⋗ 𝖔𝖕𝖆𝖑 ⋖ 𝑏𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑦 ˣ 𝐹𝐹ᶰᶳᶠʷ

[Bunny]

𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑒, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓​ ❝Cigar smoke and some spicy scent tickled her nose as Taryn entered the main floor of Opal. The lights were lower, but bright enough that the men could easily read the paper, should they choose. It created a refined sort of ambiance that fit for a club like this one; in one word, elite. New York was an expensive city and filled with wealthy and discerning men. Opal wasn’t a gentleman’s club in the sense that there were women undressing on a stage. That wasn’t to say that the women were nuns in their clothing choices. However it was tasteful and from what Taryn understood it operated almost more like a high end brothel of sorts or perhaps an escort service. It was the money that had personally drawn her in. Eighteen and broke, short of selling her body, where else would she make this sort of money? Being one of the floor girls had appealed. Everly had recruited her and had nothing but good things to say about the men who frequented the club. Gentlemen who enjoyed spoiling a girl. Yeah, you might have to suck a few dicks and get railed, but that was just the way of things. A virgin, the idea of being with an older man, who knew his way around her body, appealed, Taryn wasn’t quite sure she was ready for that. Management had understood and with her bar-tending license, she had made for the perfect candidate for the recent opening Opel had. The heel of her shoes sunk into the plush carpet as she slowly made her way behind the bar. The four inches made her short legs look, well there was no other word for it, amazing. Little black velvet straps wrapped around her ankles, over the cashmere thigh highs stockings in the same color. That dark fabric rode her slender legs to mid-thigh and between the edge of them and the hem of her shorts were several inches of pale, creamy flesh. While she didn’t need to be half naked, it had been advised that she dress up for the position. It explained the short corduroy shorts that flared just below the swell of her ass and the black top that from the front looked modest. It covered her chest and arms, it even covered her collarbones. The back was more raring though, almost completely open with a small silken bow tied at the base of her neck. The fabric dipped so low that her entire spine was on display. A messy bun and simple, clean makeup completed the outfit. Taryn had never been a huge fan of makeup, but she did line her eyes to make the deep green of her eyes stand out in her pale face. Locks of honey blonde touching her shoulders in place and tickling the bow of her top. Taryn teased, with her outfit, giving glimpses of skin but nothing that pushed her toward the sort of things that Everly wore on the floor. An hour into her shift, she’d made close to a thousand in tips alone and was shaking a martini when someone new entered. Something about him wasn’t quite like the others. For one, most of the men were clean shaven in their smart little suits and ties. There was something more commanding about his outfit even though it seemed more relaxed. Then there were the tattoos on the side of his neck and on his hands and for a moment, Taryn wondered just how much of him was tattooed. A sweet blush touched her cheeks and she turned back to making the drink for the man before her. A smile offered to him as she poured the clear alcohol into a martini glass and topped it with an olive. “Enjoy.” Her voice was low, husky and she turned to Everly as she pranced up to her. Her top was a gauzy white, that while it hid her breasts slightly it barely did so. Her body was bare till you reached the flimsy strips of white fabric. “That is Dimitri!” She nodded to the new arrival. “Why don’t you bring him his drink. I will make a good impression.” The advice was sweet and her eyes flickered from the bubbly woman to the man who was moving to a plush leather seat. “He always gets a Black Czar.” Oddly enough, Taryn knew how to make it. “Though, be sure to use Russian vodka.” “Alright..” A Black Czar had vodka, khalua and a dash of creme de cacao. Served over ice with a luxardo cherry garnish in a highball glass. Deciding on Jewel of Russia vodka, Taryn mixed his drink and looked over at him before exhaling softly. He wasn’t the first that Everly had told her to make a drink for, but there was something about this man that seemed to draw her more than the others. Carpet prevented her heels from making any noise as she approached him with his drink on a small silver tray. “Evening. Everly asked me to bring your usual.” She lowered some, offering him the drink. In comparison, Taryn was tiny. Five feet without her heels, she was only five four in them. Her smile was shy and her green eyes lifted to meet his startling blue ones. Her mouth opened for a moment and her cheeks heated as he took the drink. The moment he had his drink, Taryn retreated like a coward. Happy that she’d at least not squeaked as he’d smiled at her. She was young, there was no doubt but she wasn’t some silly girl in high school for fucks sake…​

 

[Father Figure]

