Chapter 4: Hidden Heir: Chapter 4

“Is it done?”

Hearing those three words from my father, Kreik Koval, erases the past thirty-eight years of my life. Suddenly, I’m nine years old staring at his back with my report card hidden behind my own. The weight of his expectations have been crushing ever since I was old enough to feel it, but he’s done great things for our family and every other Russian family underneath our belt. His way works.

So, when he stepped down from the role of Pakhan six months ago and passed the Koval legacy onto me, I knew he would be far from a silent partner. People may look to me for leadership and guidance now, but all of it is done under my father’s watchful eye.

He’s retired on paper only.

“Yes,” I say with my hands clasped behind my back. While my wide-legged stance may appear relaxed, I’m as tense as a tightrope waiting for my father to look at me. “I have it in writing that the family I reached out to in Canada has secured us several trade routes. Our stock from Europe will dock in Canadian harbors, away from the prying eyes of the cartel, and then be escorted south where our people will take over the trucks at the border. I’ve placed several of our own members into the customs route there, so only our people will be checking the trucks to keep up appearances. It will also serve as a checkpoint to ensure none of the cargo being brought over has lessened in quality.”

My father doesn’t reply. He remains stationary with his head down. Behind him, the subtle tinkle of ice hitting glasses reaches my ears.

“I have also managed to secure six more high-paying clients in the Middle East. The contact you put me in touch with is very eager for us to secure virgins by the time Summer rolls around, and given the state of this country…” I chuckle softly. “I told him we can guarantee it and I already have scouts in every university within a two-thousand-mile radius.”

“They want American?” my father asks.

“Yes,” I reply. “Apparently they have lost faith in the European market and believe Americans to be better quality. I will gift them some European meat to show them how we ensure quality regardless of the country.”

This is big. I know this is big. My father was trying to secure trust with Middle Eastern clients for years, but there was always something in the way, usually their desire to claim their own product from Europe. It had taken me a little less than a month to pollute their deliveries and make them think that the quality of people coming from Europe were no longer up to their standards.

The fact that they now trust us is huge but I don’t feel the victory. I won’t until my father confirms it. My entire life hangs on his every word. Every deal I secure doesn’t feel like a success until he confirms that it is, because that’s how he raised me. He’s given me his life, protected me, earning my loyalty and trust. He may not be Pakhan anymore but his word is still law.

My father finally moves, turning away from the liquor cabinet and approaches me with two glasses in hand. Each contains a sphere of ice and what I presume to be Vodka given that he drinks nothing else. Stopping just in front of me, he scans my posture, and I instantly straighten my shoulders.

“Impressive, Leontiy. This is a good deal.” He hands me one of the glasses, then knocks them against one another. “I am glad you took me seriously about the Middle East.”

Tension eases from my shoulders like warm dough resting in a bowl and I finally smile. “Your advice is key to our success,” I respond, taking a short, sharp swig of the Vodka. The lack of taste speaks to its quality but the burn is sharp all the way down my throat.

“Your success,” my father corrects, sounding as if he truly means it. “I am, after all, retired.”

If I were bolder, I would joke that he’s still too much in control to be retired, but our hierarchy doesn’t allow for such teasing. My father would likely see it as an insult, and I’m not brave enough to face his wrath right now. But he appears in a good mood, especially when he smiles after his drink, so I shift my weight from leg to leg as I contemplate the success of voicing my next idea.

“Speak.” My father seems to catch on that I have more to say, and his order comes as he moves back around his desk and sinks into the deep leather chair.

“The Japanese Yakuza,” I begin. “They have a growing presence in the states and I think we should do something about that. If we formed a strong alliance with them, that could give us a foothold in the East. It would open up access to Australia and beyond, which can only bolster us given the tourists ripe for the⁠—.”

“No.”

I stop talking and stare at him. My father’s word is law and it always has been. But the Yakuza is something I’ve been working on for a few weeks and being unable to present my full idea leaves me feeling incomplete and frustrated.

“No?” I ask cautiously, knowing I’m risking opening a dangerous can of worms by questioning my father.

“Now is not the right time,” he says, lifting his gaze from the book in front of him. “Therefore the answer is no.” He then looks away, signaling the conversation is over.

As the Pakhan, if I choose to act then I am able to. I have thousands of men at my command and hundreds of families ready to obey me at the drop of a hat. We have the most successful human trafficking business in the world and are richer than the Irish with their drugs. My family name, Koval, is a household name and the Yakuza would be right to fear it.

But my father said no, so that idea is dead.

I dip my head, finish my drink, then walk out of the room with my bodyguard, Rik, on my tail.

“So?” Rik presses as we stride through the mansion. “Did you tell him about the Yakuza?”

“Yep.”

“And?” There’s hope in Rik’s eyes. He’s protected me for years and he’s always been a good ear for any problem or idea I’ve needed a trusted source to bounce off of.

“He said no.”

“What?” Rik’s loud response catches the attention of some of the guards that line the halls, and a few curious glances are shot our way as we walk.

