Page 52 of Untamed Beast
“Courtesy of the club’s latest billionaire patron.” Shecradles the solid gold bottle of Armand de Brignac champagne like a baby.
“What are we celebrating?”
“Hmm. Unexpected friendships.” Vera unwraps the foil and pops the cork with one practiced flick. “And, of course, hot billionaire patrons who give tips running into the six digits.”
She takes a swig straight from the bottle, before passing it to me.
I do the same, the fizz hitting my mouth in a rush. It’s just what I need after a day where even the thought of Leks makes my cheeks feel like they’re burning with fever.
We lie on the couch and pass the bottle back and forth while Vera tells me about this billionaire from Chicago, who was in his fifties but still in good shape.
“Nothing crazy. He just wants a good old-fashioned sugar baby. They don’t make ‘em like that anymore,” she sighs wistfully. “He barely even kissed me.”
I can’t even imagine doing what Vera does. One man is confusing enough for me, let alone having to handle a series of clients and theirinsanedemands. She told me about one man who wanted her to insult him about the size of his penis. Another wanted to touch himself while she blew cigarette smoke in his face. Meanwhile, I can barely even work up the courage to ask Leks to kiss me.
“His name was Tar, isn’t that hot? Head of the Chicago Bratva.”
I gasp with shock, which makes the champagne bubbles rush up my nose.
“Not Taras Romanov?!” I splutter.
I know that name from the serious, dry background work my father made me do to prepare for my next wedding. The Romanovs are similar to my family in their facade of respectability — Taras is a reputable chief executive, known in the business world just as well as he is in the Bratva.
My marriage to his eldest son, Anton, would have been a hit in the society pages of the tabloids. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that even men like Taras have their secrets. His son certainly did.
“He was supposed to be my father-in-law. You know, if?—”
“If Leks hadn’t swooped in to save the day?”
I frown at her misinterpretation of events and take another sip of champagne before she grabs the bottle back. “I didn’t need his help. I would’ve found something to stop that wedding.”
Vera tuts her tongue skeptically. “I don’t know, hon. You’re smart, but Anton Romanov was a tricky one. Leks had me go to the girls at the club to find out if anyone had any dirt, but we hadnothing. And we always have something.”
I make a face. I don’t want to owe Leks anything or feel grateful for what he did. He’s trapped me, just like Anton would have. All because of my last name. Sometimes, I forget that, because his physical presence is so distracting.
“I’m glad I didn’t have to marry Anton. I just wish I hadn’t had to marry, full stop.”
Vera makes an offended face, bringing a hand to her chest. “Take that back! You know, we would never have met if you hadn’t married Leks.”
“I know. I like being out in the real world. I just wish I had normal options in my life.”
“I know Leks can be scary.” Her voice softens. “But in terms of Bratva men, he’s hardly the the worst of the bunch. And based on the way he talks about you…I don’t think he’s capable of hurting a hair on that pretty head.”
“What do you mean?”
Vera relaxes back against the couch and her face spreads into a wicked grin. “I mean that man is so far gone that he’s like a whole different person.”
My face flushes as I remember last night. There is such a contrast between the violent, unpredictable man that Yuri and the men see…and the man whose caress was so delicate it made me shiver. Who stopped the second I got too embarrassed for him to continue.
I blow out a breath and Vera looks at me with curiosity.
“I do think you might be right about him being attracted to me.”
Her face lights up like I’ve just told her she’s won the lottery. I guess, when money is as easy to come by as it seems to be for Vera, gossip is the next best currency.
“Oh, do tell.” She props her head on her hands and flutters her eyelashes at me. She’s so melodramatic sometimes. “What makes you say that?”
I nod my head, scared that I’m about to embarrass myself. Vera might be a friend, but our gossip sessions have proven that she has access to a whole network of whispers within the Bratva.
