have it all if you want.”
K’s stomach growls in hunger, but she remains as quiet as a church mouse, only gasping when my desperateness to show her not all men are pieces of shit sees me placing an order for one of everything on the menu. I might be an asshole, but not even the hardest gangster could look at someone as frail as K and not offer them a bite of their sandwich—not even Nikolai. You’d have to be completely heartless not to feel some kind of remorse, and mine is ten times worse since I knew the game Vladimir was running, and I didn’t do anything about it.
Yeah, I could be accused of treating the whores at Clarks like shit, but they’re there because they want to be there. K and the women currently being transported to Clarks never had a say in the matter. Even pimps treat their hookers better than Vladimir treated his captives.
The bills I toss to the cashier at the window haven’t been laundered, but since I don’t see much of it landing in the cash register, I’m not worried.
With my order obsessive, I anticipate for my car to be full to the brim with bags of greasy food. It would be if I didn’t tell the cashier to hold all the drinks bar two. I can’t guarantee K won’t hurl the instant one of the burgers reaches her stomach, so I’ll keep her drink selection to plain ole’ bottled water.
“Are you going to eat something?” I ask K after tossing the final bag of food into the back of my car and recommencing our trip.
I don’t get words, but she does shake her head. Her response frustrates me more than the whore who took herself for a ride on my cock yesterday morning. I’m finally capable of doing a good deed, but the person I’m testing the rarity out on doesn’t want my help.
What the fuck?
“Why not? You’re hungry, aren’t you?” A tick impinges my jaw when a reason behind her hunger strike pops into my head. “You won’t be expected to repay me for the meal. You don’t owe me shit. I can get my dick sucked without handing over a dime, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
I don’t know whether to be pleased or pissed when she continues clutching several grease-laden bags in close to her chest. I’m glad she isn’t holding back because the idea of sucking my cock repulses her enough she’d rather starve, but still, I wish she’d eat something. Just looking at me is making me hungry, and no, I’m not solely referring to the feast only women can serve me.
K’s breaths come out ragged when I pull my car down the long driveway of the Popov compound. People usually drool over the thirty-plus room mansion. K looks far from impressed. She’s more panicked now than she was when she spotted my gawk from afar forty minutes ago.
Her worry is warranted. P’s is elaborate, but no amount of glamor can mask the scent of desecration.
The same can be said for my aftershave.
I angle my head to hide my smirk while saying, “I need to drop something off real quick. You can come with me or stay here…” My words trail off when K tugs bags of food in closer to her chest, denying my request without words. “Alright. I’ll be back in a tick. Don’t go anywhere.” My last comment was more in jest than a demand. Manned guards are on every corner of P’s. Even if she wants to run, she won’t get far.
After slipping out the driver’s seat, I hotfoot it up the side entrance most of the once-whores-now-maids use. Just as I reach the foyer, Nikolai and Justine enter from the other side. Considering she was sold tonight to a bunch of worthless pricks with more money than sense, she looks well put together… if you exclude her out-of-control body shakes.
The same can’t be said for Nikolai. He looks a little lost—kind of like me. A weird sensation is bristling in the air. It could be because a new monarch just seized his throne as my brother tried to do years ago, but in all honesty, it feels more than that. It’s a strange sensation but highly addictive.
I stop at Rico’s side just as he offers for Nikolai to leave business to us. “Go take care of Justine. Trey and I will get everything under control down here.”
My lips quirk into a smile,