Sold to the Mob Boss: A Mafia Romance (Lavrin Bratva) by Nicole Fox (best e books to read TXT) 📕

He grins and shrugs. “Whatever you say, darling.”

I throw it back. The last one is much smoother than the first. It slides down my throat and adds to the warm glow in my belly. I feel my hips swaying to the music as if they have a life of their own.

“I think that ought to do it for now. Annie, would you like to dance?” The man offers his hand.

“Sure.” I fumble a little to place my hand in his, the alcohol taking effect. “By the way, what’s your name?” I call as he leads us back towards the dance floor.

The man turns his head over his shoulder to meet my gaze. “Stephen.”

We reach the edge of the mass of people and slip inside, the crowd parting like waves and then closing behind us, swallowing us deep within the hot, grinding bodies. Stephen pulls me into his embrace. In the dark, all I can see are his high cheekbones and shining eyes. We press closer together, bouncing and swaying to the hard bass pumping through the speakers. The white flash of his teeth is as bright as the lights above.

His body pressed against mine is rock solid, warm, and unyielding. I can feel the heat in my stomach and between my legs, rising up, boiling over. I can barely remember the old Annie, the one who wanted to stay in bed and watch people play doctor on television. I feel too alive for a night like that.

The club is electric, everyone feeding off the smiles and fast dancing. I could go like this all night long, never stopping. I move in my miniskirt like my hips were made to sway. The beat tugs at me like I’m a puppet on strings.

A perfect moment, one to remember forever.

That’s when the nightmare begins.

Chapter Three

Annie

Stephen pulls me up against his body and every nerve ending in my body fires off. He grinds against me, my arms wrapped around his neck. His hot breath on my skin is invigorating.

“You’re very sexy, Annie,” Stephen says. How is he getting away with being so cheesy and direct? If he were anyone else, he’d seem so cheesy, so lame. I don’t know if it’s because he’s just that good-looking, or if he’s casting a spell on me, or what, but whatever it is, it’s working.

I bite my lower lip and duck my eyes to avoid his gaze, both out of shyness and because this close, my eyesight begins to blur.

We continue to dance, the smoke from the dry ice twisting artistically, forming curls as it’s illuminated by the colored lights. My grip on Stephen tightens as the world becomes a carousel, gaining momentum.

“Are you okay?”

I nod slowly and look up at Stephen. “Just a bit too much to drink.”

Everything feels like it’s catching up to me suddenly. The pleasant heat in my hips is turning into a boiling inferno. I feel very wrong, somehow. Dizzy, sweaty, but shivering.

Stephen pulls me closer, his lips nuzzling the side of my neck. A flood of endorphins urges me to turn and kiss him, something that I would never do. But when I turn to meet his lips, my movements are awkward and my forehead clips his nose. I feel a sharp crack.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I say, stepping back to give him some space as my hand flies over my mouth.

“It’s ... okay.” Stephen’s words contain a hint of venom and something dark flashes in his eyes. It looks like there’s a drop of blood on the rim of his nostril.

I struggle to walk forward, my legs swaying from left to right. It’s as if I’m having some sort of out-of-body experience. God, I’m drunk. So very drunk. Why did I take all those shots?

Stephen grabs my arm and leads me toward a dark corner of the club. He spins me so the wall is to my back and steps into my space.

I force a smile against my growing nausea and lean into him. I’m trying to tell myself not to ruin this moment, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep myself together. My eyes dart around the club looking for Jenna and Wendy, but I can’t spot them. Just strangers, everywhere, sweaty and reeling.

“What do you do for work?” Stephen’s question pulls me from my search.

“Oh, I’m a student still. I graduate in May.”

Stephen’s lips brush against my ear. “What do you study?”

“Um, accounting.” The words barely come out as a whisper, the body contact stealing my voice.

Stephen chuckles, but something is off in the tone. Something sinister. The hairs on my neck prick for a moment and my hands slip to Stephen’s chest to push him back a little, giving me some space.

But Stephen doesn’t move.

“I need a little air. I’m going to find Jenna or Wendy and step outside for a bit,” I say.

Stephen steps closer until he’s pressing me flush against the wall. With his finger, he lifts my chin so that my gaze meets his. “Annie, you aren’t going anywhere.”

Adrenaline floods my system. My heart pumps and beats like it’s trying to escape. My body wants to run fast for safety, but instead I remain where I am. Adrenaline surges so fast I almost vomit, saliva thickening in my throat, and beads of sweat trickling down my brow.

I don’t feel sexy anymore. I feel like throwing up and crying, not necessarily in that order.

I take a deep breath to calm myself. Maybe Stephen didn’t mean it the way I took it. Maybe the alcohol is causing me to panic. I mean, what can he really do? We’re in a club with hundreds of people. Hundreds of witnesses. He’s not going to kill me, for crying out loud.

But still, something doesn’t feel right. I need to get away.

“Stephen, please. I feel sick. I drank too much.”

There’s a twinkle in his eyes, and he smiles wide, too wide. All his teeth show, as if he’s a predator