1. Nia

It's always funny when you look back on a defining moment that slashes your reality into a before and after. The few minutes or even seconds that change your life forever.

* * *

"Come on, Nia!" my friend Ana says loudly. "You turned thirty, not fifty. Let's go have fun! It's still early."

The woman is a beautiful, curvy black queen. She's also loud, opinionated, and sassy as fuck. And right now, what Mrs. Maksimov wants is to drag me to her husband's club, Samovar. The bar-lounge that's the hot spot in our mid-sized Central California coastal town, but all I can picture is people, loud noises and… people. Ugh.

Today's my thirtieth birthday and my girls took me out to dinner. Maty, my best friend since middle school. Who's just as gorgeous and luscious as Ana. But instead of a classy, sexy femme fatale style, hers is more "Princess Leia buns" and fun, colorful outfits. Natasha, Ana's colleague, friend, and now sister-in-law is another bombshell who's all tits and ass, with caramel eyes from her Russian dad and big, curly hair from her African-American mom. We're all dressed in short, tight, sexy numbers, hair and make-up done, and have been getting male attention the whole night.

I had a lot of fun. We chatted, laughed our asses off, ate way too much delicious food. And now my bed is calling!

"I'm good, Ana. Dinner was great. Thank you, ladies. But I'm wiped."

She scrunches her gorgeous face and starts boo-ing me. Natasha and Maty giggle like the lunatics they are.

"Come on, girl. Just one drink," Maty chimes in.

Ugh, I could never say no to this girl. I let out a loud sigh, rolling my eyes.

"One drink, then I'm going home."

"Yaaass!" Ana shouts again, making me join in the chorus of laughter.

If I'd known then how that night would turn out, how much it would affect my life, I wonder if I would have gone…

* * *

Yep, Samovar is just as loud and crowded as I thought. But the place is beautiful. Dimly lit, elegantly decorated, and the music selection is awesome. We start dancing to 90s and 2000s hip-hop and r&b beats as soon as we step through the door. Fine, I'm having a good time. It's my birthday and I'm partying with my girls. I guess I can handle being tired in the morning and brushing shoulders with a few obnoxious party-goers. The big 3-0 only hits once, right?

After a good half-hour of shaking what our mamas gave us on the dance-floor and laughing our heads off, we make our way to the back of the club where Ana's husband and his friends are seated in the VIP section. And I have to admit, I'm a bit apprehensive. I've heard a lot about the infamous Dmitry Maksimov. The rumor mill says the man is a bona-fide gangster boss. Bratva to be more specific. But both Ana and Nat seem to have a great relationship with him, so I guess I'll just have to see for myself.

As we approach this quieter area of the lounge, I take in the small group of men sitting there, and sweet baby Jesus, I must have died and gone to heaven. Because these guys are the very definition of foine! They stand, towering over us, even in our heels. And two of them saunter over to come claim their women.

Ana melts into the embrace of the brown-haired giant who looks at her like she's the sun that brightens his sky.

A scary-looking, silver-eyed hunk curls Nat into his side. And it's like she molds into his muscular body.

Good God!

I turn to Maty, who smirks at me. She did tell me they were hot, but I thought she meant normal, every day guys hot. Not Adonises descended from Mount Olympus!

The two last men are just as drool-worthy. One is dark-blond, with tattoos peeking from the collar of his black button-down. And by the way he and my girl stare at each other, I'm pretty sure this massive hottie is Maty's boss and years-long crush, Alessio DeLuca…

But the last man? This one looks like he was stripped straight out of my most perfect, most intimate fantasies. He's fucking tall as a tree, big, broad, and deliciously sexy. His face is all sharp angles and cut lines. His dark gaze, hypnotic. With almond-shaped eyes that seem to see straight into my soul. His full lips are a deep shade of pink. I catch myself wondering how the stubble on his chin would feel on my skin, and my face grows hot at the wild thought. I frantically lower my gaze, my eyes falling on his large, manly hands. The backs of which are covered with swirly ink. And another crazy image flashes through my mind. My own fingers peeling off the layers of his impeccably cut suit and white button-down shirt to reveal the ink etched all over his golden skin. A shiver runs through my entire body. What in the fuck?!

It's like I'm paralyzed, frozen in place. Unable to make a single move. Caught in the web of his heavy-lidded, burning stare. He takes a step forward and wraps a warm palm around my shaking fingers. His fiery gaze never leaving mine. We're so close that I can feel the heat from his large body through the layers of our clothes. His scent enveloping me. Woodsy notes and undertones of manly musk. My insides melt like butter on a hot summer day. My heart beats erratically and my mouth goes dry. Pussy pulsating under the devouring stare of this stranger. But he doesn't feel like a stranger. He feels like… mine. I draw in a shaky breath, attempting to calm down and take stock of my emotions. But all I feel is rightness. Our touch, our proximity. The way he instantly came to me and grabbed a hold of my hand. It's fucking crazy and absolutely perfect.