Florence Grace receives the job offer of a life time, only to learn that things are not all they seem to be.
By the time she realizes that her boss is more than just a Russian Billionaire, it's to late to turn back.
As Kazimir Zaostrovsky comes to...
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The following three weeks were jammed pack with meetings, conference calls, and a few dinner meetings. Those were my favorite because the food was always amazing as Kazimir always chose the restaurant. The man had good taste. Over the span of those three weeks, it was no longer a question as to whether or not I held his affection, I know he enjoyed my company considering we spent the last three Friday evenings making dinner together.
I'd be lying if I said he didn't have an effect on me. He was handsome, powerful and dangerous. I learned that at our dinner meeting two weeks ago on Thursday.
We'd met the man at some two Michelin star restaurant that had a black-tie dress code, not that Kazimir seemed to eat anywhere else. When we got there the man was already at the table with two of his goonies, just tough looking guys with guns under their suit jackets. Nikolai had gone with us and I'd sat between him and Kazimir, where they deemed I'd be safe.
The man hadn't exactly agreed with a 'request' that Kazimir had given him. He slammed his clunky ring clad hands down on the fine tablecloth and caused the cutlery to shutter under the impact. Jumping slightly out of surprise, Kazimir's hand took a reassuring spot on my knee. He handled it like a pro, waving off the guards that were in three of the corners looking in on us for any threats.
When we finally arrived back to the house, I finally asked the question that had been brewing in the back of my mind.
"I have to ask you something." I poured us both a scotch before putting the bottle back on the liquor tray and walking towards him. Taking the glass from me, he held my eyes and waited for me to speak up. "Are you a part of the bratva?" Bratva was the Russian term for mafia. It only made sense and it was all I could come up with.
"In a way."
"In a way?" I asked in disbelief at his vagueness. "Kazimir, you either are or you are not a part of the bratva. There is no in between with them."
He smirked, taking a drink of the bronze liquid. He kept his eyes on the glass for a moment as he swirled it around in a gentle manner. Then his eyes flicked up to mine, holding my attention captive.
"If I answer that question, Florence, I can never take it back. You can't act like you don't know."
I couldn't look away as the fear started to edge its way into my mind. If I let him answer, everything would change.
"Tell me the truth."
He took a deep breath, accompanying it with a nod. "Florence, I'm the pakhan." Pakhan, the word used to describe the leader of the bratva. It only made sense, the money, the mansion, the respect and fear in the eyes of everyone who saw him. For a moment, I stood there frozen, unsure if any words would suffice.
Glancing down at my hands, I took a deep breath before asking the first thing that came to my mind.
