Chapter 6

Zakhar's POV

I leaned back in my seat, a glass of whiskey untouched in my hand.

My eyes remained glued to the woman at the bar, drinking like there was no tomorrow, completely forgetting about the meeting I was currently in.

I barely heard a word being said around the table.

What was she doing here, and what the fuck was she wearing?

A light tap on my arm pulled me out of my thoughts.

I turned my head slightly and found Kirill looking at me with an amused expression, a brow raised.

“Are you planning to join us anytime soon?” he asked, his voice low enough that only I could hear him.

“I was paying attention,” I grunted.

The look he gave me told me he didn’t believe me.

I turned back to the two bald men and signaled for them to continue.

The one with the mustache cleared his throat.

“The shipment is expected by Friday. We’ve secured the route, but there’s been a slight change in the delivery point.”

I nodded once, my expression remaining impassive.

“Where?”

“The east side, but—”

His voice faded as my gaze returned to the bar.

The woman had gotten to her feet and staggered toward the dance floor. Some sleazy guy immediately grabbed her waist and started dancing with her.

Something in me snapped.

I got up from my seat and marched toward them, forgetting all about the meeting.

The closer I got, the more clearly I could see her.

She was talking to the fucker, and she looked pissed.

“Get theeeee fuckkkk awayyy fromm mee,” she slurred.

“Now, why would I do that, pretty face?”

Before I could step in, she beat me to it and swung at his face, making him step back. I think I heard a crunch. A little smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth.

“What the fuck? You broke my nose, you bitch,” he said, nursing his already bleeding nose.

He started moving toward her, but I quickly pulled her aside and punched him, making him land on his ass. No one seemed to be paying attention to him.

I turned to face the woman who had made me leave an important meeting.

I took her in, that little black dress that molded to her figure, barely covering her ass. I caught sight of a dagger tattoo peeking from her thigh, along with smoky makeup and wine-colored lipstick I now want wrapped around my d**k.

Snap out.

“Let's go.”

“You have to catch me first.”

And then she staggered away, revealing a dark snake tattoo coiled around an ornate sword down her spine.

An image of me bending her over flashed through my mind.

What the hell was happening? The last thing I needed was to be attracted to someone so much younger than me.

Before I could make sense of it, she suddenly fell with a loud thud.

“Shit.”

I rushed over and offered a hand, but she ignored it, getting up with a groan. The moment she stood, she staggered again.

“Let me help you. You clearly can't walk properly.”

“Who says I can't? I didn't realize I had a babysitter.”

Glad to see the alcohol didn't take that attitude of hers away.

“Let's go,” I repeated firmly.

“Awn, daddy cares about me.”

That word coming from her lips sent a jolt of pleasure to my c**k.

Before she could continue her argument, I lifted her and carried her over my shoulder.

“Put me down, right now!” she screamed, but the loud music drowned out her voice.

I carried her away from the dance floor, ignoring her complaints, and headed to the bar.

“Is this her purse?” I asked Joseph, the bartender.

“Oh, it's you, sir. Y-yes, it's hers.”

“Put me down!”

“No.”

“Put me down.”

I spanked her ass.

“Did you just spank me, you perverrrt?”

I spanked her again. That seemed to do the trick because she finally shut up.

The moment we stepped outside, the noise of the club faded behind us.

Cool night air hit my face.

She lifted her head slightly. “Just so you know, if you're planning on kidnapping me, I'll kick your ass.”

I ignored her, walking up towards the spot I'd parked my car.

I tossed her into the back seat and slammed the door shut.

As I headed for the driver's side, a blonde-haired girl in a sparkly blue dress approached me.

“Hi, sorry, I just saw you carrying my coworker out. Um… is she still with you?” she asked, desperately avoiding my eyes.

Before I could answer, banging came from the back window. I turned and saw the sharp-mouthed woman pounding against it.

“Heeey! Lemme ouuut!”

The blonde moved past me and rushed to my window.

“Oh my god, Maya. Are you all right?”

Hmm. Maya. So that's the name of this drunk menace.

“Nooo… that fucking cavemaaaan won’t let me ouuut. But he is my daddyyy.”

The blonde's eyes widened in shock, while I simply ignored her.

She looked at me, then at Maya, then back at me again.

“Uh, so… you two already know each other. Um... I'll leave you guys to it,” she said awkwardly before walking away.

I watched her leave, then got into the driver's seat and pulled away.

A few seconds later a familiar, drunken voice came from the back seat.

“Daddyyyyy.”

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.

This woman was going to be the death of me.

“DADDYYYYY!”

“What?” I replied, keeping my eyes on the road.

“I'm bored.”

“Sleep.”

“You're annoying.”

“And you're drunk.”

She frowned. "I don't like you."

"The feeling is mutual.”

I saw her blow a raspberry at me through the rearview mirror.

“Do you know where you live?”

“On top of the fucking moon!”

She was clearly too drunk to know her way home.

I sighed as she leaned forward, sniffing me like a damn dog.

“Mmm… you smell niiice. Like… someone who takes control of the bed.”

