Page 7 of The Red Room

The bartender halts mid drink and waves his hand to the bottles resting at the crest of this mountain of liquor.

Viktor shakes his head, and the cords of his large neck protrude with each sway.

Alek points again, and as if on cue, Viktor gives a silent no, shaking his head once more. Although not a single word is spoken between the two, this game of mental gymnastics carries on long enough for me to wonder just what in the hell he is planning on ordering us. He skipped over three bottles so far, some of which had to cost thousands. And now, Viktor makes some odd hand signals. Courtney glances at me, a confused smirk tugging one side of her plump lips.

I shrug in response. Don’t ask me. I’m happy standing here with the campfire of Nikolai Vostik incinerating my backside.

The bartender gives Viktor an affirming nod and pulls down a small bottle with a shimmering blue liquid. Every slosh glints off the club lights like firecrackers.Are those gold flakes?I’m not sure. Expensive is the only thing I’m certain of. The words on the black label are in a different language with odd symbols on each side. One word I can make out, however, isvotke. Vodka.

“Viktor,” Nik says and steps forward. “That is for the VIPs.”

“These ladies vant a good time, big brother,” Viktor scoffs and his grin becomes impossibly large. “We can’t be poor hosts.”

Alek fills two shot glasses to the brim and the ocean-blue alcohol settles and gleams. Viktor hands one to Courtney first, and then to me. I do my best to keep it all in the glass but some spills along my thumb and index finger, coating an odd stickiness on my skin.

Viktor leans in between us, as if he’s ready to share a secret no one else at the bar should know. “This vodka is rare. Illegal in most countries. Nik is de only man in the country who can get his hands on it, isn’t that right, Nikolai?”

Nik winces and clenches his teeth, never looking away from his brother.

“Why aren’t you guys having any?” Courtney asks and waves a hand between Nik and Viktor.

Viktor chuckles and rubs his palm on her bare shoulder. “We’ve had our fair share, trust me. It is much too expensive for us to indulge in regularly. We save this for our special guests.”

She’s hanging off his every word, nodding absent-mindedly with a schoolgirl grin. I find everything about the drink staring back at me suspicious. Courtney, however, looks over and raises her brow.

“Fuck it. To Völk?” She clinks her glass with mine. More spills to the sides and even finds its way in my heels.

Before I can protest, before I can even toast myself, she downs the vodka in a single gulp.To Völk, I think to myself and slowly raise the glass. When it’s near my chin, the obnoxious fumes overpower every other scent of the club. The combination of hairspray, perfume and cologne from the large crowd in the room disintegrates behind a liquor that smells like pure fire.

Courtney, shaking off a sour, pinched face, stares at me impatiently and nods. Nik doesn’t look into my eyes as he’s done for the past five minutes, but alternates between the glass in my hand and my mouth.Stop thinking, Natalie. Just drink the damn thing.I take a deep breath and bring the glass to my bottom lip.Just drink it.

Crash.The lights of the room flinch. My body hurls forward. The glass slips from my fingers and shatters on the floor. Arms outstretched, I grab for anything within reach to stay upright. A chair. The bar. Nik. My hands miss them all. The entire club seems to tilt on a different axis, and finally, my face and shoulder slam on the vodka-stained ground.

“What the fuck, dude?” Courtney screams above the music.

Of course.Here I am, having one of the best nights of my life with a man way out of my league, and now, I’m on the ground like a fucking toddler who can’t balance on their own goddamn feet. It could be pain or sheer embarrassment, but part of me wants to curl into a ball and play dead. Is that a rug? No, that’s Natalie. Just step over her please, the dress is new. My tousled hair drapes over my face, hiding the lights of the room.

A hand brushes the hair away from my eyes. The touch is gentle, but the skin of his fingers is rough. Firm. I peer upward. Nik is hunched right in front of me, caressing my hair to the sideof my face not planted on the floor. The look of concern softens his hard features.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low.

I nod despite the tears filling my eyes. Welp. It was fun while it lasted. Now I’m going to be nothing more than the woman he pities.

He slides one palm to the back of my neck and the other under my knees. Nik lifts me to his chest, cradling me until I’m pressed tight to his body, and stands tall with surprising ease. The mouthwatering smell of him replaces the awful stench of the vodka still slick on the floor. I changed my mind. This is where I’d rather spend the rest of the night. Supported by his strong arms wrapped around my body. Wrapped around me entirely.

He lowers me to the floor until my heels meet solid ground, and when he does, his eyes shift from worry to rage.

“Why don’t you watch where the fuck you’re going?” he shouts over the beat of Völk. Nik shields me behind him with his arm and glares holes at a large man positioned at the bar, his back turned.

Courtney rushes over, helps me fix my dress, and smooths my hair to its rightful place. “Are you okay, Nat?”

“What—what happened?” I ask, still struggling to find balance.

She scowls at the same guy Nik takes a step toward, his fists clenched tight.

“That fuckingassholeknocked you down,” Courtney screams above the music.

The man at the bar, all three-hundred pounds of him, turns around, confusion and anger settling on his thick brow. His eyes land on Courtney and me, then Nik, who takes another step forward.

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