Immigrant girl

Chapter 18. Anya.

His confident voice with a British accent was greatly irritating. I lay on the floor, surrounded by people from the Russian and Mexican mafia, with armed individuals and an FBI special agent standing over me. I wanted to burst into laughter; it was almost impossible to believe how absurd the situation was.

"And so, dear ladies and gentlemen, I believe you all understand that you've found yourselves in an extremely unpleasant situation," the agent walked between the people lying on the floor, his steps soft and almost silent. "I will tell you what will happen in the next couple of hours. Right now, you'll all be searched, and after that, you can get up from this cold floor and get more comfortable. The club will be searched. Some of you will be free soon, while others will have to stay, and we'll have a pleasant time with us." His feet stopped next to me. "The staff will have to stay as well." I felt his gaze on me.

Now, this was bad. I'm an illegal immigrant, getting caught by the FBI in a club run by the Russian mafia where I work unofficially is just the cherry on top. Best-case scenario, I'll get deported; worst-case, I'll end up behind bars, and likely for a long time. A hurricane of thoughts raged in my head.

Above me, a male voice spoke, "Ma'am, please extend your arms forward and don't move. I'll conduct the search, and then you can stand up. Do you understand?" The man in full gear stood over me, waiting for my response.

"Yes," I said in a hoarse voice.

I felt the strong hands move along my arms, then she ran them along my back and waist, and finally, down my legs. The man pressed hard on my ribs and I shrieked uncontrollably at the sharp pain.

At the same moment, I felt the heavy gaze of icy blue eyes on me. I turned my head slightly and Alex and I locked gazes. His face was flushed with anger and his pupils glowed with a fiery storm. I shook my head slowly, warning him not to do anything stupid.

"Get your fucking filthy hands off her you piece of shit." Goddamn it Alex what the fuck are you doing!The SWAT guy froze for a moment, I heard a chuckle and his hands moved closer to my ass. Fuck.

"You're a dead man walking," Alex growled. "You're fucking dead."

"One more threat Dovlatov and you'll be spitting your teeth out on your fucking expensive floor" the SWAT fighter calmly muttered. 

"Ma'am, you can stand up," my body was so stiff that I struggled to get to my feet. "Please move to the bar and await further instructions."

I made my way to the bar on wobbly legs, where Ingrid and Andrey were already standing. They had the calmest expressions, giving the impression that they'd been through this before. I sat on a barstool and began massaging my ribs.

Alex, Caleb, Mendez, and Fernando were still lying on the floor. It was a rather strange sight. They were the most powerful people I knew. But, as we know, there's always a force greater than other force. The law of life. Special Agent Davis stood at the other end of the room, and I felt his gaze on me. I raised my eyes and looked back. His lips formed a slight smile, but his eyes remained serious. Goosebumps ran down my spine. He was terrifying, intimidating, and I wanted to hide from his piercing gaze.

The agent approached Alex and the others and ordered the search to begin. I watched in horror as one of the SWAT team members forcefully searched Alex. I saw the pain on Alex's face as he winced when one of the operatives struck his back. Perhaps he was injured because the hit was genuinely hard. Was this even legal? Wait, what was I thinking? For the Feds, they were nothing more than criminals. I think they could have easily shot someone, and no one would ask for explanations.