“Loyalty is earned, not given. But betrayal…betrayal is paid for in blood. Remember that before you ask me for trust.”​ ❝ Dimitri Petrov was the kind of man who commanded a room with his mere presence. He was built like a fortress, with the kind of strength that did not require flashy displays or unnecessary words. His frame was solid, but lean, the body of a man who had learned the value of endurance. His eyes blue eyes were unsettling, intense, as if he were constantly measuring everything and everyone around him. And rightly so, because tattooed into his flesh was a history replete with violence. A past that was deeply entwined with the Russian mafia, his blood almost as valuable as his loyalty. Born in St. Petersburg, in a city steeped in crime, this man had learned the rules of survival from an early age. His Uncle, a high-ranking member of the mafia, had taken him under his wing, teaching him everything he needed to know from how to read people to brutally carrying out orders to kill. By the time he was in his twenties, Dimitri had already earned a reputation as a man who could solve problems, and it was those skill in "persuasion" that had earned him respect, quickly rising through the ranks with a cold-blooded drive to excel. It was not long before his connections extended far beyond Russia, and he came to the States as a front man for the family. And it was easy to see why as Taryn got closer to him, his chiseled jaw and high cheekbones hinted at his Slavic heritage, hardened by a lifetime that had demanded ruthlessness. Dimitri was an animal wearing a suit. He leaned back in his chair, allowing the tiniest of smiles to touch his lips, just enough to reflect his mood but not enough to soften his edges as he observed the room through the haze of cigar smoke that deliberately hung around him. The flickering amber glow of the low lights kept his face a study in shadows. The polished ambiance of Club Opal suited him. Refined, yet with an edge that only the privileged could afford. Men who had earned their place through power, influence, and sometimes violence. And unlike the clean-shaven businessmen who dotted the room, Dimitri's tattoos made it clear that he belongs to a different sort of elite. There was a small entourage around him, enough to keep the area secure but not obtrusive. A man behind him, leaning against the wall with a watchful gaze. A couple of his muscle at a nearby table, not fit to sit with the boss who preferred to take his evenings alone. It was enough of an impression that it signaled not just anyone was welcome to get near Dimitri. He watched as Taryn approached him with her careful, timid steps, her green eyes wide as she blushed. There was no need to bother the young woman, though she certainly drew his eyes. Her hair gathered in a loose, honeyed bun. Young and delicate, and new by the look of it. Innocent maybe, but nobody stayed innocent for long once they started working at the Opal. His fingers reached out to take his drink noticing that there was the smallest tremor in her hands, and he deliberately raised the glass to her as he spoke. "Spasibo," he said. Letting the Russian word hang in the air, watching to see if she understood or simply let it pass. She was a tiny thing, but Dimitri never let down his guard simply because someone was small. Anyone could be killed, and even someone as diminutive as Taryn could be a killer with proper incentive. Taking a sip of his drink, he savored the cocktail, and as she began to step away, he interrupted her retreat with a suggestion. Though they both knew it was a well-dressed order. "You may bring me another, if you wish." His voice was low, almost a purr, as he leaned back again, his gaze driving away from her. Dismissive, but purposeful. A silent cue that he was not in control of her time and her attention.​

 

[Bunny]

𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑒, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓​ ❝Thank you. His accent was distinct and the word was one of the few Russian words she knew. “You are welcome,” the words were soft and as she turned to flee, he paused the retreat with a suggestion. It wasn’t really a suggestion, not by this man and not in a place like this. Taryn was young, decidedly so, but foolish? No. “Of course, sir.” And then she made her retreat. Her bare back offered to him as she moved back to the bar. The entourage that Dimitri had was not completely unusual but it also wasn’t quite the norm either. Other men came with a friend or two, maybe a woman on their arm. A few had bodyguards, but they too were more rare. Dangerous men were not all the same, but many held an air of it around them. It was something Taryn had learned early in life. Such lessons were never pleasant, how could they be? A wife beaten or an older brother thrown around? Scars were not always physical. Taryn though had both. Dimitri and his men had that sort of air around them. Something that just screamed.. Danger. It was the same with other bodyguards. Not many would see them for what they were, but a life of pain or violence could make the signs easier to pick up on An hour slowly slipped by and from time to time, he’d find her looking at him. Was she looking because she found him handsome? Was she an assassin? Was there something else that drew her eye? Two of the three were correct. First and foremost, she was waiting to see when he’d need another drink. Men here didn't seem like they’d like to wait and Taryn felt like great service was part of the parcel. The other half? Well, he was indeed a handsome man. She could have tried to deny it, but it would have been pointless. As he neared the end of his drink, she approached with another drink in hand. If she were smart, she might have tried to avoid him. To have Everly bring his drink or to have simply ignored the order. That would have been smart. Something that Taryn would have said she was. Smart enough to listen to the little voice in the back of her mind that told her that Dimitri was dangerous. After all, the most dangerous man was one who listens, thinks and observes. The quote came filtering back from some random bank of her mind. Bruce lee. With the way Dimitri observed the room, it was like a lord overlooking his fiefdom. The drink was offered and after a moment, she sat on the chair beside him. Everly had explained the way that Opal worked, and such a request was perhaps a request for some of her time as well. A leg curled under her rear, the other heel pressed to the floor. It wasn’t an elegant way to sit, but it was exactly who she was. “Vashe zdorov'ye” she offered, nodding to the drink, her smile shy. “One of the handful of things I know how to say in Russian,” she admitted, her hands folding in her lap. It had been made clear she didn’t have to sleep with any of the patrons, or else, Taryn wouldn’t have worked there, so she wasn’t nervous about that aspect at least. He was though, the first to ask for her company. ​

