**Trigger Warning**
Story contains abuse, violence and other triggers. All use of images are for entertainment and in no way meant to reflect on the real people.
Mya is a 17-year-old girl on the cusp of womanhood when her mother gets married to Mas...
"Tell them this is a permanent hire if they want it. But they get thirty million, fifteen upfront for the job in Russia. If they choose to stay on, they can get a twenty percent take on any future jobs." Borya says in my ear.
I relay the message, and the faces of the men vary at the mention of my number.
"That's a lot of money, when we got invited to this meet up we knew big money was involved. But this is a lot, even if it's split up five ways. What kind of job requires that many men or that kind of pay out? We usually only handle mob related hits. In all that time, no one has ever offered that kind of payday," he says, sceptical of my offer.
"Well, Mr... what's your name?"
"Eric," he says dryly.
"Well, Eric, this is the kind of job men like you either run from or go all out. The person I want to send a message to is powerful and well respected. He's the head of an entire nation. For now, that's all you need to know."
"I thought I told you; we only handle mob related hits. Leaders of countries and nations are off limits to people like us. That is, unless said target is directly affecting mob business," Eric says.
"Besides that, girl, we can't exactly be sure of your motives. Your partner isn't here, and he sent a woman to this place to give us vague information. A black one at that. What is it you think you can accomplish on your own?" One of the other men questions.
I look over at him with his blonde hair that he's combed over and his light goatee.
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[Caleb Federov]
He is one of the most beautiful men I have ever laid my eyes on. Staring at him, I wonder why I didn't notice him before. Still, he's a prick, like most of the men in my life. So, if I'm going to survive this life, I'm going to have to show them I'm not to be taken lightly.
"My pussy has nothing to do with my ability to recruit a bunch of middle-aged men to do a job. My motives are to get the best men for said job. If you don't like me being here, I can get my black ass up and leave. Regardless, I'll still have ten million in my account, can you say the same?" I fire back at him in a calm voice.
I raise an eyebrow at him, and he laughs hardily before taking a gulp of his brown liquor. He slams his glass down on the table before he burps.
"I like your attitude. Fine, I'm on board. No real questions asked. Just tell me how many men you need," he says sweetly, before winking at me.
"First things first gentlemen, I'd like to see the men you're going to provide."
"The nerve of this one! Seriously. You barely give any details on the job, but want to see the goods before we even see any money?" One of the other men asks.
I raise one eyebrow at him and tilt my head as if his attitude took me aback.
"You don't have to show me your men and you don't have to get any part of the ten mill," I say, putting my hands up to show how much I don't care.
