“Traffic my ass.” Matvey snorts. “You ride a Ducati.”
Dem glances at the backseat. “Word is you were doing a very thorough employee interview with a certain smoke show you hired.”
This was inevitable. The second I called Evelina upstairs, I knew they’d needle me about it.
“Good to know Oksana reports to you. And for the record, fuck off, both of you. We have bigger worries right now.”
Matvey raises his eyebrows, enjoying himself. “Must have been some audition. Never seen you personally vet talent before.”
“I gave her a job as a server. She needed work. End of story.”
Dem’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wasn’t she applying to be a stripper? That was the whole point of her grabbing you by the dick and dragging you upstairs.”
“She wasn’t good enough to dance.” Lie. She could’ve set that stage on fire. “She can serve drinks or find work somewhere else. Makes no difference to me.”
Except it does make a difference. The thought of her stripping for other men, grinding on their laps the way she did on mine, makes something territorial and violent twist in my gut.
“You’re full of shit,” Dem says flatly. “You don’t hire out of charity.”
“Can we focus on why we’re here, or are you two planning to spend the rest of the night busting my balls?”
I crack my neck, irritation coursing through me. As much as I want to deny it, they know this isn’t normal behavior for me. Evelina has gotten under my skin, and they can smell it like blood in the water.
“How much longer is this mudak going to be?” Dem flicks open a switchblade and starts cleaning under his nails. “We should walk into his club and drag him out by his throat.”
“No. This is better,” I point out. “We catch him alone, away from his crew. We can use the element of surprise.”
Elio Valenti thinks he’s untouchable. Tonight we’re going to teach him otherwise.
“Eyes up,” Dem says, straightening in his seat.
The rear door of Apollon swings open and Elio steps into the alley. He’s tall, built like he spends serious time in the gym. Dark hair swept back, stubble shadowing his jaw, black ink crawling up his throat and disappearing under his collar.
Two women hang off him. A brunette in a dress barely holding itself together, and a blonde on his other side.
“About fucking time,” Matvey mutters.
“He’s mine,” I warn my brothers. “Don’t step in unless there’s a gun to my head.”
With that, I throw open my door, my boots hitting pavement. My brothers fan out behind me, cutting off any escape route.
The women notice us first. The brunette’s giggle cuts off mid-laugh, her face going pale. The blonde freezes, eyes wide.
Elio clocks us and his hand drifts toward his waistband, but I shake my head.
“No need to make a scene. This is a social call, nothing more.”
His gaze shifts to my brothers, then back to me. “This doesn’t look like a social call.”
“Elio?” The blonde’s voice shakes.
He doesn’t look at them. His focus stays on me. “Go back inside.”
When they hesitate, Matvey makes a shooing motion and they scramble. Guess we ruined his chances of getting laid tonight. Shame.
Elio shrugs, loosening his shoulders. “So what is this? You here to talk wedding venues? Because I have to tell you, I was thinking Katya and I would go to Vegas. Get it over with quick so we can at least get to the good part. I admit, it’s been a long time since I fucked a virg?—“
I close the distance, swinging at his smug face. He blocks it with his forearm, the impact jarring up to my shoulder, then pivots and drives his fist toward my ribs.