I let out an amused smirk. “Have you ever had a guy who takes control?”

“Nahhh… I don't liiiike those kinda guyssss. I prefeeerrr takingggg controoo… plus, I've never had sex, talk less of a boyfriendddd, I don't have timeeee for thattt. So guess we'll never knowww.”

“So, in short, you are a virgin?”

“YESSSSSS, LOUD AND PROUDDD!” She giggled.

“What were you doing in the club?” I asked.

“I went out with someone.”

“The girl in the sparkly dress?”

“Yessssssssss, Sophieeeeeee. She's a sweet girlllllll, too sweet and trustingggg, but needsssss newwwww friendssssss, thoseeee onessss suuckkkk.” She slurred, then huffed. “What were you doing there too?”

“I own it,” I said.

“Ouuuuuuuuuuu, so you’re rich rich?”

“Yes.”

“What do you do?”

“Business.”

“What kind of businesssss.”

“None of your business.”

“What—”

“Get up,” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt.

I walked around to the back, where she sat staring at me suspiciously.

“Where are we?”

“Get up,” I repeated.

“I'm not gonna."

I took a long breath in and out, constantly reminding myself not to strangle her. Then I lifted her and carried her over my shoulder again.

“Let me goooo!” she screamed, wriggling against my grip.

Eventually she stopped.

“This place is huuuge,” she said, staring at the mansion

I glanced at the mansion in front of us.

“Is ittt yoursss?”

“Yes.”

“Can I run around?”

“No.”

“Can I scream?”

“No.”

“Can I touch things?”

“No.”

She gasped dramatically.

“You're no fun.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled.

I stepped inside, expecting everyone to be asleep.

Suddenly, the lights snapped on, and my hand went to the gun tucked into my waistband.

“HAPPY BIRTH—”

I froze as several pairs of eyes stared at us. Mum and Dad gaped at the woman over my shoulder.

For a moment, no one spoke.

“Hellooo… I thought this was a surprise party. Why is everyone so quiet? Uh, who's that?” Ilya asked.

“Shut it.” I said, putting my gun away.

“Hey, what's going on? Let me see,” Maya demanded.

Thank God she hadn't seen what just happened.

“Why is my big, brooding brother carrying a stranger like a sack of potatoes?” Ilya asked.

“Zakhar, what's going on, and who is she?” Mum asked softly.

“Finallyyyy I know yourrrr name. Okaaayyy, Zakhar… talk dirty to me.” Maya rumbled, testing out my name, rolling it off her tongue. Her Italian accent made my name sound like a dirty prayer coming out of her mouth, even when she's drunk.

Ilya snorted, quickly covering it with a cough when I glared at him.

“Who's thatttttt? I wanna seeeee!” Maya demanded.

“So, are we cutting the cake or not?” my youngest sister, Yulia, asked, eyeing the vanilla cake.

“Cake? I wannt cakeee! Oh my god! Whose birthdddayyy isss ittt?”

“Zakhar's,” Ilya replied.

“OH MY GODDD! Youuu didn'ttt tell me it was yourrrr birthdayyyy.”

She started singing ‘Happy Birthday’ off-key, with Ilya joining halfway through. Yulia stayed focused on the cake while Mum chuckled and Dad smirked.

“How old are you noww?” Maya asked.

“He's thirty-one,” Ilya quipped.

“I knewww you were oolddd, butttt sheeshhh!”

“Ha,” Ilya laughed.

“Don't worry, grandpaaaa. You'reeee still insanelyyyyy hot,” she said, patting my back like I was a dog.

Zachem ya pomog etoy devushke?

Translation: Why did I help this girl?

I sighed and headed upstairs, ignoring the three pairs of eyes burning into my back.

“Byeeeeeeeee!” Maya shouted, waving at my family.

I'm seriously regretting bringing her here.

In the guest room, I set her down on the bed.

She giggled, looking far too pleased with herself.

“Sleep.”

“Nope. Youu have tooo kiiiss mee gooddd nighttt.”

“Chto, blyat, s ney ne tak?”

Translation: What the fuck is wrong with her?

“Ouuu, I loveee that languageee. Whatttt isss ittt?”

“Sleep.”

“Ifff youuu kiss mee annnd tell me the lannnguagee, thenn I will.”

“I'll leave.”

“Then I'll screammmm,” she said, with a challenging smirk.

We stared at each other until I stepped closer and kissed her forehead.

“It's Russian.”

“I luvvvvv itttt.”

“Sleep now.”

“But I don't feelll sleepyyy,” she pouted, yawning.

“Maya,” I warned.

She giggled sleepily before passing out.

I slipped off her shoes and tucked her in before brushing a few loose strands of hair away from her face. A tiny crescent moon tattoo behind her ear caught my attention.

I paused, my eyes fixed on the small inked crescent.

It was simple, almost delicate, the complete opposite of the woman I had encountered.

She shifted in her sleep, mumbling something I couldn't make out.

I straightened, pushing the blanket higher.

So much for a peaceful night.

Who exactly are you, Maya?

I stared at her for a moment before turning away and walking toward the door, closing the door behind me.