Russian Mafia Boss's Heir (2 page)

She didn’t want to be affected by him. She wanted to hate him. He wasn’t her choice. Instead, her body was choosing without her consent. There was something so basely sexual about the man. His presence made her head spin. He smelled of sandalwood and power. It was as if some bizarre primal force drew her to him.

She turned and pressed her forehead to the wall to try and get herself under control. She closed her eyes, but she could still see him in her mind’s eye. That lean, six-foot frame was packed with lean muscle. Each slab was carefully etched as though a master sculptor had fashioned Mikhail from the finest marble.

His eyes were so dark. Sometimes when she gazed at him she wondered if she would see Hell in their black depths. His brown hair was the color of warm honey. It fell across his forehead in a deceptively boyish fashion. She’d often wondered why he kept it longer than fashion dictated. Of course, Mikhail didn’t seem to particularly care about fashion or looks, or anything else really.

“Cold,” she whispered. “He’s so very cold. If I remember that, I’ll keep my head.”

Tori pushed away from the wall and stalked upstairs. So her stepfather wanted her to pack her things like a good girl and get ready to move in with her new husband?
Like hell!
Girls getting married had bachelorette parties, right? So why should Tori be denied the chance to let loose just because she was marrying for power and not love?

Her steps grew faster and faster until she was practically sprinting toward her bedroom. She flew through the doorway and slammed the door shut behind her. The closet was her goal. Not to pack, but to find the perfect dress to have one last naughty night on the town in.

It didn’t take long to dig out the little pink number she was thinking of. It had a short, sassy skirt that barely hit her mid thigh. The sides were cut out, the back was shockingly low cut, and the neckline dipped so close to her cleavage that wearing a bra was impossible.

Tori stripped out of her clothing and pulled the dress over her head. It settled around her bottom like an old friend ready to party. She shoved her feet into her favorite high-heeled silver sandals and pulled out her phone. One quick group text, and she knew she wouldn’t be alone at the club. Tonight, she didn’t want to be alone. She just wanted to forget.

Staring into the mirror, she freshened her makeup and added some smoky silver eye shadow. She ran a quick comb through her long hair and tried to decide what to do with it. Finally opting to leave it down, she turned and headed out onto her balcony. She’d been sneaking out this way for more than a decade. One might think her father’s men would have figured it out by now.

***

“MISS VASILIEV JUST left via her balcony.”

Mikhail gave a slow nod to indicate he’d heard the guard’s murmured warning, but gave no other external sign that he cared about Miss Vasiliev’s actions one way or the other. It would do him no good to rant and rail at the man. Tori had been sneaking out for ages. If there had ever been an attempt to quash the behavior, he’d never heard of any tactics that had worked.

On the other side of the desk, Stanislas cursed. Mikhail raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like the older man to show any outward reaction to Tori’s behavior, either. Mikhail wondered what had changed.

“I’m certain Tori is simply blowing off some steam. You know she likes to dance to work off stress,” Mikhail said with an intentional air of nonchalance.

Stanislas waited for the study door to close. Once the guard had left them alone, Stanislas glowered. “I want this wild behavior to end. It is time for her to settle down to her duties and stop acting like a child.”

“She’s not acting like a child,” Mikhail argued quietly. “She’s making choices like any adult would.”

Stanislas pointed one narrow finger at him. “You had better not make the mistake of allowing her to bully you into getting her own way! Her mother was exactly the same. It took a firm hand to bring her to heel.”

“Bring her to heel?” Mikhail frowned. “She is not a dog.”

“Perhaps not,” Stanislas sighed. He rubbed his hands down his face. “But her reckless behavior is going to create so much trouble for us with the council. If I cannot control my daughter, how can I be trusted to continue running my syndicate?”

“If the council is looking to point fingers at bad parenting, I would think the Orlovs have much more to answer for than you do.” Mikhail gave a snort as he recalled the latest bit of gossip about Stanislas’s deceased wife’s family. “Rumor has it that the old man’s eldest son and heir has been caught molesting the daughters of two of his enforcers.”

“Disgusting,” Stanislas spat. “What sort of man preys upon children that way?”

