Leveled: A Novella (Saints of Denver #0.5)(87)

Vik spoke matter-of-factly, “Yeah, but it’s not like he still doesn’t want to slice Sasha up into chopped liver.”

I was in full agreement. “We haven’t talked about it much, but I’m sure he does.” I glanced at Sasha before turning my eyes away, wanting to make my point in perfect calm. “What Sasha did to his face changed him. He’s a shell of the person he used to be.” I shrugged. “I don’t really blame him for wanting revenge, to be honest.” A shiver went through me. “Can you imagine how that must feel? To have your wife cheat on you with not just another man, but a rival, then to have to wear those scars forever, reminding you daily of something you’d rather not recall?” Silence passed through the group. “He can’t forget it, no matter how hard he tries.” I spoke quietly, “What Sasha did won’t let him.”

The silence encompassed the group for a short while as we sipped our drinks in quiet. But soon enough, Vik had us laughing about something stupid, and when Lev joined me in the pool, carrying me on his back, I was quickly reminded this unlikely group of people meant something to me. I might not have a complete family, but I was a Scarfo by blood and a Leokov in my heart.

I felt safe in the knowledge that I had more family than what I started with.

And Lev was more than that.

He was home.





Chapter ThirtyEight

Sasha

She stood by the bar, head down, hiding in plain sight. Her wavy auburn hair trailing down her back in soft waves. Her tall curvy body a living fantasy. One that made my life absolute hell.

She was beautiful. Exquisite. Not like the other girls I’d had in my bed.

Anika Nikulin was elegant.

Anika Nikulin was stunning.

She was graceful.

I made a deal with Viktor when we were teenagers…my sister for his. He had yet to make his move with Nastasia, but I was tired of waiting for Anika.

Making my way to the bar, I stepped in close. Too close. Her near bare body brushing my front. And yet, I leaned in closer, wanting to feel the full heat of her back against my chest.

She turned, eyes wide, glancing down my body. “What are you doing, Sash?”

I couldn’t help myself. My hands came up to rest on either sides of her small waist. “I can make you forget him,” I muttered. My thumb ran over the elastic of her bikini bottoms. “I can make you forget he ever existed, Ani.”

And I meant it too. Lev didn’t want her. He had Mina. Her time to make a move was over. Lev was happy now. She missed out.

She glanced up at me through lowered lashes. Her melodic voice soft, she uttered a regretful, “You were never competition, Sasha. Not next to him.” She glanced over my shoulder, and from the way her eyes turned warm, I f*cking knew she was watching him.

Jealousy screamed through me. I hated that she loved him.

She looked back up at me, reaching up to gently squeeze my forearm as she murmured, “You never even came close.”

When she took her drink and walked back to the deck chair, she lay down, her eyes discreetly watching my brother.

And there it was. The woman I loved held a torch for my brother. Figures.

It didn’t matter though. I would use every weapon in my arsenal to have her. Anika would be mine.

I f*cking vowed it.





Chapter ThirtyNine

Mina



Shopping with Birdie at a prop shop had been…well…interesting, to say the least. Halfway through our shopping expedition, I was wide-eyed and stunned at the things one could find if they looked hard enough.

Who knew nipple pasties were available at lingerie stores? Or that tiny sailor costumes and fishnets were so readily obtainable?

Birdie knew—that’s who.

We left the mall with two shopping carts full of accessories, and Birdie had called the girls to meet us at the club after I’d asked Sasha for permission to meet there. Lev was busy working the books, but told me he’d meet me there later in the day.

We arrived at Bleeding Hearts just after two p.m. Most of the dancing girls had come, but two of them sent messages through the others that they weren’t able to make it. Birdie was kind of pissed at that. She warned me that Sofia and Martina were kind of slack. She warned both girls that if they couldn’t perform the new routines, they’d likely be let go. Both girls treated the threat with an aloofness that stunned me.

Didn’t they realize they were at risk of losing their jobs? I was shocked they didn’t seem to care.

Sasha watched from the sidelines as we unveiled the first box of props. Out came feathered fans, vintage silken fans, garters, feather boas, top hats, satin face masks, a large box of nipple pasties, satin gloves, retro white crocheted parasols, ostrich feathers of all colors, leather whips, and thin walking sticks, and the girls went wild.

A small woman named Lilah came forward, touching the feathers with a smile on her face. “Wow. They’re so soft.”

A green-eyed girl called Petra grinned as she picked up a lace garter. “And so feminine.”

A tall African-American woman I knew as Shonda wrapped a feather boa around her neck. “Would you look at this stuff? Mmmm hmmm. I am liking this.”

The rest of the girls came around to view the items we’d pulled out, and I counted eight women. I sighed mentally. It might be enough for opening night, but some of these girls worked part-time. If Sofia and Martina didn’t show up, we were going to be in trouble.