Chapter 16

Chapter 15

Luka

"FUCKING ALEKS, that mudak, has the balls to open his trash heap right on our doorstep!"

Dimitri"s voice cuts through the haze of smoke and low thrum of bass in the VIP lounge of our rooftop bar.

The place is drenched in the scent of expensive cigars and the sweet perfume of hostesses weaving through tables, offering distractions that only the night can promise. Neon lights bathe the area in a seductive glow, reflecting off the glassy surface of the central warm pool where shadows mingle and flirt.

Erik leans back, a smirk playing on his lips, his eyes tracking a particularly daring hostess as she bends over to serve a group of high-rollers. Her generous tits proudly on show peeking out from the low-cut top she"s wearing.

Erik"s gaze lingers a moment longer, appreciating the view, before he coolly redirects his attention back to me.

"Let him try," Eric drawls, sipping on his vodka, ice-cold like his gaze. "This is our turf. He"s just a desperate dog marking territory."

I clench my fist around my own glass, whiskey amber under the nightclub"s pulsing lights. The music is a mix of deep house and techno, a throbbing heartbeat that mirrors my rising irritation.

"Aleks thinks he"s making a statement," I spit out.

Slamming the whiskey back, feeling it burn all the way down. The glass hits the table hard, a sharp clink against the throb of the bass.

"What"s our damage?" I take a drag at my cigar before turning my head to Erik, my fists clenching at my sides like I"m ready to start swinging at shadows.

Erik leans in, the dim light catching the hard lines of his face. "Our regulars are sticking around, for now. But that Suka Aleks is pulling every dirty trick. Got famous faces showing up at his place. It"s a cheap stunt."

Dimitri slams his fist on the table, making the glasses dance. "Fucking circus is what it is. Since when did we start losing to a clown hiring washed-up actors to fill his beds?"

I scoff, the taste of anger bitter on my tongue. "He thinks he can turn this into a Hollywood playground, huh? Thinks glitz will buy him the throne in this hellhole?"

Erik"s smile doesn"t reach his eyes.

"Let him play his game. We"ll hit him where it hurts. Money talks louder than any B-list celebrity."

"Yeah," Dimitri chimes in, his grin all shark, no charm. "Let's see how he likes it when his shiny new attractions start turning up at our doorstep, begging for a real taste of the night."

"We need to be smarter," Erik, ever the silent one, nods, his eyes a cold calculation.

"Our new gambling license is in the bag," Erik announces, barely glancing up as a waitress hovers, attempting to refill drinks. A hard stare from him sends her skittering back into the shadows, the message clear: we"re not here for the service.

"High-stakes tables are rolling out in a few weeks. Aleks and his shiny playhouse won"t stand a chance."

"His hotel"s gonna eat dust before it hits a year," Dimitri growls, puffing out a cloud of smoke so thick it momentarily veils his face. I can see the vein in his neck throbbing, a clear sign of the anger boiling beneath.

The buzz of the idea zips through me.

I imagine the raw, electric atmosphere of our future club, the heavy clinks of chips, and the cold, calculating gazes of the players. Here, in this club, where the only light comes from the shimmering pool and the flickering neon, we"re plotting the fall of Aleks"s empire.

"You smart fuck," I smirk at Erik, impressed despite myself. "What"s our take gonna look like with this new setup?"

Erik doesn"t miss a beat. "Initial calculation, around ten million a week."

I raise an eyebrow, letting the number sink in. "That"s a good start."

Dimitri lets out a whistle, reclining into the plush leather of the sofa with a smirk.

"What do you need from us?" I ask Erik, leaning back, feeling the full weight of the past and our future on my shoulders. Erik"s the brain behind the operation, making moves I couldn"t even when I was on the outside. Four years in a cell, and he, along with Dimitri, didn"t just keep the Ivankov Bratva running; they grew it, stretched our reach further than I ever did.

Erik tosses me a look, a ghost of a smirk on his face. "Got it covered. Just another day at the office, you know?"

Right then, Laughter hits my ears, loud and clear, a deliberate jab from the pool.

The trio of girls, splashing around, their eyes fixed on us like we"re the night"s main show.

They"re not just enjoying the pool; they"re putting on a performance, aiming every giggle and curve directly at our table.

One leans back against the pool"s edge, her body arching in a way that screams "look at me", champagne glass held high.

Another swirls the water with her hair, sending sparkling droplets flying, her eyes locked on Dimitri.

Dimitri takes another long drag of his cigar, clearly not giving a damn about the girl"s show.

The last one, standing ankle-deep, tosses her head back, a challenge in her gaze meant for Erik and me.

The trio keeps up their little circus in the water, but my mind"s stuck on a loop, replaying a memory I can"t shake— the waitress from the other night, her loud moans still echoing in my ear, her dripping pussy begging for my cock.

Fuck.

My veins throb with desire as I think about her.

Erik, catching the drift but missing the point, raises his glass in a silent toast to the spectacle before us, then turns, a sly grin splitting his face.

"You like?"

"Fuck, no," I snap, quicker than I intend. My gaze hardens, trying to push away the unwelcome thoughts.

"Ah - Lost your touch, Luka?" Erik"s laughter fills the air, mocking.

"Fuck off," I snap at Erik, shooting him a glare that could freeze hell over.

But of course, he doesn't care. Leaning in, a smirk playing on his lips. "Still hung up on that server from the party?" he teases, the joke sharp enough to cut.

My glare sharpens, wishing I could wipe that grin off his face. "Mind your own business," I retort, the words laced with a warning.

Fucking hell, yank your head out of your dark hole Luka.

Anger boils within me, my blood hot and ready to explode. I clench my jaw, reminding myself she"s just another worthless fuck who shouldn"t matter.

But who am I kidding?

She"s the only pussy I"ve been craving since she vanished that day.

Dimitri"s already on his feet, not buying into this game. "I"m out," he declares, a hint of disgust in his tone.

I toss back my drink, the burn of whiskey in my throat. These girls are throwing themselves at me, but I"m not interested. Not in them.

I stand up abruptly from the table. "They"re all yours."

"Thanks," he responds, standing and stretching his chiseled body, making the girls" heads snap like magnets.

With an effortless coolness, he sheds his pants, leaving him in just his boxer briefs, looking like a smug GQ model. He confidently dives into the pool, causing the girls to squeal with excitement.

It's annoying.

Like a drug, she's coursing through my veins and making me ache for more. Her body, all soft curves and dangerous hips, presses against mine as we move in perfect rhythm.

Blyad!

I just need a few days, that"s all.

She"ll be out of my system, erased, like she never fucking mattered.