Part of Your World

Nothing Else Left

 "Go, I can handle the shipment," Nick hissed as my blood ran cold. I was about to protest, but he gave me his cocky smirk, jutting his chin toward the stairs.

"Who taught you everything you know about this business?"

I smirked, for he was right; my father knew how to run Russia. Nick knew how to run America. I rolled out my shoulders, jaunting down the steps and back into the pandemonium of the club, everyone's ecstasy reaching a fever pitch as the night wore on.

"Where is she?"

"Bar," he said, voice tense.

"I want her gone. You and Niko and Feliks, understand? No trace."

"On it," he said, voice taking on a gleeful note. He missed this game. Niko caught my eye from the dance floor, extracting himself from the statuesque beauty, placing a lingering kiss on her lips before falling into step beside me and Serg.

"How'd she get in?"

"Who?" Niko breathed.

"Nat."
"Fuck," he hissed.

"Feliks was on break."

"I swear to God almighty if he was drinking—"

I stopped my words short, catching sight of her, leaning against the bar, drink in hand, her gaudy purple dress so tight she would spill out of it with one wrong move. Her lips were plumper than last time—so round they looked like a fucking fish. Just seeing her enraged me.

It didn't take her long to notice my approach, her eyes fluttering, a sultry look overcoming her as she shoved aside the man that was practically humping her leg. My eyes narrowed, Mikhail's fiancé Alina on her other side.

"Get Alina out of here, for fuck's sake," I growled to Serg. He peeled away from me, gripping her arm with a hiss and steering her toward the front. Niko and I paused before Natalia, her gaze flickering for only a moment in fear. Something was wrong—she was much too calm to be here—in our presence—after what she'd done to disrespect me.

"I'll be generous enough to ask how you'd like to die, Natalia," I hissed, leaning into her face. Again, that flicker of fear—she knew I meant what I said. She replaced the look by a level of smugness only someone as petty as her could pull off. She flicked her long brown hair over her shoulder, crossing her arms.

"You can't kill me, baby," she pouted through thick lips. How I'd once found those attractive, I wasn't sure. It had turned repulsive in the blink of an eye for me. I snorted.

"I can, and I will."

She flicked her fake lashes up at me, so self-assured it made me want to vomit.

"It's bad manners to kill your fiancé, Maks."

My mind whirled, spinning, and before I could stop myself, I glanced at a stunned Niko. I grit my teeth, wondering what the fuck she was talking about. I turned back to her, her simpering grin widening.

"I'd rather castrate myself than marry the likes of you," I seethed. She snorted, rolling her eyes, and my palm itched to slap her. Her disrespect was becoming intolerable.

"Don't do that. We need babies someday," she said with a purr, stepping closer and jutting her fake tits out. I stepped away from her, her scent overwhelming, making my eyes itch.

"What the hell are you talking about, Natalia?" Niko interjected, getting to the point.

"Daddy wants a match. Turns out your father did, too. He wants you aligned with a traditional Russian family, not some American floozy—"