“He said no and that’s all there is to it.”

“Did he say why?”

“Of course not,” I scoff. “But he has his reasons and they’re always good ones. Now is not the time.”

Rik rolls his eyes and tugs slightly at his tie. “Did he even listen to your entire idea?”

“No.”

“Then how does he⁠—”

“Rik,” I snap. “He said no. So it a no. I’ll just have to come up with something else.”

“So when the Yakuza appear on our doorstep with their insane chemicals and guns, what do we do then?” Rik mutters.

I stop dead in my tracks. “Are you doubting him?”

The irritation on Rik’s face melts away as he stops next to me. He shakes his head. “No sir.”

“Good. Then bring the car around. The news about the Middle East was well received and I want to celebrate.”

There are few places in this city where I can go without being recognized. As the son of Kreik Koval, I’m known by association in our circles, but many of my father’s enemies have a habit of placing a very public eye on him. The most recent being a drawn-out murder trial my father has been a part of for the past three months. We could have used our connections to get him off immediately, but my father likes these things to play out so he can prove how untouchable he is.

It has jolted us right into the public eye, so we have to navigate our criminal empire with even greater care. I have to be extra careful when out in public and tonight is no different. I want to get drunk and celebrate. Rik becomes extra diligent as my shadow and we have multiple guards discreetly placed around the club to keep me safe. They are excellent at what they do and I don’t spot a single one of them as I approach the bar for the third time and order another Vodka, neat.

The music pounds so loud that I can feel the vibrations in my breastbone, and the floor trembles beneath my feet. Fog fills the air as drunk, happy faces drift in and out of focus between the flashes of neon lights passing overhead. The bartender delivers my drink with a smile, and I yell for another round, making sure Rik gets included despite his vocal denial.

“I can’t protect you while I’m drunk!” he yells in my ear over the music.

“Tonight you are my friend, not my bodyguard,” I yell back, sliding the drink toward him. “So drink!”

“Not on your life!”

“There are several other sets of eyes on me,” I yell back. “Live a little!”

Rik rolls his eyes and finally accepts the drink as he mutters something into the communication button on his wrist. Then he drains the glass in one gulp and slams it down on the bar. “Another!”

We laugh and drink and dance.

Then I see her.

Like a bone snapping painfully into place, the sight of her throws my entire world off-axis as the noise of the club fades into the background.

A gorgeous woman whose beauty is so ethereal that she takes my breath away, pushes up to the bar and yells for the bartender. Her slender body is wrapped in a black latex dress that looks like it was poured onto her. Brown curls burst out of silver pins and cascade down her shoulders, and the fullest plum lips I have ever seen in my life pull into a beautiful smile.

Like a moth to a flame, I am instantly drawn to her. Rik’s hand on my arm grips tight as I start to move, but when he notices her a second later, he releases me.

I weave through the people between us until I’m next to her. Glitter sparkles on her bare shoulders. I notice a single drop of sweat as it rolls down her cleavage, disappearing between her breasts. She puffs out her cheeks with a loud ‘phew!’ and fans herself with her hand as a glass of red is placed in front of her.

“Let me get that!” I say, catching her wrist as she goes to pay. I bring my lips close to her ear so I don’t have to yell too loudly.

She turns to look at me and I’m utterly captured by her sparkling blue eyes. She smiles widely as her eyes drift down my body, taking in my half-open silver shirt and black slacks.

“Alright,” she replies. “I won’t turn down a free drink.”

“Excellent.” I pay with a tap of my wristwatch and she picks up her drink.

“Thank you!”

“Anytime.” I can’t take my eyes off her. “What’s your name?”

“Brooke. Yours?”

“Leon,” I reply, defaulting to my nickname. My real name draws too many questions over pronunciation and origin. “What brings you out tonight?”

“I’m celebrating!” Her smile widens. “You?”

“Also celebrating.”

“Oh really?” Her eyes widen and when she takes a drink, her lower lip glistens slightly. She slowly licks her lips and smirks. “What are you celebrating?”

“A work thing,” I reply vaguely. “You know how it is.”

“No way!” Brooke laughs. “Me too!”

“Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“No, for real!” When she laughs again, her hand lands lightly on my forearm. “I received some really good news and might be looking forward to going to work for the first time in my life.”

“That is good news,” I laugh. “If I say I’m doing the same, will you accuse me of lying?”

“No,” she giggles, “but I would say you should buy me another drink to celebrate.”

“I have a much better idea.”

“Pardon?” She tilts her head toward me, trying to hear me over the music.

I lean so close that my lips brush her ear and she shivers, moving into the small space between us. “I said I have a much better idea.”

“Which is?”

I can see her throat retract slightly as she swallows, and the sight of her long neck down to her bare shoulders and ample cleavage sends a wave of lust through my body.

“I’d much rather fuck you in that dress.”

“What?” Brooke laughs and her adorable cheeks immediately flare red.

