Devil from Moscow
A Dark Bratva Romance
Chapter 1
Nina
“Idon’t understand,” I say, but the words are too quiet and go unheard as my dad storms away. Running to catch up, I fall in step beside him, wishing like hell he didn’t intimidate me as much as he does. Even in his early fifties, he’s still a formidable presence that has the people in front of us stepping aside as we walk away from the campus that I have no desire to leave.
When he still ignores me, I ask, “Why do I have to leave? What’s going on?”
Annoyed, he turns to look down at me. His dark eyes, so brown they’re almost black, the same exact ones that I see in the mirror every damn day, are devoid of all feeling as they lock on mine.
“I pulled you from school because you need to take a small break.” He says it very slowly like I’m a small child and he’s at the end of his rope.
“But I don’t want to take a break.”
He quirks a brow at me, ignoring the fact that I’m twenty-two years old and perfectly capable of making my own decisions in life. Leaning closer, he says, “Get in the fucking car, Nina. Your mom is waiting.”
Knowing it’s useless to argue, I clutch my backpack and get in the waiting limo where my mom is sitting picture-perfect in her black, pencil skirt and peach blouse, not a dyed blonde hair out of place. I know better than to look to her for comfort, but it doesn’t stop me from trying to get information.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
She finishes reapplying her lipstick before closing her gold compact and meeting my eyes. “Stop being so dramatic, Nina. It’s just a small leave of absence from the university. You can go back once everything is settled.”
“Once what is settled?” I ask, watching my dad get in and motion for the driver to leave.
My mom sighs and shrugs her slender shoulders. “Your father needs your help.”
“With what?” I look at my mom and dad, seeing them as they really are instead of the happy façade they show everyone else. My mom’s sitting as far away from him as the limo allows, and when she looks over at him, I can see the look of absolute disdain she gives him and the way her mouth hardens into a tight line whenever he speaks.
“He’s racked up a bit of a gambling debt, and they’re not letting him sweet talk his way out of it this time.”
My father groans and cuts my mom a deadly look before turning his focus back to me. “It’s not a big deal, Nina, and I hope you’re not going to act like a baby about this. I’ve arranged for you to work off my debt.”
My mind reels with the information, trying to make sense of everything they’re saying. “You want me to work to pay off your debt? Why me? I don’t understand.”
“Because I’m a man and your mom is too old to attract the kind of attention they want.”
“Bastard,” my mom mutters.
“Wait, so you want me to strip to work off your debt? Are you kidding me?”
“You’re being dramatic, sweetheart,” my mom says. “It’s just a cute little lounge. They just want pretty girls to sit around and bring in male customers. You’ll be expected to look pretty and flirt a bit. It’s really not a big deal. How hard is it to smile and hand out drinks?”
“How the hell is that going to pay off dad’s massive debt? They could hire anyone to do that.”
Neither one will meet my eyes, and it’s painfully obvious there’s more to this story. I sit back in my seat and say, “I’m not doing it. You’re going to have to get yourself out of this mess, Dad. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to whatever slimy club this is to work off your damn debt.”
My dad lunges forward and grabs my wrist, pulling a surprised yelp from me. He tightens his grip, squeezing hard enough to hurt.
“Yes, you fucking are, Nina.” His voice is low and hard, and the look in his eyes is wild, like a man unhinged. I’ve seen him lose control before, but never like this. “The men I owe money to are dangerous, so if you don’t do this, then they’re going to come after your mom and me. And don’t fucking forget that it’s my money that’s paying for your goddamn degree.”
“What do you mean dangerous? I thought you said it wasn’t a big deal.”
“It won’t be as long as you go work at this fucking lounge,” my dad says. “All you have to do is work there for a little bit, and then my debt will be erased and I’ll never have to see these bastards again. This is the arrangement they offered, and I have no choice but to take it.”
When he loosens his grip on my wrist, I jerk my hand away and sit back. My mom moves to sit next to me. Her cold blue eyes offer me zero comfort, and her rigid body posture makes it clear that a hug is not in my immediate future.
