Sasha: A Dark Mafia Romance (Belles & Mobsters)
Sasha: Chapter 33

“Remember our last outing to The Eastside Club?” Juliette snickered. Autumn and I stood by the bar, waiting for our drinks. Basilio DiLustro owned The Eastside, although from what I understood Liam Brennan owned it last year.

“You think Bas barricaded the safe?” Davina mused teasingly.

A round of snorts came from Wynter, Davina, Ivy, and Juliette. They were younger than Autumn and me, as well as the other women who’d come to my bachelorette party.

“He said they don’t keep cash there anymore,” Wynter remarked.

Autumn and I shared a confused look. The four girls snickered and Davina, Liam’s very young wife, must have caught our confusion.

“We stole from the safe here a year ago,” she clarified.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, the three of us shook our asses on the bar,” Juliette remarked dryly. “As a distraction, while Davina was getting caught in there. Her and my dad were probably doing the hanky panky. Some sexual freak show.”

Autumn promptly spit her non-alcoholic beverage all over me while the girls rolled their eyes. I groaned, then grabbed napkins off the bar and wiped my sparkly short dress.

“Don’t pay attention to Jules,” Wynter remarked. “She’s still bitter that Davina didn’t reveal we sucked as robbers right away.” She slid a glance her way. “And most of all, she’s pissed off she got on Dante’s radar.”

“Dante can go fuck himself,” Juliette snapped.

“I’m pretty sure he’d much rather fuck you,” Ivy chimed in, her tone dry as gin. “You’re just making the chase thrilling for him.”

“Maybe she loves to be chased.” Wynter chuckled, studying her cousin with a knowing look. “Jules’ dirty talk to poor Dante backfired. Turns out, Dante’s filthy mouth and imagination is worse than hers.”

“Those two will never babysit my children,” Davina added, barely keeping her face straight. “Otherwise, I’ll have horny teenagers on my hands.”

Juliette glared at them, while the others laughed so hard, they thought they’d pee themselves. Ivy actually excused herself and ran to the bathroom.

Autumn and I smiled, entertained. Wynter and her friends were quite entertaining. Slightly reckless from what little I heard. But I could see the appeal. I still wanted to scratch Wynter’s pretty face, but reluctantly I had to admit, I wouldn’t be all into it. So she’d heal.

“So do you like Dante?” I questioned Juliette. “Will he be my brother-in-law?”

“Fuck no,” she growled. “There is nothing about him I like.”

The expression on her friends’ faces told me otherwise, but I didn’t question her. We’re all allowed some secrets.

“Why did you key his car and smash the windows?” Davina asked. “You only enticed him more.”

Juliette’s expression darkened. “Because the fucker kissed me.” Utter silence followed, and she added, “In a supply closet.”

Davina and Wynter burst into laughter. Wynter’s golden curls bounced, cascading over her shoulders. She looked pretty, in a short golden dress. The girl attracted glances from everywhere but she was oblivious to it. The only one she seemed to have eyes for was her dark, brooding husband, Basilio DiLustro.

Killian hinted that Basilio kidnapped Wynter and forced the marriage issue only four months ago or so. She didn’t seem terribly upset over it.

“Where would you have preferred he kissed you?” Davina asked, her voice full of humor.

“Not in a supply closet.”

“So you liked the kiss?”

“No,” she gritted. Even in the darkened bar, I could see Juliette’s deep blush. Poor girl.

“I would have slashed his tires,” I chimed in to help her. “Or maybe his dick.”

Juliette smiled, then snatched a bottle from the bar. “My sister-in-law knows what I’m talking about.” She poured two glasses and handed me one. “Bottoms up, sis.”

The two of us downed our drinks and I promptly coughed. “What the hell is this?”

“Irish whiskey.” Juliette clinked our glasses. “You can’t savor it. You just down it like you’re parched.”

And I did. That glass and the next.

“Take it easy, Branka,” Autumn warned. “Your wedding is tomorrow.”

The lights dimmed and suddenly the whole bar shook. I jumped backwards and found four half-dressed male dancers on the bar.

Suddenly the entire bar was riled up. All the women, some I knew, others I didn’t, stared at the men on the make-shift bar stage.

Juliette grabbed the other bottle of whiskey before it got smashed. “Can’t waste expensive booze,” she explained.

I didn’t want to burst her bubble, but I was pretty sure that was cheap booze.

Juliette Brennan. Killian’s sister. She was a bit on the wild side. Okay, a lot on the wild side. And she was best friends with Wynter Flemming. Oh, and they were cousins. How perfect!

God, this fucking world was too goddamn small.

Leaving Juliette to her booze, Autumn and I found a spot. Her eyes weren’t on the bar. She was never really interested in other men. Truthfully, the men didn’t appeal to me either, but I kept my fake smile on while my eyes hazed from the booze remained glued on the stage.

That Irish whiskey was stronger than anything I had drunk before, seeping through my bloodstream and slowly lightening the heavy feeling in my heart. My eyes roamed over Grace, Luciano’s wife, as well as Áine, Cassio’s wife. Mrs. Corbin was here too, although I couldn’t distinguish whether her expression was appalled or amused. Her eyes were definitely zoomed in on the male dancers.

I downed my glass of the bitter liquid. The liquor burned in my throat and my chest. One of the performers approached me with a crown, while dancing, his junk too close to my face, and sat the crown on my head.

