Page 23 of The Pakhans’ Curvy Prize

"What do you mean, intense?"

Sharon leans forward, her eyes bright with the excitement of good gossip. "Okay, so I'm walking down the hallway, right? And I hear voices coming from the office. I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, I swear, but the door was partially open and voices carry. I heard two of the other bartenders talking in low voices. They sounded worried."

"Worried about what?"

"That's the thing," Sharon says, gesturing with her chopsticks. "I only caught part of it before they noticed me and shut up real quick. But I definitely heard one of them say something about 'the three owners' disagreeing about something important. And the other guy was saying they needed to be careful because when the bosses are fighting, everyone suffers."

The food in my mouth suddenly tastes like cardboard. "The three owners?"

Sharon nods. "I didn't think much of it at first, but then after they saw me and stopped talking, I started putting pieces together. Marla, I think Russ, Alex, and Nick might own the Ivory Wolf. Like, together. As business partners or something."

Which means they're not just three random rich guys who happen to know each other.

They're business partners and work together.

They probably see each other regularly, make decisions together, and run their business together.

And I slept with all three of them.

"Marla?" Sharon's voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. "You okay? You look like you're going to be sick."

I set down my chopsticks, my appetite completely gone. "They own the club," I say quietly.

Sharon's eyes widen as the full implications sink in.

I drop my head into my hands. "Oh shit."

8

RUSS

I spend most of Saturday irritated with myself, which is a fucking problem because I'm supposed to be focused on business, not on some redhead who's managed to get under my skin in the span of a single night.

The situation should have ended the second I realized Alex and Nick had both slept with her too.

That should have been it. Done. Over. Move on to the next woman and forget about Marla entirely.

Except I can't.

I'm sitting in my office at the warehouse, listening to one of my captains drone on about shipment schedules and distribution routes, and all I can think about is the way Marla looked at me that night at her cottage.

The way she trembled when I touched her, and the gasps of pleasure I'd wrung from her. The way she'd been so fucking responsive and genuine in her reactions.

"Boss?" The captain's voice cuts through my thoughts, and I realize he's been waiting for an answer to a question I didn't hear.

"What?" I snap, harsher than I meant.

He shifts uncomfortably, exchanging a glance with another captain who's standing near the door. "I asked if you wanted us to move the shipment to the secondary location or keep it at the primary warehouse."

I run a hand through my hair, forcing myself to focus. This is important.

This is the kind of decision that can't be made carelessly, not with the merger negotiations still ongoing.

"Secondary location," I say after a moment. "We're spreading things too thin at the primary warehouse, and I don't want everything in one place if something goes wrong."

He nods, making a note. "Got it. Anything else?"

"No." I wave my hand dismissively. "You can leave."