Eventually, I found another skimpily dressed girlwhoguided me towards the kitchen. She introduced meto a youngman preparing drinks with a small scar underneath his eye.
“What drinks do they want?” Darioasked, his large lips tugged into a deep frown.
“Three whiskeys,” I shrugged.
“What kind?”
“No idea. Also, could you give me a shot of something so I can make it through this evening?” I needed something to calm me down.I could handle the collateral damage, butnone of thesewomenwho were just doing their job deserved to deal with the consequences of my actions.
Darioshook his head and handed me three glasses of whiskey in crystal tumblers.
“And my drink?” I asked, trying to keep the edge out of my voice.
Herolled his eyes, and I smiled. That smile dropped when he pulled out a bottle ofcheap vodka. Great, I was surrounded by the best liquor money could buy, but they cheaped out for the hired help.
Dariopoured methe shot. SinceI had a feeling he wasn’t going to add a mixer,Igrabbed the shot glass and pouredthe contentsdown my throat. The taste of rubbing alcohol reminded me of when I wasa sophomoreand Piper and Ipaid some random guy100bucks to buy us a bottle of vodka to pregame with. After that experience, whenever Ihadenough free time to see her, westartedsnatching the liquor from her parent’s wine cellar.
I coughed and slammed the glass down.“Another, please.”
He poured a single shot into the glass, his dark eyebrows slightly raised. I knew fromhisslightly judgmental look that this was a bad idea. But I was wound up so tightly, I needed something to take the edge off. And getting drunk seemed like a better idea than getting into another argument with Luca’s men.
After I coughed down the shot, I grabbed the three glasses of whiskey and headed back to thepool room. I handed thementheir drinks, and they silently received them with an assessing look. Thegreaseballstill wasn’t back with Anya, and I wandered into the hallway to find hopefully less obnoxious men to serve drinks to.
A painedwailsounded from a nearby doorway. My entire body tensed as I crept towards the door and pressed my ear against the oak wood.
“Please, stop.”It was a familiar Russian voice.
Anya. My heart leaped into my throat.
“You stupid bitch. It’s your fault I couldn’t get hard,” a male voice said.
The sound of bone crunching echoed, and I heard another high-pitched yelp.
Without even thinking, I yanked the door open and stepped inside.
Chapter 46
Anya was lying on the floor, her arms curled up around her ribs. Her eyeliner was streaking down her cheeks.
“Don’t fucking touch her,” I growled.
Thegreaseballspun towards me, rageflashingin his eyes.“Get the fuck out, before I fuck you up too.”
My fist clenched. This was my fault. If I could’ve kept my mouth shut earlier, he wouldn’t be taking his anger out on her. I needed to make it stop.
With ahowl, I ran forward and decked him in the face. His head snapped back against the wall. Before I could strike again, his eyes narrowed and he shoved me. From a combination of alcohol and the narrow high heels I lost my balance and fell backwards. My back hit the soft bed, and the man sprang on top of me.
“Now, you’re going to make it up to me,”he said, the liquor on his breath burning into my nostrils.
“Sounds like a waste of time. Your whiskey dick can’t even get hard,” I said.
He slapped me across the face. He couldn’t get hard,oreven hit hard. And on top of that, he attacked women like Anya who couldn’t fight back.
I swung my knee up between his legs. With a groan he fell off the bed clutching at his crotch. I jumped up and swung my right foot into his temple. He tried to grab at my high heel, but I swung my leg back further and connectedwith his headagain.
Heslumped down, his eyes closed. I kneeled down and placed a finger against his pulse.
“Still alive,” I announced to a stunned Anya.
