Paying The Bratva’s Debt Cole, Jagger (the best books to read txt) 📖

or scandalous. But it’s all things that would get some wolfish looks in an office.

I get the feeling that it’s no accident, either.

When I’m dressed and feeling professional, I finally start to go through the legal documents stacked in the bedroom. There’s no workspace though, so I end up dragging the vanity out of the closet, inch by inch across the floor, and using that as a desk.

The documents seem to be about some kind of land deal. There’s an old factory and some scrapyard space in Southside, and it looks like Viktor is trying to buy it off the current owner—some really fake looking LLC. I almost want to chase after Nina and ask what exactly I should be preparing for. But I’m pretty confident helping me is the last thing on her to-do list, ever.

So instead, I just start reading and get to work. I actually specialized in zoning law and land use in law school, so everything I’m looking at makes sense, at least. Without knowing the details or what the deal is, it’s a little like shooting in the dark. But I do end up pulling out a lot of documents I think I might need.

I’m so engrossed in the work that I don’t even look at the time until Nina marches right in without knocking.

“Time’s up,” she says flatly. “Ready?”

I kind of want to ask her if it matters, or if she cares. I’d also like to ask her why she’s got a chip on her shoulder when it comes to me.

“I… yes. I think.”

“Yes, or you think?”

“If I need more time, am I going to get it?”

She smiles. “No.”

“Well, then I’m ready.”

“Wonderful. Mr. Komarov and Mr. Nychkov are waiting downstairs. Bring what you need, and let’s go.”

I collect the stack of important documents I’ve pulled out, slip a pair of heels on, and follow Nina through the huge mansion. With it being daytime now, I can see out the windows as we pass. My jaw drops at the lavish, impeccably manicured lawns, gardens, hedges, and roses surrounding Viktor’s elegant home.

Down the curved staircase in the massive entryway, Viktor and the stoic looking guy who seems to be his number two are waiting for me. Viktor’s eyes find mine when I’m halfway down the stairs, and they’re sizzling into me. His jaw grinds, and I tremble. I blush, faltering slightly on the stairs as I remember the kiss. My eyes fall to his lips before I can quickly pull them back up. But he knows. He sees where my eyes have gone, and he knows. He smiles smugly at me as my face burns hotly.

“Fiona,” he growls, making me tremble again. “This is Lev, my second in command. Lev, this is Ms. Murray.”

“Good morning,” Lev grunts. He gives me a quick, skeptical look before he turns and heads outside. Nina wordlessly turns to march away, leaving Viktor and I alone.

My heart races, and all I can think about is the kiss—how his lips tasted, and the thrill of him demanding it from me like he did. I remember what happened later, too. After he left, when I couldn’t stop the desire burning inside of me and did what I did. All while picturing of him, I think as my face burns even hotter.

“Are you ready?” Viktor growls.

“I—” I swallow. “Yes.”

He looks amused by my quick answer. But he nods. “Sleep well last night?”

My mind instantly replays the kiss, again. And then the way I touched myself—the way I came while imaging his face and those perfect lips on my skin.

“Uh-huh,” I mumble quickly.

He grins at me, and my face darkens. God, it almost feels like he’s looking into my thoughts, and knows exactly what I did last night while imagining him. My blush deepens as my heart races like crazy.

“Well then. Let’s go.”

I stare up at the sign above the body-shop we’ve just parked in front of.

“Drucci?” I say quietly. The sign above the west side auto shop reads “Drucci Customizations and Autobody.” It looks innocuous enough. But you’d have to be living under a freaking rock to not know the Drucci name in this town. Specially, Joey Drucci Senior.

If Viktor is the suave, handsome, sexy face of organized crime in Chicago, Joey is the other side of the coin. Viktor obviously gets away with all sorts of things, since he’s so careful to distance himself from anything legally. Joey avoids prison through open threats and violence. Two years ago, he was all over the news after they finally pinned a quadruple homicide, including a cop, on him.

The case was a slam dunk apparently, too. That is, until members of the jury started not showing up to court. Then the ballistics expert was in a car crash and died on impact after flipping over a highway divider. Then the lead prosecutor’s wife was mugged coming home from work. When the judge herself woke up to a bullet in her front door, the whole thing was called as a mistrial. By the time a new trial could be set up, every star witness was missing or dead, and most of the evidence had disappeared from custody. So the case against Joey Drucci disappeared.

“As in…”

“As in Joey Drucci, yes,” Viktor grunts. He glances at Lev, and then back at the three big men in black suits who’ve arrived in the car behind us. Something tells me I’m not the only one thinking about how dangerous any idea it is to sit down with that maniac.

“You’ve looked over the documents?”

I nod. “As much as I could. I didn’t have much time to prepare.”

“But you understand the gist?”

“He owns a building, and you want to buy it.”

Viktor smirks thinly. “At its barest, yes. Except Joey is dragging his heels. And even if he finally agrees to terms, there’s a mountain of bureaucratic tape around the property.”

“Yeah, because it’s a dump,” I mutter.

Viktor grins for a second before his face hardens as usual. “Perhaps. But I want that