“Bride-to-be,” he announced like nobody else in this bar knew it was me getting married. They came to my bachelorette party. But still I smiled.

“How perceptive,” I mused, grabbing my drink and downing it. All this was too much. I didn’t like it. Tomorrow was coming too fast.

“You’re beautiful,” he complimented, while never breaking the dance. Was he giving me a lap dance? I didn’t want it. “Your man is a lucky guy.”

His hand came to my hair. I shook it off. He thought it was me playing and reached out again as I scooted backwards, needing all the space I could get from this Chippendale. Why did people think those were so great? I didn’t particularly care for someone shaking their booty in my face.

My gaze pulled to the side by some invisible force and I froze. Piercing pale blue eyes glowed in the dark. My heart fluttered, then stopped beating all together. No, it couldn’t be. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them.

They were gone.

Jesus, now I was imagining things.

I shook my head and stood up, then announced, “Restroom time.”

Autumn chuckled. “I’ll go with you,” she offered.

My palm came up in the air, facing her. “No, no. I can do it,” I declared, my body swaying a bit. Turning on my heel, I headed in the direction of the bathroom. To my surprise, the guy followed me.

“What are you doing?” I questioned him.

“My job is to make you happy tonight,” he deadpanned.

I rolled my eyes. He was dedicated, I’d give him that. “I’m happy,” I told him. “Now go back to the other women so I can use the restroom in peace.”

Under the lights of the hallway that led to the bathroom, I could see dark shadows under his eyes. He was built strong, bulky but it was all off. I couldn’t quite figure out what I didn’t like about him.

His hand came to my hip and I pushed against him, cringing that I had to touch his bare chest. I’d have to bleach my hands now. Ugh.

“I really like my personal space,” I told him, my speech slightly distorted.

“I’ll fill your space.” Yuck. So gross. My grimace must have conveyed the message. “What? Already faithful to your husband?”

My gaze caught on someone walking down the hall. MMA build. Broad shoulders. Dark suit. He looked up, his eyes colder than a Siberian winter. My heart jumped into turbo mode and adrenaline rushed through my veins.

Pale blue eyes. My imagination wasn’t playing tricks on me.

My mouth opened, but before I had a chance to say a word, he snapped the neck of the Chippendale.

A loud thud. His body lay on the floor, his eyes still open and staring at me. In my drunken haze, I lifted my head to replace Sasha’s cold, angry gaze on me.

He clicked his tongue.

“My little kotyonok, what did I say about other men touching you?” he tsked.

“You don’t scare me,” I breathed.

A sardonic breath left him.

A shiver rolled through me as he stepped over the dead body. He pressed his lips against my ear, his big, strong body brushing against me.

“That’s your first mistake, kotyonok.” His hands took my wrists and shackled them above my head as he stared at me. Every fiber of my being was aware of his muscles pressing against me, my breasts pushing against his chest with every inhale and exhale. My whole body tingled.

My heart pounded in my ears. I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs. I didn’t think alcohol nor the dead body laying barely a foot from us had anything to do with it.

“Cancel the wedding.” His voice was black velvet, a dark threat suffocating me.

“No.”

His gaze was so cold, it froze the alcohol swimming in my veins. That was all I needed to sober up. Sasha.

“Cancel. The. Wedding.”

“No.” Stubbornness made people stupid. “I don’t want you.” Liar. My stupid body wanted him, but he was all wrong for me. He lied to me. He didn’t wait for me. He didn’t choose me first.

He lightly grasped my throat and a tremor rolled through me. Hot. Exhilarating. His mouth moved against mine.

“He will never have you.” The conviction in his voice should have been my warning. Instead butterflies fluttered through my veins at his words. My only excuse was that alcohol still lingered in my cells.

“I claimed you,” –his voice was a dark rasp, full of promises, “and I’m going to keep you.”

Someone called my name, but there was nobody in our vicinity.

Without warning, Sasha took a step back, and turned away from me, heading towards the exit sign.

“Get some sleep tonight, Branka. You’re gonna need it.”

He didn’t even look back as he said those words.

“Oh my gosh,” Juliette exclaimed, her eyes darting between me and the body just a few feet away from me.

“What the fuck happened here?” Basilio DiLustro muttered. Right behind him were Wynter, Ivy, Davina, and Autumn.

“He’s dead,” I said, my voice strangely calm. “He just collapsed.”

Autumn’s eyes bore into me but I avoided looking at her.

“Jesus,” Basilio muttered. “Did he collapse before or after his neck was snapped?”

Oh, shit.

My eyes lowered to the body. How in the hell could he tell his neck was snapped? Maybe the weird angle of the neck. Christ. Sasha shouldn’t have killed him.

Everyone’s eyes drilled into me, burning a hole into my skull. Masking my expression, I inhaled, then raised my head to meet everyone’s face.

“I didn’t realize his neck was snapped.” I acted innocent, blinking my eyes at them, feigning confusion.

Autumn and Basilio eyed me suspiciously but neither one of them said a thing.

A blond guy joined us, whistling and giving the dead body a kick. “This one’s dead.”

“Priest, don’t kick the body,” Wynter scolded him softly. “It’s disrespectful.”

“Sorry, Sis.”

I sighed, done with this bachelorette party.

“I think it’s time we call it a night,” I told everyone, my eyes on Autumn. “I need my beauty sleep, you know.”

Maybe I’d convince Autumn that we could have our Friday movie night.

One last time.