“I apologize for being so forward but I’ve had a few drinks. I’m usually more subtle but you’re hot as fuck and I noticed the way you were looking at me. So what do you say?”

Brooke shoves at me with one hand, laughing, but her hand remains lingering on my shoulder. “That’s hardly the way to woo a woman!”

“True, but what if I told you I’d make you come so hard that everyone would hear you over the music?”

“A bold statement.” Brooke pouts and I growl softly, aching to taste those plump lips.

“Let me prove it,” I reply.

Her eyes narrow and she tilts her head to the side, elongating her neck. “Go on then.”

We stumble out in the back alley, pulling at one another’s clothes with our lips locked together. The first taste of those juicy lips was as divine as I suspected, and I can’t tear myself away. With my tongue in her mouth and one arm around her waist to guide her, we stumble down some steps before I shove her up against the brick wall. She gasps against my lips, breathing into my mouth while her hands claw at my neck and slide into my sweat-damp hair.

I don’t need to look to know some of the guards have subtly followed us and will block off the ends of the alley.

My focus is Brooke.

I break the kiss with a long suckle of her lower lip, then dip my head and burrow into her warm neck. My cock is aching in seconds, and the cool wind brushing past does nothing to calm the fever crawling over my skin. Biting at her neck, I press my tongue flat over her racing pulse. She moans loudly when I graze my teeth down to her shoulder. My hands roam her body, tracing the lines of her impossibly tight dress down to where it just covers her ass. In one sharp tug, I drag it upward, slapping her round, perfect ass firmly.

Brooke squeals and laughs, then tugs hard enough on my hair that I’m forced to abandon her neck and lift my head. She kisses me hard, biting into my lip until the skin splits. Pain lances through but it’s instantly soothed by her tongue. I pull away, flip her around, and shove her up against the wall.

She pushes back against me and I slap her ass again before kicking her legs apart. She’s shorter than me and I contemplate picking her up, but I have a much better idea.

Fisting one hand into her hair, I pull her head back and to the side so I can kiss along her neck. “I’m going to fuck you so hard I’ll have to carry you back inside.”

“Promises, promises,” Brooke pants, dragging her nails down the brick. “You’re all talk.”

“We’ll see about that.” I unzip myself, draw my cock out and spit on my hand. It’s all I can do to slick myself up in the heat of the moment, but when I drag Brooke’s panties to the side, my fingers come away slick. “You’re fucking soaked.”

“Like I said, you’re all talk,” she gasps, winking at me. “A few good words can get any girl riled up. Unless you can’t follow through because then I—, ahh!”

Her words die as I guide my cock and enter her in one powerful thrust. I shove in a few inches, then pull back and thrust in again. Relying on her soaked pussy to slick the way, I thrust into her an inch at a time. Each thrust punches a moan of delight past her lips. I bench my knees, align myself, and the next time I thrust into her, I enter her fully then straighten up. Brooke yells as she’s shoved up the wall a few inches and her heels kick out. She can no longer touch the ground and a long, low moan escapes her when she realizes the only thing holding her up is my cock and my hands on her hips. She scrambles for a grip on the wall but unable to find one, she drops her hands to clutch at my wrists. Her shoulders brace against the wall and I chuckle as her legs kick out.

“Don’t drop me!” she says desperately. “Holy shit, you’re so deep…”

“I’ve got you,” I assure her, using my bulk to press her into the wall. “Now, scream for me.”

The first few rapid thrusts as I pound hungrily into her only make her gasp, but soon each thrust of my cock must be reaching every delicious, hidden nerve inside her because Brooke screams. She curses and moans, screams and yelps, and her fingernails draw blood from my wrists, but I don’t stop. I fuck her with all the power I hold in my hips as gravity keeps bouncing her back down onto my cock where she belongs. It’s hard and messy, my hips slamming against her repeatedly like a punch, and she’s clinging on for the ride.

Our moans mingle with the slick slap of flesh and she pants wildly, growing hoarse from her wild screams of pleasure. My thrusts grow harder as I rapidly draw closer to my orgasm, and by the way her pussy pulses around my cock I’m guessing she’s just as close.

Three more thrusts and I come with a growl, sinking my teeth into the meat of her shoulder. She squeals in pain then dissolves into breathless moans while her pussy clamps down around my cock. She comes hard, her entire body trembling in my grip, and I rock my hips upward, pumping my cum as deep into her as I can reach. I hold her close until her trembling stops and she’s a panting spent mess in my arms.

“Fucking hell,” Brooke gasps. “Do you always fuck that hard or is it the alcohol?”

“Call me when you’re sober and we can find out,” I say, nuzzling into her neck and then very slowly setting her back down on the ground. As my softening cock slips from her heat, she stumbles slightly and moans.

“You know, I’m not so sure they heard us over the music.” She looks up at me through her dark lashes. Her lipstick is smeared, her cheeks red from flushing and being pressed against the wall.

“No?” I say, cupping her cheek and brushing a stray tear from her lashes.

Brooke smirks. “Wanna go again?”