Page 58 of Lost to Thievery
My heart shattered, tears flowing hot over my cheeks as I held his gaze. I never knew. I never realised he felt that way.
“Enough!” Vlad bellowed, yanking me past Owen.
They dragged us through a long corridor and up a set of stairs. The music was loud but muffled through the walls. I could feel it shake the ground underneath my feet. Or maybe it was me shaking. No one would even hear our execution.
They stopped at the end of the corridor and knocked on the door.
“Voydite,” a voice said from inside and Vlad pushed me through the door.
Ava
Itwasalarge,dark office. A flashy wooden desk at the centre, a liquor case on the left and couches to the right surrounding a pole that had a woman dancing on it. She had nothing on, except a lace thong and black heels. The dancer didn’t even skip a beat when she noticed us. It seemed like guns to people’s heads were a normal practice. The air was musty and smelled like stale cigar smoke. There was an older man sitting on the couch, his legs spread wide with a dark-haired, naked woman kneeling between them. I quickly looked up and away from her when I saw her head bobbing up and down. But unfortunately, I looked right into the man’s eyes. He gave me a challenging smile, waiting for me to baulk away from what I was seeing—to divert my eyes in shame.
So I kept his stare, keeping my face expressionless, almost bored.
As soon as the woman became aware of her audience, she stopped, lifted her head, but the man grabbed a fistful of her hair and forced her head back down. He never broke eye contact with me.
Vlad gave a chuckle as the woman started gagging on the man’s dick.
Nausea rolled through me and Owen jumped forward from beside me, struggling against the two men holding him back. They forced him to his knees.
The man laughed and let the woman’s head go, never looking away from me. The girl gasped for air and gave a soft moan. “Again,” she begged breathlessly.
The man looked away from me for the first time, grabbing the woman by her hair, pulling her up until she straddled his leg. He slapped her across the cheek and she grinded onto his leg in pleasure. “Not now, Kara. I have business to attend. Get me a drink.” He had the thickest accent of them all, his words coming out in heavy, staccato sounds.
The woman stood without protest. “Yes, sir.” She turned and walked to the liquor cabinet, winking at me as she passed us.
“What can I say. The girl has a filthy appetite,” the man said merrily, tucking his dick back into his pants. “Now who are you, and why are you disturbing my time with Kara?”
Vlad answered in Russian, and the man looked between me and Owen.
“So how did the cops find out about our little operation here?” he asked, taking the glass of whiskey from Kara.
“We’re not cops,” Owen spat, his toy-boy act was long gone. He stared at the man in disgust.
“Don’t take me for a fool, young man.”
Owen straightened. “I’mnota cop. But you’re right, Michael. You’re no fool.”
The men around us shifted uncomfortably when Owen said the older man’s name. But Michael only smiled, taking a sip from his whiskey.
“We’re not here for you. I don’t give a flying fuck about your…operationin that warehouse. We’re looking for someone. Grayson Varon.”
Michael laughed. “Never heard of such a man.”
I turned and patted Vlad’s chest, giving him a reassuring smile that caught him off guard. He didn’t know what to do about it, or the gun he had pointed at my back moments ago. I guess none of his prisoners had ever been so comfortable as to touch him. I stepped forward, concentrating on keeping my breathing steady and my face calm. I ran my fingers across Michael’s desk, bringing them up again as if inspecting them for dust. “Of course, you have. He’s the man who supplied you with the paint for your little operation.”Rule number five. When in trouble, bullshit your way through to the end. Be that escape or death. Never let the enemy see you slipping.
“And what might you know about that,girl?” Michael questioned.
I had his attention. “I helped him steal it. Almost had to fuck two security guards for those six jars.” I wrinkled my nose in disgust.
“I see,” Michael answered thoughtfully. He gestured to Owen. “Did he help too?”
“Him? No. He’s my guard dog. Like Vlad here.” I smiled sweetly at Vlad.
“How do you know Grayson Varon then, Miss…”
“Oh, you can call me Candice. And we run in the same circles, Mister Varon and I. Used to be good buddies, actually. Until hetook something of mine and disappeared.”My life.“I want it back.”
