Damien: A Billionaire Bad Boy Mafia Romance (The Volkov's) by Ava Bloom

Author:Ava Bloom [Bloom, Ava]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three — Andrei

I looked around the mostly-empty bar, feeling disappointed even though, rationally, I knew that it was a Wednesday night and it wasn't a surprise for things to be so empty. All the locals would have been out at Apollo on Monday and Tuesday, and everyone would be gearing up for Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights in the rest of the city. Wednesdays were usually pretty quiet.

Still, after seeing Ritmo so busy over the weekend, I couldn't help feeling that the place seemed even more strikingly empty that night.

Sarah was on the bar again that night, and I wondered if she worked every night. She seemed to be there every night that I was, anyway. If so, it was no wonder that she'd been so worried when I'd threatened her job the other night: she must really be desperate if she was willing to put up with drunken shenanigans every night. I'd never even seen her have a drink on the job.

I wondered if she thought she wasn't allowed to drink on the job.

I hopped up on one of the stools at the counter, watching as Sarah cleaned some glasses. “What's your story anyway?” I asked her.

Sarah looked startled, her hands pausing where they were wiping one of the glasses dry. Slowly, her hands started moving again.

She had nice hands, I realized, and I could picture them running down my body, stroking my member… I broke off that line of thought before it was fully-fledged. Was Sarah hot? Definitely. I had a thing for a woman in sky-high heels, especially a woman who could work, for hours at a time, in sky-high heels. But the whole reason I'd had to do inventory the other night was still stuck in my head, and I remembered Uncle Evgeni's warning about how business and pleasure didn't mix. Sure, I didn't own Ritmo, but I was there often enough that I didn't need to make things awkward.

Even if I didn't plan on ever having to do inventory with Sarah again.

“I'm a student at the university,” Sarah finally said cautiously.

“I thought you were older than that,” I said in surprise. It was a stupid thing to say; maybe she'd just taken time off before starting school.

Sarah laughed, though. “I'm a grad student,” she said.

“Why Barcelona?” I asked. It wasn't exactly that I was curious, but talking to her was a way to pass the time until someone better came along or until I gave up the hunt for someone to warm my bed that night.

Sarah shrugged and looked off to the side, and I got the feeling she wasn't telling me the truth when she said, “Beaches and boys, that's what everyone wants in their college experience, right?”

I frowned at her, but I didn't feel like prying to find out what the real reason was. I drummed my fingers against the bar.

“I wouldn't have thought you'd be talking to me,” Sarah said suddenly.

I cocked my head to the side. “Why not?

She shrugged. “You were pretty rude the other night.

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