashed in her eyes, but it wasn’t panic. If anything, it looked dangerously close to excitement. It was gone faster than a muzzle flash, and her face turned blank. “We didn’t have money. My mother was an opera singer, but she was an understudy, so she worked a second job when she could, so we could get by.”

“Your father?”

Her expression soured. “He didn’t know I existed until my mother died. She’d kept us a secret from each other.”

“Why?”

“Protection. After I went to live with him, it didn’t take long to realize he was not a good man.”

“Because he was connected,” I said.

Everything about her, from her expression to her rigid posture screamed she was holding back. “Yes. After he was shot, things became . . . unstable, and I chose to come here.”

She’d fled Russia, probably worried her father’s associates would come after her, too. Parts of the Russian Bratva were ruthless, even more than us Serbs. One bad decision by their own soldier and they’d take out his entire family. And I knew those fuckers had no problem burning down a house with an innocent family trapped inside if it would give them an advantage.

Just ask Luka’s girlfriend.

Thinking about Addison led me down a dark path and I didn’t want to go there today. I’d like to dig into Oksana’s backstory more, but it would have to wait until later, when we could be alone and it was safe to talk openly.

“Don’t think this conversation is over,” I said, tossing some cash down on the bill, “but we need to get going.”

She had an appointment to keep.

12

During the drive back to the house, Oksana asked me if I liked my job. She was trying to make small talk, but traffic was fucking awful and I told her to be quiet so I could focus.

Alek’s car was parked out front in the circle drive. I already knew he’d accessed the house—an alert had chimed on my phone five minutes before. I steered the Porsche into the garage. “We’ll put these bags in whatever room you slept in last night. That’s your room now.” I pushed open the car door and got out. “Take a shower and get cleaned up.”

We lugged the bags into the house, but she froze in the hallway leading to the stairs, and I slammed into her, nearly knocking her over.

“What the fuck?” I demanded.

Her gaze was fixated on Alek. She was probably wondering what the hell he was doing here, and I should have given her a heads-up.

“Ignore him and keep moving,” I said. “This shit is heavy.” Alek eyed the bags in our arms with interest, and then looked at me like I might be an imposter. I sighed. “You’re early. Is he here?”

Alek nodded, but his gaze went back to her. “Yeah, in the living room.”

“Okay,” I said. “Tell him I’ll be there in a minute.” I used the bags in my hands to push her forward and up the stairs. We went down the hall into the green wallpapered guest room. I dropped them with a thud in front of the closet, turned to face her, and put my hands on my hips.

She stared back, and anxiety grew large in her eyes. “What?”

“Don’t bother getting dressed after the shower. I’ll bring you my robe.” I left her standing in the room with a resigned look, went to grab my robe, and she hadn’t moved a muscle when I came back. I tossed it onto the gold brocade love seat. “I know how you girls can be. Don’t take forever.”