“He is your dead wife’s nephew,” Mikhail pointed out. “Perhaps we chose wisely when we backed out of that deal to sell them a percentage of the resort. I don’t know about you, but I don’t care to be in business with a family run by a pedophile.”

Stanislas didn’t have to speak to convey his disgust. The man could pull a face like nobody else that Mikhail knew. No matter that Stanislas could be crotchety and stuck in the old ways, Mikhail respected his tenacity and his integrity.

“Mikhail,” Stanislas said slowly. “Go and fetch Tori back to the house. I want this ridiculous behavior to come to a stop.”

Mikhail sighed. “Yes, Boss. As you say.”

***

“WAIT!” JAMIE SHOUTED. “Your stepfather is
forcing
you to marry this Mikhail guy?”

Tori slammed back another shot of vodka. “Yes!”

“What is this? The plot of some silly novel set in the Regency era? Come on!” Jamie moaned. “He can’t do this, Tor! It’s not even legal. Nobody can make you marry against your will. You have rights. Just tell the old fart no and be done with it. What’s he going to do?” She waggled her eyebrows and then slammed back her own shot.

Mara was a little more circumspect. “Hold on, Jamie, what if Tori’s stepfather cuts her off? Do you have any idea how badly it would suck to be out here with no job, no place to live, and no money?”

Tori scoffed, feeling far more confident than she had a right to. “I could always run back to my mother’s family. They would take me in. And they’ve got no love for my stepfather, either. In fact, I bet they’d love to help me out!” She wondered if she was just letting the alcohol she’d drunk do the talking, or if this was really a viable solution to her situation.

Mara didn’t look convinced. “It’s not like their family is any different from your stepfather’s, Tori.” She glanced left and then right as if she were about to say something super secretive. “They’re all in the mob, right?”

Tori couldn’t stop the laugh that welled up. Her friends had been completely uncertain what to think when she’d first divulged to them that her family’s business was the
mafiya
. It wasn’t exactly something you told everyone. But Mara and Jamie were different. They were Tori’s BFF’s.

“That has nothing to do with this,” Tori insisted. “My stepfather is trying to get me to marry Mikhail because he thinks it will keep me safe. He doesn’t want someone else to wind up running our family business and cut me out just because I’m not his natural kid.”

“Oh, that’s sort of sweet!” Mara mused. She wasn’t much of a drinker. She was nursing a margarita while sitting at the bar. “He’s looking out for you, Tor.”

“Yeah, as long as she looks out for him and makes this Mikhail dude legit.” Jamie’s tone was snide, maybe even a little derisive.

“What’s he like?” Mara suddenly wanted to know. “Do you even know him? Have you guys hung out? Did you date at all?”

“Nope. Nada. Zilch,” Tori said irritably. “And I think that’s what pisses me off. My stepfather could have asked about that, or tried to give us time to get to know each other. But not him. He just announces yesterday that I’m going to get married to Mikhail tomorrow.”

“That is so
wrong
!” Jamie shouted.

Tori burst into laughter. “Let’s dance! I’m tired of talking about this.” She slammed her empty shot glass down on the bar top and grabbed Mara and Jamie’s hands. “Come on. Let’s go forget Mikhail!”

***

MIKHAIL HATED CLUBS. He hated people and crowds, loud music, and pretty much everything about the sweaty, strobe light-infested cesspools that his future bride seemed to thrive on. From the beginning, Stanislas had tried to convince Mikhail that once he forbade Tori to go clubbing, the entire issue would no longer be anything but a bad memory. The problem was, Mikhail didn’t actually mind that Tori liked to go out with her friends. As long as she kept her companions female and refrained from inappropriate touching with members of the opposite sex on the dance floor, Mikhail was content to let her have her fun.

Stanislas firmly believed that view would weaken Mikhail’s position in the eyes of his wife. Mikhail wasn’t certain he believed the old man, but for the moment he wasn’t in a place where he could argue about it. That left him here at a hated club on a Friday night plowing through a crowd of sweating, half drunken revelers in search of Tori.

“I see them.” One of Mikhail’s men, Dimitri, pointed to a knot of girls dancing and laughing in the center of the throng.

Mikhail turned and gave Dimitri a long, assessing look. “You spotted them awfully quickly. Why do I get the feeling you were looking for someone you considered a little more important than Tori?”

