Dimitri stands up too and walks around the desk until he's standing directly in front of me. He's taller than I am, and he uses that height to his advantage by moving close enough that I have to tilt my head back to look at him. "Your contract says you work where I tell you to work, and right now, I'm telling you that you work for me personally."
"Why?" I take a step back but he follows, and suddenly, I'm boxed in between him and the chair behind me. "Why would you suddenly decide you need a personal server when you've been fine without one for years?" My eyes search his face while my body starts throwing up alarm bells. God, he's good-looking, even up close.
You know those guys you see from far away and you think how incredibly attractive they are but then up close, you see their wrinkles and warts? Dimitri has zero. A few scars mar his otherwise perfect skin and my God, I think I might cream my panties. The power moving under that shirt as he shifts and his muscles flex—it threatens to make me think very bad things about a man I should be furious with.
"Because I want you close where I can keep an eye on you." His hand comes up and his fingers brush against my cheek in a gesture that's meant to assert his dominance. "And because you're wasting your talents serving drunk idiots when you could be working directly for someone who appreciates what you bring to this establishment."
I grab his wrist and push his hand away from my face, but I can't take a step back. "I won't be your personal anything. I came here to work as a waitress and that's what I'm going to keep doing. Find someone else to play your games with."
Dimitri chuckles a low, warm sound that tugs at my chest. God, I hate myself for being attracted to such a jerk. "You'll get used to it because the pay is too good to turn down. Double what you're making now, plus you'll still get tips from me for good service." When he winks at me, I grit my teeth.
"I don't want your money." Even as I say it, I know it's not entirely true because I desperately need money right now. Between my rent and my cousin's medical bills and helping my mother with groceries, I'm barely scraping by each month. If I knew this asshole would keep his hands to himself, maybe I wouldn't mind the shift. It could really help me. But then, men on the floor grope me all the time too. At least it would only be one of them, and he is super hot.
"Yes, you do." Dimitri walks back around his desk and sits down like this conversation is already over. "You need it more than most people working here, which is why you'll accept this reassignment and you'll start immediately."
I hate that he's right and that he knows exactly how trapped I am by my financial situation. He shouldn’t have that much information about me at all, though in his line of work, it's no wonder he checks out his employees. I want to ask him if it's just me he's been snooping on or if he follows and stalks all his waitresses, but I don't want to be a bitter nag. Still, it creeps me out.
I wonder if he's the one who sent that car? Is that what that was about? Dimitri had me followed to see where I live, not the men who killed that guy in the alley? That thought starts to unravel the tension in my chest slightly.
"What about my section on the floor?" I ask even though I already know I'm going to agree to this. "Who's covering it?"
"Already taken care of." He turns his attention back to his computer screen like I'm dismissed. "Go grab your things from the break room and report back here in fifteen minutes. I'll show you where everything is kept and what your responsibilities will be."
It's so infuriating to have my autonomy captured like a prize and flaunted in front of me. He knows there's no way I can turn this down and he's very glib about it. I want to protest but I can't. He already said I do it or I have no job. And I need this job, so I turn and stomp toward the door, making an angry show of how much I hate his choice for me.
"Tatiana." His voice stops me when my hand's on the doorknob. "This is going to work out better for both of us. You'll see."
I don't respond because anything I say right now will just make things worse. I pull the door open and step into the hallway before letting it close behind me, and it's too late to back out. Apparently, I'm not just being stalked for having witnessed a murder—potentially. Now I'm Dimitri Gravitch's plaything.
At least the money's good.
7
DIMITRI
"So I told him if he wanted to keep both his kneecaps, he'd better start talking faster." Fyodor drains his whiskey, and the ice rattles in his glass as he sets it down. "Turns out, he couldn't talk fast enough when it counted."
Lev laughs and asks, "How many pieces did you have to mail back to his family?"
"Enough to make the point." Fyodor grins and bobs one eyebrow. "Though I kept a few souvenirs for myself."
Vadim shakes his head and leans back in his chair with his own drink balanced on his knee. "You're a sick bastard, you know that?"
"Says the man who killed how many men?" Fyodor raises his glass in a mock toast.
"Seventeen." Vadim lifts his glass to his lips to sip slowly then says, "And I'd do it again tomorrow if I had to."
I watch this exchange from behind my desk while Tatiana moves around the table refilling drinks and offering cigars from thehumidor she's carrying. Her hands shake when she pours and I can see the tension in her shoulders even from across the room. She's too tense. My family notices these things, but for now they're polite enough not to say anything.
But I also can't stop watching the way her skirt moves when she walks or the way she bites her bottom lip when she's concentrating on pouring without spilling. I've wanted her for months and now that I finally have her exactly where I want her, all I can think about is how badly I want to dismiss these men and lock the door behind them.
"Dimitri, are you even listening?" Lev's voice pulls my attention back to the conversation. "Or are you too busy staring at your new server?" Thankfully, he makes the comment quietly as she's walking out of the room.
"I'm listening." I lean forward and rest my elbows on the table. "You were talking about the body count in Serbia, which is fascinating but not why we're here tonight."
Vadim sets his down glass and his expression shifts from amused to serious. "You said you had concerns about the home front. What's going on?"
I slide the folder in front of me across to him and wait for him to open it before I start talking. "Someone was executed in the alley behind the casino two nights ago. The police showed up in the middle of the night."
