Bratva Boss’ Baby by Winter Sloane

Chapter Seven

“If you look at my résumé, you can see I’ve worked for three notable accounting firms in the city,” the bespectacled man sitting in front of Viktor and Pavel said. “If you give me this position, you won’t regret it.”

Brad Decker shifted uncomfortably on his chair. He was in his forties, already balding, and had worn an uncomfortably hot tweed suit to the interview. That made him sweat buckets. Brad pulled out a soiled handkerchief from the pocket of his jacket and wiped at his face. Pavel gave him a look of disgust and shook his head.

“We still have more candidates to interview, but my assistant Katya will call you if we decide to hire you,” Viktor said. He rose to his feet. Brad shook his offer hand. Once Brad left, Viktor wiped away the sweat Brad had transferred to his hand. This process started to get on Viktor’s nerves. A week had passed since they’d started interviewing potential candidates. None of them were the right fit.

It galled him that Ava hadn’t called about the job either. Viktor told himself it was better that way. Better to separate his personal life from his business, and the Family meant everything to him. Still. Viktor could still remember the sweet and intoxicating taste of her. The way her lips formed a perfect circle of surprise as she came all over his cock.

Fuck. This had never happened to him before. His mind usually didn’t linger on his hookups, but Ava’s face remained clear in his mind. He couldn’t erase her, despite trying so hard. She was a witch, and she’d done something to him. Broke him. Viktor couldn’t look at another woman after their night together. Rather, he didn’t give a shit about any other woman save Ava.

“Viktor, are you listening?” Pavel asked.

“Hmm?”

“I said the Mogilevich Family just burned down one of our warehouses. What the fuck’s going on with you lately, anyway? You’re distracted just when the Family needs you the most.” Pavel gave him a critical look.

Viktor processed his brother’s words. He cracked his knuckles. The Mogilevich Family had the fucking nerve to burn one of their warehouses? They had been steadily provoking the Kotov Family over the past few weeks, but this? They were practically begging for a war. One Viktor didn’t want to give. Unlike Goran Mogilevich and his brothers, Viktor didn’t like losing any of his men needlessly. Family and loyalty meant everything to Viktor.

“We need to retaliate or our reputation will take a dive,” Pavel pointed out. For once, his brother had made an excellent point.

“You’re right.” Viktor pondered on the problem a little more. He could tell Pavel was growing impatient, but he wanted to think this through.

The Mogilevich Bratva relied heavily on the drug trade. Over the last few months, they’d been steadily cutting out their competition. Killing them off was the better term. They were messy, too. Not professional at all and the local authorities couldn’t turn a blind eye to all the bodies they left behind. During their aggressive expansion, they’d made a lot of enemies. Enemies who wanted to see them dead.

Viktor thought he could deal with the Mogileviches at a later time, but they were festering parasites that refused to die. After that junkie followed him to the hotel a week ago, another attempt on his life had been made while he was eating lunch at his favorite diner downtown. Fortunately, his man managed to spot the shooter and had taken him down before he did any real damage.

“They recently opened a new club at the Sapphire Tower downtown. Let’s get a team. Pay them a visit,” Pavel suggested.

In his brother’s language, that meant barging inside the club, guns blazing. This was one of the reasons why Pavel wasn’t the boss. Why their father chose Viktor to lead them.

“No. I know your idea of fun. There’ll be unnecessary casualties.”

Pavel looked at Viktor like he’d gotten soft, and he didn’t like that. “The police are on our payroll.”

Viktor scoffed. “For now. The Mogileviches riled them up good. Our relationship with the cops is fragile at the moment. No. I have a better idea.”

“What’s that?”

“Send out a messenger to Fernandez. Tell him we want to arrange a meeting.”

Pavel stared at him as if Viktor lost his mind. “Why would you want to meet the head of the cartel?”

“Because despite his arrangements with the Mogileviches, Fernandez hates them as much as we do.”

Pavel looked at him uncertainly, but Viktor knew his brother wouldn’t go against his orders. Pavel stared at the space where Brad sat moments ago. “And our accountant problem?”

“Will be solved by the end of the day.” Viktor made his decision. If Ava wouldn’t come to him, then he’d go to her. Most people considered him a brute, and Viktor could be pretty persuasive if he wanted. After his brother left, Viktor took out his phone. He called their in-house hacker.

“Sergio, I need you to track down someone for me,” he said. “I need this woman’s address right away.”

“Understood, boss.”

****

Ava slumped against the hard plastic seat, feeling defeated. Today was a bad day, more like an awful week. Another terrible interview. Her fifth one this week. She got so lost in her train of thoughts, she almost missed her stop. Ava rose to her feet, slung her bag over her shoulder, and exited the train. It’s only been a week, she told herself. She couldn’t give up that easily.

She trudged up the stairs leading to the street. One block later, she arrived at her apartment building. The doorman greeted her. Ava managed to flash him a smile. She entered the elevators. Between sending out numerous résumés and trying her hand at yoga, she’d had plenty of time to look over her finances.