Dimitri looked embarrassed. “She’s with Mara and Jamie, sir. They’re very familiar to me.”

“
They
are?” Mikhail said, wondering whether or not this development would help or hinder. “Or were you thinking mostly of Mara?”

“Perhaps.”

“Be careful,” Mikhail warned. “Miss Vasiliev may not appreciate you crushing on her friend.”

“I’m not—” But the man stopped before he even bothered to finish his own sentence.  “—as you say, sir.”

Mikhail watched his future wife twirl on her toes. The skirt of her pink dress swished enticingly around her thighs. She flung back her head, and her dark hair cascaded down her back. It was obvious she was having a good time. There was a sparkle in her eyes that had been noticeably lacking earlier.

“Sir?” Dimitri said in his ear. “Aren’t we going to retrieve the women—er, woman?”

“No.”

“Sir?”

Mikhail folded his arms and leaned back against a wall where he was out of the way of most of the foot traffic, but still had a good view of the dance floor. He spoke in Russian to ensure privacy. “They’re enjoying themselves. There’s nothing illegal or improper about that. They’re alone. They’re doing nothing wrong. I’m not going to ruin her night tonight when she’s going to be forced to stand at the altar with me tomorrow. That would be foolish, don’t you think?”

“Then why are we standing here?” Dimitri wanted to know.

Mikhail sighed. “Because in spite of what Tori might think, I care about her welfare.”

Chapter Three

Tori spun a quick circle and then grabbed Jamie’s hands. The two of them giggled like imbeciles, grinding on each other and then laughing about the ridiculousness of the behavior. Beside them, Mara was covering her mouth with her hands and looking scandalized.

“Men like that crap, and you know it!” Tori nearly shouted the words. “They think we’re doing something naughty when in reality we’re just having fun. Maybe I like a dance partner who won’t stomp all over my feet!”

Tori grabbed one of Mara’s hands and Jamie grabbed the other. Now the three of them were twirling, dipping, and spinning around each other like nymphs dancing secretly in the woods. Except they had no privacy. They were in the middle of a public dance floor, and they were most certainly garnering more than a little male attention.

“Oh!” Jamie said excitedly. “Look at that one.”

The guy she pointed to was gyrating his way toward them. The faux look of intensity on his face was laughable. Then Tori noticed that the man had a few friends along. In fact, there were four of them. This wasn’t exactly desirable, but Jamie was already crooking her finger and flirting as if she were completely drunk off her ass.

“Jamie!” Mara hissed. “That’s not a good idea!”

“Ugh!” Jamie moaned. “You’re such a worrier! Just live a little. It’s only dancing!”

Then one guy swept Jamie right off her feet and threw her in the air. Someone else plucked Mara’s hand from Tori’s, and her friend disappeared into the arms of another guy. This left two men ogling Tori and making her wish she’d chosen to wear a nun’s habit instead of her favorite pink club dress.

“Okay, time to back off.” Tori stopped dancing and stood stock still in the middle of the floor. “I’m not interested in either of you. In fact—” She had a brief inspiration. “—I’m getting married tomorrow, so I’m actually taken.” This whole Mikhail thing was going to come in handy after all. How cute. Too bad she actually had to marry the guy instead of just using him as a convenient excuse.

One of the men got even closer. He leaned down, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a sarcastic grin. “Then you should be grateful that we’re going to give you a little fun before you have to settle down.”

“Hey!” Tori shouted.

They actually picked her up off the floor. One man had her upper body, and the other had her legs. They flung her over one of their shoulders and started swaying side to side. One of the men was touching her hair, his hands all over her, making her skin crawl. The other man began fondling her bottom. His fingers were getting dangerously close to the apex of her thighs.

“I said no!” Tori was screaming it, but her face was squashed up against the guy’s back, and nobody could hear her over the music. Her friends were busy with their own problems, and she was utterly alone.

This was so not good. Not good at all.

***

MIKHAIL FELT THE icy tendrils of violence slide through his system as he and Dimitri made their way toward Tori and her friends. The two
mafiya
men didn’t go quietly. They shoved dancers out of the way, broke up couples, and sent groups flying in different directions. The two men left a trail of tumbled bodies in their wake and didn’t bother to apologize. They had other things to worry about.