Page 46 of Paved in Hate

“Thank you.”

She smiles and wraps an arm around my waist when I pull her closer. We walk out of my office together, and as soon as we hit the main area, her body stiffens next to mine. The place is packed like usual, and there are women at every pole and on every stage. It’s tits, ass, and barely covered pussy as far as the eye can see, but none of it does a damn thing for me, and I want her to know that.

Leaning closer so she can hear me over the sultry beat, I say, “You’re the only woman who gets me hard,ptichka.” I motion at the club around us. “When I first took control of this place, it was an absolute dump, the kind of place that you couldn’t have paid me to walk barefoot in. I had to pretty much gut the place and start over from scratch.”

I point above us to the VIP section that circles around the entire club. “I made the VIP section an area that actually feels like it’s set apart, and I had a kitchen built onto the place and hired one of the best chefs in the city. I also made sure the dressing rooms had private areas for each of the dancers and several hot tubs to soak their sore muscles. The men who work security are in our Bratva, and they know that none of the women are to be touched unless they allow it. No one’s getting assaulted at my club.”

She looks at everything I’m pointing out and nods her head. “I bet you make a ton of money here.”

“It’s pure profit at this point.”

She eyes a man getting a lap dance less than ten feet away and then turns her blue eyes back to mine. “I’m not so sure I’ll ever feel comfortable here,” she admits, “but I can appreciate what you’ve done with the place. You’ve made it a huge success. That’s pretty amazing, and I may hate strip clubs, but I can admit that this one doesn’t feel sleazy like I thought it would.”

I smile at her praise. I’ve worked my ass off making this club a success, and even though it’s not her thing, it means the fucking world to me that she’s keeping an open mind and seeing all the hard work I’ve put into this place.

“Come on,” I say, squeezing her hand and pulling her toward the bar. “I want you to meet someone.”

As soon as Mila sees us, she smiles and leans against the bar.

“Mila, I want to introduce you to Katya, my wife.”

I kiss Katya’s head and say, “Mila is married to Timofey, one of our top men.”

Katya smiles and shakes Mila’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Mila laughs and shakes her head at me. “Nice to meet you, too.” She gives another soft laugh. “My husband was at your wedding, and I swear if he hadn’t taken a photo, I never would’ve believed it.” She points a finger at me while looking at Katya. “This guy always swore he’d never get married.”

Katya laughs. “I’m pretty sure he didn’t want to marry me.”

Mila shakes her head. “It might have been forced on you at first, but look at this guy.” They both turn to stare at me. “I never thought I’d see Vitaly in love.”

I give her my biggest smile and shrug. “You can take a picture if you want.”

She laughs and takes me up on it, pulling her phone from her back pocket. Before she can snap a photo, I pull Katya in closer so we can both smile at the camera. Mila laughs and puts her phone away.

“Can you tell Maurice to get us two meals to go?” I ask her while she pours me a shot of vodka that I didn’t ask for but she knows I’ll drink.

“Sure.” She gives Katya another smile. “Really good to meet you.”

“She’s very nice,” Katya says when Mila walks off to take another drink order and to call Maurice in the back so he can get started on our steaks.

“She is,” I agree. “This place wouldn’t run nearly as smoothly without her.”

I let out an annoyed groan when I hear a feminine voice call my name. Turning my head, I see the group of women who’d been filling Katya’s head with rumors and tales of my past. Keeping her pressed tightly against me, I down my shot and then turn to face them. The three women were on their way to being drunk last time I saw them, and it looks like they’ve managed to arrive at their destination. The redhead giggles, barely keeping herself upright while the two blondes use each other for support. They look vaguely familiar, probably regulars at the club.

“Vitaly,” one of the blondes squeals, giving me a sloppy, lopsided smile. “Remember me?”

“No, I don’t.”

The redhead laughs and nudges the blonde’s shoulder, or tries to anyway. She almost manages to knock her own ass onto the floor, but she rights herself at the last second, looking just as surprised by it as I am.

“I told you he wouldn’t recognize you,” she tells her friend. “You’re probably lying anyway.”

“I am not,” the blonde hisses before turning her bloodshot eyes up to me. “Tell her you fucked me.”

“Did I?”

The redhead snorts out another laugh while the other blonde whispers a “Harsh” under her breath. Katya watches them, but she doesn’t pull away from me.

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