It soon became clear to her that she was spending too much every month. She definitely had to move out of this apartment for one. Ava could still remember the first day she moved into her unit. It looked like a palace compared to the dump she grew up in. Her mom had told her how proud of her she was after Ava bombarded her with photos of her new swanky place.

Ava got off the elevator. She paused, noting the door to her apartment was open. Ava frowned. That was odd. She distinctively remembered locking her door when she left earlier this morning. She reached for her phone. She should call 911, but something felt off. How did anyone break into her place? For one, the doorman, Charlie, intercepted anyone who wasn’t a resident.

Despite a voice telling her to just call for help, she turned the knob and peered inside. Besides, the thieves would’ve probably stolen everything of value and had left by now. A man stood in her living room, huge and intimidating. Ava nearly pressed the call button, except when he turned, she recognized that profile.

She furrowed her brow. “Viktor? What are you doing here? Wait. Were you the one who broke into my apartment? How?”

He shrugged like it was no big deal. “I’ve been waiting for you to call. You never did.”

“What?”

“I offered you a job. I’m guessing from the haggard expression on your face that you haven’t found one yet?” he asked.

“Um. Yeah. It hasn’t been easy. The HR managers kept telling me my expected salary is too high. That they could just hire someone younger, someone who came from a better school.” She scoffed. Why was she telling him all this? Any other woman would’ve been freaked out to find the man they slept with a week ago had broken into their apartment. Ava noticed he was once again wearing one of his tailored suits. A dark-gray one this time. He walked up to her and plucked the phone she was holding.

“There’s no need for this,” he said, setting the phone down on the coffee table. “It wasn’t my intention to scare you.”

“Yeah? Well, you’ve done a good job of it so far.” She sucked in a breath when he cupped her cheek. His dark eyes looked intense, contemplative.

“I’ll never hurt you, Ava. Not you,” he said.

Ava had no reason to believe him. For all she knew, he really was some kind of criminal. A psychotic stalker who somehow found out where she lived. Which reminded her. “How did you find me?” she demanded.

“Google. You shouldn’t put your real address on your online résumé,” he said.

What right did Viktor have to admonish her like she was some kind of errant child? Still, he did have a point. Ava couldn’t remember doing that, but she’d been out of it lately. She hadn’t gotten much sleep over the last few days, and her anxiety level was off the roof.

“In case you didn’t know, I was debating calling you right after my failed interview today, but I’m starting to change my mind,” she said.

Ava realized she hadn’t locked her door yet. She closed it and returned to the living room. The smug bastard looked far too comfortable lounging on her sofa. Her tabby cat, Fatty, circled Viktor’s legs and meowed softly at him. The traitor. Fatty had never been affectionate with her. To her surprise, Viktor picked her up and settled her on his lap. He started to stroke Fatty, and the conniving feline let him.

She had to admit seeing Viktor being so good with her pet made her reassess her initial opinion of him.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m still freaked out by all of this,” she said, taking a seat on the armchair next to the sofa. Should she offer him a drink? That seemed silly. What any sane person would do was throw Viktor out and call the cops. Still, she didn’t think he meant her any harm. Yet.

“And yet you’re curious about my job offer.”

“I’m desperate. I know my savings won’t last the end of the mouth.” She blushed, angry at herself for admitting the shameful truth. She took out his card from her purse. Viktor smirked, and that irritated her somehow. Of course, he’d be smug to know she hadn’t disposed of his business card. “What exactly does Kotov Entertainment do?”

“I own a couple of strip clubs in the city. My last accountant, as you recall, stole from me. My accounts are all over the place. He also used his own system, so it’s been hell trying to sort out the mess he left behind.”

She blinked and stared at him. Ava had the impression strip club owners were sleazy individuals, and Viktor looked so well put-together. It wouldn’t be hard to imagine him dining with the mayor and his wife or attending some charity event for the wealthy. Ava told herself she had no right making judgments about others.

“I’ll double whatever your old firm’s been paying you.”

That stumped her completely. “What? Are you serious?” She had been prepared to take a pay cut, but the HR managers she’d spoken to said she was still asking for too much. Yet, here was Viktor, making a ridiculous offer. Nothing in this world was free. Growing up dirt poor taught Ava she had to fight for everything.

“What’s the catch?” she asked. There had to be one.

“No catch. I’m used to running a well-oiled machine. The cogs of that machine stopped working the moment my previous accountant quit and that—” Viktor seemed to struggle to find an appropriate word. “Unsettled me.”

“Oh. Can’t you call your old accountant? Just to sort of some of the chaos he left behind?”

“He skipped town.”

Ava wanted to smack her forehead. Of course. She’d almost forgotten this guy had stolen from Viktor. Not a very wise move. Ava had a feeling those who crossed Viktor would soon come to regret their actions. Was she seriously considering working for someone like him?