It had been three days since the last time I saw Milo or his men. Every single hour that passed put me on edge. I wanted him to do what he wanted with me and just disappear from my life as soon as possible.
However, something told me it wasn't that easy–Milo wasn't that easy.
I thought dinner with Zoya would distract me but all it did was make her worry for me. The last thing I wanted was to bother my best friend with my problems.
"Are you okay?" Zoya asked. "If it's money problems I told you not to hesitate to come to me for help."
Zoya was a Bratva princess. Her family was one of the few mafia families in Russia. We went to high school together and hit it off from there. I never understood why she liked me so much.
Especially because we were worlds apart. She was filthy rich and I was very poor. My home had dysfunctional parents while hers had a power couple that cared for her. She was the only reason I dated Ivanov, Milo's son.
Ivan and Zoya were friends and when she introduced us, he saw an opportunity to piss off his father. I was too mesmerized by the attention he was giving me to realize he was only using me to get under his father's skin.
He knew Milo would never approve of us dating. He knowingly put me in a situation where I would be humiliated and belittled just to piss someone off. Ivan was incredibly self-centered.
It had been two years since I saw him. We only dated for a month before we broke up and it was very messy. So messy that Zoya cut off all ties with him and never spoke to him again.
For some reason, Milo and Ivanov never got along. I always wondered why but I never cared enough to ask.
"Earth to Em!" Zoya called as she snapped her fingers in front of my face. "Something is bothering you. Don't be embarrassed to ask me for anything. You're my best friend."
I gave her a tight smile and lightly shook my head.
"It's nothing serious. Papa has pissed off some dangerous people but he's handling it. I'm just a little worried."
Liar.
I couldn't tell her the truth. Unfortunately, Milo was untouchable and there was nothing anyone would do to save me from him. I didn't want her to worry about something she couldn't change.
This was my burden to bear and it was my burden alone.
"Tell me who he's in bad graces with and I'll talk to my Papa about it."
"Unfortunately, you can't help," I said to her. Then I grabbed her hand and said, "Relax. We can handle this one on our own."
She didn't look convinced but she dropped the issue. She knew I wouldn't tell her because I had already decided that I would handle the matter on my own.
Before she could protest, my alarm rang. It was time to go to work.
"I have to go," I told Zoya before grabbing my purse and getting up.
She grabbed my hand to stop me from leaving, "You don't have to work at that shitty bar. You deserve so much better than that."
I pursed my lips and looked away. She didn't understand why I worked odd jobs because she was born wealthy. She wanted me to take her free money and live a comfortable life.
She even offered me a job at her parents' company. However, that was an offer I wouldn't take. I didn't want their dirty money. Her family distributed drugs and hurt those who made mistakes.
They worked for Milo and their wealth was stained with blood.
That was yet another reason I couldn't stand the thought of being owned by Milomir Petrov. He had blood on his hands. The thought of those hands touching me didn't sit well with me.
Yet another lie I tell myself…
"I can handle myself, Zoya. I want to work for everything I will have."
"You will have nothing if you keep working at that shitty bar!" She yelled as she breathed heavily. I could tell she was angry at me. "Think this over. We'll talk tomorrow morning."
She got up as well and forced me into a hug. Sometimes she could be a bit controlling.
"My answer will remain the same," I told her. It was better she knew upfront instead of thinking there was any hope of accepting her help. "I don't know why you're forcing me."
"I'm sorry…"
It was always like that with her. Ever since I found out what happened between her and Ivan, she overcompensated with gifts, surprises, opportunities, and job offers.
"We'll talk later…"
I left and hurried to work. I was already late. When I got there, the club was packed and boisterous. Distant chatter, loud music, and the distinct sound of laughter covered the room.
I rushed to the locker room and changed into my skimpy uniform. I tried to pull it a few inches down like I did every single night. Not that it did anything to make the attire better.
I pulled my ginger hair in a messy bun and lined my green eyes with black eyeliner.
I got to work immediately after–serving drinks and taking orders.
Thirty minutes into my shift, the club went silent, the music was shut off and everything just…stopped. I didn't understand why until I looked at the entrance. Milomir and his men were right there.
They had guns on their holsters, tattoos all over their bodies, and dangerous stares that were enough to make someone shake in fear.
Everyone was too scared to move. No one wanted to do anything that would make the scary men angry.
Milo's eyes scanned the room until they landed at me. When he stared for too long, I shook my head in hopes that he wouldn't approach me. Unluckily for me, luck was not on my side.
He walked up to me casually and said, "I want to talk to you."
"I'm working. You'll have to wait until the end of my shift. I don't want to get fired."
I saw darkness flash in his eyes and for a moment, I considered taking back my words. However, he grunted and walked away. I watched him sit at a table in a corner. He cracked a dark smile and waved me over.
"What are you waiting for? Come and serve me a drink."
The music returned along with the usual chatter. However, the air was still tense. With the reputation that man had, it was no wonder everyone was nervous when he was around.
"What would you like to drink, sir?" I asked with the most professional voice I could master.
"Vodka."
Milo was a hard man to understand. He rarely ever genuinely smiled, laughed, or talked to people. He was also rarely ever seen outside. To see a man like that in a downtown bar was weird.
After I brought him vodka, I went back to work. I tried to forget he was there but his eyes drilled into my back. I felt him watching me wherever I went. It was unsettling and reassuring at the same time.
For the first time, no man tried to spank or touch me inappropriately.
Unfortunately, I was too concerned with Milo to see where I was going. I accidentally tripped on someone's foot and poured drinks all over his clothes. I stared at the scene with wide eyes.
"You fucking bitch!" The man yelled and stood up. His breath stank of alcohol. "I will teach you a fucking lesson, whore!"
I tried to walk back but he had already raised his hand to slap me.