The Agreement (Darkest Lies Trilogy Book 1) Bethany-Kris (best fiction novels of all time .TXT) 📖

Not here.

Maybe when he finally had some money coming in and had something to show for himself—maybe then he’d be able to test Maxim’s limits if life was as boring as it currently happened to be. Until then, just like Josef said, the only way to get through this was by keeping his head down. Which meant he needed to stay clean.

“Where are you going?”

Josef’s clipped and worried voice hit his back as Roman left the counter, and headed away. He didn’t want to be stuck in the VIP section all night, mainly because he didn’t want to stare at the faces of the Yazov crew the whole time. Besides, he liked the look of the pussycats in the cage up on the stage.

He decided not to respond to Josef, knowing he would be followed anyway.

At the edge of the stage, Roman stood staring up at the girls who were dancing and swinging their bodies in the most delicious way. He was already reaching for his wallet, fishing crisp bills out to stick in their thongs when they came near enough for it.

Hey.

Talent deserved to be rewarded.

“The boss had a message for me to give to you, by the way,” Josef said as he came up behind Roman.

“And when were you going to tell me about it?”

“I’m telling you now.”

Roman should have probably been paying a little more attention to what Josef had to say, but one of the costumed girls had crawled over to the edge of the cage. She was on all fours, purring like a cat, and staring with her piercing, painted cat eyes directly at him.

He was distracted.

But goddamn.

It was a good distraction to have.

“He wants you to go see him by the end of this month—before tribute,” Josef continued.

“Why?”

Roman slipped a fifty dollar bill out of his wallet, and waved it in front of his face as his tongue flicked out to touch the top of his teeth. The girl sat up on her knees and then turned, displaying her long, curling tail. Underneath the tail, she was in a thong which he barely noticed. All he had eyes for was her plump ass which she offered to him by thrusting it up for him to admire.

Roman stretched out his arm, tucking the bill into the strap of her thong. When she shook her ass, the tail swished, and she winked over her shoulder in gratitude. His mind wandered to the thought of pinning her to the bars of the cage, fucking her right there in front of everyone to watch.

Yeah.

He wasn’t even a fan of strippers. Certainly not for anything more than their chosen job. He didn’t get off on the idea of people watching the woman he was fucking as much as he just needed to get his dick wet. It had been too long.

“He’s the boss,” Josef said, making Roman’s irritation notch higher simply by hearing the man’s voice alone. Couldn’t he just watch a chick shake her ass so at least he had a vision to jack off to in the shower later? Fuck. Unfortunately, Josef continued on. “He makes the rules. I don’t ask questions. He wants to see you, and you have to go.”

Fuck Josef.

Fuck the entire conversation.

Roman looked over at the bull, hoping the man would see the warning in his eyes. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll go.”

“You’re not listening to me. You need to have something to show when you meet him. Do you understand? If you’ve not made any money here this month, you better have something else to show instead.”

Roman emptied the remainder of the vodka down his throat, relishing the way it spread a warmth in the pit of his stomach. “Or fucking what?”

At first, it seemed that Josef was going to just stay silent, but he really didn’t seem like the type to play the mysterious angle. Straight to the point was more his style. It was one of the few things he did like about the man. He proved Roman right when he stared hard at him, and said frankly, “The last time a guy showed up empty-handed when the boss was expecting something—he left without his right hand.”

Roman clenched his jaw until his molars ached. “And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“The boss had it cut off—made him bring it to the following meetings just because, no? Fucking thing even started to stink. It means, you arrogant little shit, that you should be thankful you still have two hands to hold your cash in. Mind your manners, and you still will at the end of the month, too.”

Well, then.

Fair enough.

SIX

Karine Yazov’s eyelids fluttered, her body’s way of threatening to pull her from sleep, but she refused to open them yet. A silly part of her had always believed that if she just kept her eyes shut, pretended that she hadn’t woken, then she would quickly fall back asleep. It never worked—she also didn't stop trying.

It was only the warmth of the sunlight on her face that made her decide maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to wake up. The brightness shining in through one of her bedroom windows kept her from turning her face directly into the light, but that was okay, too. With her eyelids still shut tight, she kept her dreams to herself.

Somehow, she’d managed to convince herself that if she didn’t open her eyes, then those wonderful dreams she was seeing wouldn't leave. She would then belong to that world where she had both hands grazing the thick, sturdy trunk of a tree as she swung around it.

But it was good there.

In the dream.

Warm, soft moss at her feet. Shrill, but sweet, laughter curling into a summer day.

There was another girl there—a kid, actually. She had the same chestnut hair as Karine, long, pin-straight, and brushed neatly to spread around her shoulders. The little girl continued to watch her in silence while Karine swung and swung around the tree