Page 19 of Baby for the Bratva King

“He’s not hard to crack. Rough on the outside, but nice and gooey when you break through the surface.”

I step away from the shadows, grabbing Saskia. “Stop with the jokes.”

“You see my face?” She points at her pouting red lips. “I’m not laughing this time.”

“You guys have history?”

“He wishes.”

I grind my jaw, hoping she stays quiet about being my maid, about our agreement. The last thing I need on top of this mess is the world knowing she works for me.

Breaking news: Felix Pozharsky sleeps with his twenty-two-year-old maid.

Things may be heading in that direction after the fucking scene I caused.

Anger drove me over there the second I realized that flexible little brunette was my maid. She never told me she was a stripper.

All things considered, she is a good dancer. She moves like flowing water, like she has no fear.

“Sharing is caring,” says the dancer, winking at Saskia.

Saskia flashes her a quick smile and bursts through the silk curtain, heading away.

I stay behind the curtain, watching her go. For now, the crowds have simmered back down, but I know the chaos will begin the second I step back out in public.

What the fuck have I done?

The curtain snags, revealing a very pissed off Gabriel. And he’s brought two of my council members as backup.

Triple trouble.

“Congratulations on finding love.”

“For the last fucking time, I’m not⁠—”

“You fed the press well tonight. Give it an hour, and there’ll be conspiracies all over the internet. The big bad Felix Pozharsky is in love with a stripper,” says Gabriel. “Who is half his age.”

“Let them talk.”

“Thousands of women are going to wake up heartbroken tomorrow morning.”

“Good. Parasocial relationships are not healthy.” I push past my men, calling it a night. “See you later, gents, and Ziven—perhaps you should stop drinking rum if you want to lose weight. It’s heavy on the gut.” I eye him up and down, taking my leave.

I enter the main room, people turning my way, like sunflowers in the sun. I’m the brightest thing in people’s lives, but I wish I wasn’t.

I’m hardly someone to look up to. I own luxury hotels across the globe, but I also own a Tokarev TT-33. I can fire a small-grain bullet at speeds of up to over a thousand feet per second, which means my victim is dead before they even see the bullet sailing their way.

That is my favorite toy. A close second might be my pretty little maid. Today isn’t a total loss. At least my Honeysuckle is still working for me.

Saskia assumes she was fired. That’s better than her running away from me on her own terms.

But she was playing with fire earlier, changing the terms of our agreement. Dental? Private healthcare? She knew I wasn’t going to turn her down and say no.

I cross the floor, dancers pausing their routines as I walk past. Some look pensive, intrigued, like I pleasantly surprised them earlier. Others are less impressed. I interrupted Saskia while she was dancing, and that might be more disrespectful than audience members telling girls to get their pussy out.

I’ll strangle that patron if I see him again. The fucking audacity.

Saskia is mine.