King of Ruin

by Sasha Leone

have a boyfriend. No offense, but….” “A boyfriend,” he scoffs. “I don’t see any boyfriend.” “He isn’t—" “He isn’t what?”

“He can’t be much of a boyfriend if he leaves you alone like this… or are you lying?”

“Come. Dance. I’ll show you what a real man is made of.”

“You’d like some of this, wouldn’t you?” he snarls. “Come on. You don’t have a boyfriend, bitch. You just need to loosen the fuck up.” “Get off me!”

“And who’s going to make me?” he says, swaying back into my personal space. “Your fake boyfriend?” “He’s not fake,” I hiss, lying through my teeth.

“Where is he, then? Who is he?”

Then, without warning, he lifts his hand and folds his fingers toward me. The gesture is clear. He wants me to come to him.

“You stupid lying bitch! You don’t have any boyfriend.”

“He’s right there!” I snap, pointing up at the man on the mezzanine. “And he’s calling me. Gotta go.”

“You bitch!” he shouts, his voice quickly fading. “You made me spill my drink! I swear…”

I want something more. I need something more.

To my surprise, I feel a small smile relax my curled lips. “You don’t belong here, little deer…”

“Hmmm,” I rumble. “A challenge…” For the first time in a long time, I feel like going down into that throng of people and pulling one out. For a brief moment, I’m the man I was before all the power.

“Look my way, little deer,” I whisper. “Come to me.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I hiss, pushing myself off my elbows. My fingers clench into fists

Suddenly, those beautiful blue eyes find mine. Just like that, the rest of the club vanishes. My gut tightens. She practically sparkles in a spotlight all of her own. Part of me expects her to grin or smirk or flirt the way another girl might. But there’s no sign she knows who I am. How fucking delicious.

She doesn’t know who I am. … I’ll have to change that. Slowly, the club pulses back around me, but I stay laser-focused on the girl who’s captured my attention. With a new fire burning inside of me, I lift my hand and do what a god does when he wants something. I tell it to come to me. My fingers curl as I beckon her.

It doesn’t matter if she’s coming to me. I’m going to get her.

what you fucking did. You made me spill my drink. Now you’re gonna replace it before I….”

Out of nowhere, a massive, muscular hand snatches Mikey’s wrist. His fingers are torn from my elbow and twisted backward with such force that his arm nearly wrenches out of its socket.

“You’re making a nuisance of yourself again, Mike,”

you have a problem with this young lady?” “Aarrgh!” Mike howls. “Who the—”

“You know, Mike,”

“I’m getting really, really sick of telling you to behave yourself in this club. In fact, I think tonight will be the very last time I ever tell you. Is that clear? Am I speaking clearly enough for your tiny, swollen brain to understand?”

“I asked you a question,” the man snarls. “Do you understand what I just said?” Mike nods fast. His terrified, desperate eyes dart around the dance floor in search of help.

“Now, I want you to apologize to this pretty lady. Can you do that for me?” “… Yes,” Mike chokes. “Go on.” “I… I’m sorry…” “That was pathetic.” “I… I’m really sorry… really…”

“Now, tell her what a nice man I am. Tell her that she should come upstairs and have a drink with me. Tell her that’s the only way I won’t slit your throat right here and now.”

“Good enough,” the stranger grumbles. Then he looks at me. “What do you think? Should I slit his throat anyway or should we head upstairs for a drink instead?” “I, uh…”

“This way, darling.”

The heat of his touch makes my knees weak.

Instead, I find the stranger’s arm. “That’s a good girl.”

“Excuse me?” I ask, still in a daze and not sure I heard him right.

“You’re shaking,” he notes, squeezing my palm.

“I’m… I’m okay,” I stumble. “I’m just… I’m just shaken up, I guess. Nothing like that has ever happened to me before.”

“It’s Andrei—Andrei Zherdev. And you are?”

“I’m Natalya...” I

not that much of a lightweight.” Andrei’s green eyes scour my body. “You look pretty light to me.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t have enough money to—” I

“Sorry, I…” “No, keep going,” Andrei insists.

“Why are you checking to see how much I weigh anyway?” I divert, treading into dangerous waters. “Are you trying to pick me up?’

“I’ve been carried by plenty of guys,” I naively declare. “Oh, now you’re making me jealous on purpose.”

“Well, then follow me, little deer,”

“If your name isn’t Pakhan, why did you answer to it?” I ask, filling the tense silence. “It’s a title.” He cocks his head and eyes me suspiciously. “You really don’t know what it means?” “No. Why would I?”

“It’s a Russian mafia title. I’m a Bratva boss—the top Bratva boss. It’s a name that indicates respect, kind of like how the Italians call their top boss ‘godfather’ or whatever.”

“I’ve been on my own ever since. In and out of foster care, then in and out of…”

“Look I’m not insulting them. I’m just saying you’re out of their league.”

“You’re joking, right? Look, if you want me to introduce you to her, just say so. I’m sure she would love to meet a guy like you.”

“No. Don’t leave, little deer,” he says, almost like it’s an order. “I’m not interested in your friend. I’m interested in you.” “Don’t fuck with me, okay? I’ve had enough...”

he catches my face between his palms and slams his lips against mine. It happens so fast I don’t process it right away. By the time I do, he pulls back.

“Was that enough to conv...