 

[Father Figure]

“Loyalty is earned, not given. But betrayal…betrayal is paid for in blood. Remember that before you ask me for trust.”​ ❝Dimitri took the fresh drink from the young woman’s hand, his blue eyes narrowing as he watched her settle beside him. The casual way she tucked one leg beneath her was a stark contract to the calculated elegance most women employed around him. It was certainly amusing. She was young, no doubt inexperienced in matters that filled his day-to-day world, but there was something about her natural honest and innocence. It was not naivety though; Dimitri would have bet on that. The young woman had seen hardship, and it was clear in the slight guardedness behind her shy smile. The salute she gave him rolled off her tongue with an endearing awkwardness, and Dimitri raised his glass in return, his expression unreadable, before taking a deliberate. If the man had considered her a threat to his life, would he have done so when stereotypically poison was a woman’s murder weapon of choice? Or was it more to the point that even if she was, he showed no fear in the face of her or others, laughing at Death. Proving that it had no power over a man such as he. In a way that was what the young woman was doing as well, confronting her nervousness, and sitting down next to an individual she certainly suspected to be dangerous. He could respect that. “To your health,” he replied in English, the Russian accent making it sound exotic, but as he spoke there was a brief pause and he reached into his suit pocket, drawing out his phone. “Stay, Keep me company,” he offhandedly said as he looked at his screen. It was not a request, it was an expectation, the tone leaving no room for misinterpretation. His behavior was off putting, but at least he was not dismissive of her. At least there was some show of consideration paid to the fact of her existence even if he dealt with something else. The glow of the screen reflected briefly in his cold, pale eyes as he scanned whatever message had been sent. Whatever he read there drew a subtle shift in his demeanor, his fingers tightening around the phone before he sat it down on the table, a small thud accompanying the act; a small frown shadowing his face, there and gone in an instant. Without a word he gestured for the man standing a few paces behind him. The bodyguard stepped forward, and Dimitri leaned back just enough to speak, murmuring something low in Russian, the words too soft for anyone but the other man to catch. The bodyguard nodded once, his expression unreadable, before slipping away from the VIP section to attend to whatever might have perturbed his boss. As the other man left, Dimitri’s gaze drifted around the room with the calculated ease of a predator ensuring his territory remained secure. One of his men at the nearby table caught his eye and gave a slight nod to him. No threads, for now, and with that established Dimitri returned his attention to Taryn, his drink in hand, as if nothing whatsoever had happened to ruffle his feathers. “You are new here,” he added, his voice a little softer and barely heard, though no less commanding. He tilted his head, as if examining her more closely. “What brings you to a place like this? The money, da, I am sure…but you seem too…fresh for this kind of life.” And now the young woman had more than his passing fascination, but she had his full attention. A hammer blow of focus that put her under the microscope, dissecting her in an instant. And the way his eyes traced along the slim frame before him, it seemed as if Dimitri Petroc was appreciating what was on display.​

 

[Bunny]

𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑒, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓​ ❝Elegance wasn’t something that Taryn thought she needed to exude. A friendly face, pleasant conversation and a mean drink. That was what she thought was expected of her. It might have embarrassed her to know that her lack of it was found amusing. In truth, she hadn’t thought anyone would wish for her company in the same way they sought Everly. That casual command made her frown slightly, but his eyes on his phone he might have missed it. She instead settled further back into the seat. If he wouldn’t allow flight, she might as well be comfortable. His accent had clearly indicated his heritage. Russian. She’d known that though. I made her wonder what he might do to make his living. “Are you used to everyone following your requests so obediently?” While the words could have been seen as antagonistic, her voice had been curious. Something told her that he was in fact used to it. His causal commands alone would have told Taryn he was a man of power, even if she’d not met him here in Opal. Her eyes lingered on him, as he dealt with whatever was so important on his phone. The blue glow of the screen illuminating his features, making his pale blue eyes almost ghostly. Annoyed. He was annoyed, though Taryn knew enough that it wasn’t with her. Watching almost owlishly as he motioned for one of the men behind him. She didn’t speak enough Russian to have heard him nor to read his lips, but she still averted her gaze. It was clear whatever it was, she wasn’t to know. Not all that surprising. So she waited and when his voice spoke again to her, Taryn’s gaze lifted to his once more. “Yes.” A simple answer for a simple statement. Her lips curled to the side some. “Da.” She wasn’t mocking him, that much was clear and she inclined her head slightly. “New York is not a cheap city.. And a desire to live in a relatively not scary part of town..” She let her words fade away. Shifting she laid her hands in her lap and lifted her shoulders. “I would agree, if I was one of the girls.” A clear definition of where she saw herself. “Not that there would be anything wrong with such a thing, if I were. I am..” She trailed off and lifted her shoulder self consciously. She wasn’t ready for such a thing, it was clear. Her eyes drifted past him to another girl. Her eyes trailed along her scantily clad figure. “I suppose, I am not quite brave enough.” Those beautiful green eyes returned to him. There was also the small aspect of her age. Seventeen was old enough to serve him alcohol, but to sell her body? Now that would be against the law. The owner, Madame Abigail had made it clear what she decided to do was up to her, and she’d not begrudge her making her money. “But I make a mean drink.” She smiled and nodded to his second drink, “At least I hope so.” Her words were light, almost teasing. Taryn had faith in her abilities and knew his drink would be perfect. Her fingers had moved to toy with the edge of a thigh high. “And doing so pays very very well.” It would allow her to move from the very scary neighborhood to a good one within a month’s time. Which for being seventeen, fresh out of school? What more could she ask for. “That you know I am new, you come to Opal often, Dimitri?” His name was soft and Taryn smiled at him. Everly knew him and his drink, so that had told her the answer, but making small talk was part of what she was here to do. If he wanted to look at something pretty, he had a choice of girls. Some far prettier than she. ​

 

[Father Figure]

“Loyalty is earned, not given. But betrayal…betrayal is paid for in blood. Remember that before you ask me for trust.”​ ❝Dimitri listened, or at least gave the impression of listening, his expression unreadable as Taryn spoke. His eyes, pale and sharp as glacial ice, remained fixed on her for most of it, though they occasionally drifted across the room. A flicker of amusement danced in his gaze, almost imperceptible, as she stumbled through her explanations, threading bravado and honesty in equal measure. Her question about obedience pulled a faint smirk to his lips. A predator’s smile, devoid of warmth. His fingers drummed lazily on the armrest of his chair, a gesture as much for himself as it was for her to note. He did not answer immediately, letting the question hang in the air. A waiter passed by, setting a fresh tray of drinks at a nearby table, laughter breaking softly from a corner of the room where two men clinked glasses. Dimitri’s gaze flicked briefly toward the sound, instinctively noting its source, and dismissing it all within a heartbeat. His awareness of the room was constant, habitual, a lion ensuring the savanna stayed under control. It was a learned behavior, harkening back to his youth and the days of desperation and survival that few Americans could ever grasp. If only for a second he pitted them, these soft excuses for human beings, who had never known an empty belly or a night without shelter. To them the world was one of opulence, even amongst their poorest. To Dimitri, it was a world designed to be abused. Her attempt at the Russian “da” dragged his attention back to her, tugging his smirk into something closer to a grin, fleeting but genuine, as if the effort to gain his attention had earned her a measure of approval. Still, her words, her insistence on defining herself as not one of the girls, elicited no immediate response. Instead, Dimitri picked up his drink, swirling it again, the motion deliberate, reflective. He brought it to his lips and took a slow sip, letting the silence stretch. Finally, he leaned forward just slightly, his elbows resting on his knees, the movement subtle yet enough to shift the energy between them. His voice, smooth and low, carried the weight of a man unused to indulging in unnecessary chatter. “People follow,” he said, his accent making the words clipped but measured, “because they understand consequence. You learn this, or you do not last.” He let his gaze rest on her for a moment, assessing, before reclining back again. “You’re young,” he added after a beat, his tone neutral but edged with something thoughtful, like he was deciding what to do with her presence here. “New, but not naive.” A pause. His eyes flickered down to her fingers as they toyed with the edge of her thigh-high stockings. “You are careful. That will serve you.” He humored her with an answer about his visits to the Opal, his head tilting slightly, as if weighing how much he cared to reveal. “Often enough,” he said simply. “Enough to see the value in consistency.” The word hung there, layered with meaning. Whether he referred to the club, the drink, or something else entirely was left open to interpretation, as he intended. At that moment his phone buzzed again on the table, but this time instead of looking at it, Dimitri ignored it to keep his focus squarely upon Taryn. “Tell me,” he said, his voice calm but probing now. “You truly did not answer me, not truly. What does a girl like you hope to find here, in a place like Opal? Money is simple. There is always more. But you? You could have what you want by simply being arm candy. Why the hard road?”​

 

[Bunny]

𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑒, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓​ ❝A demand for a true answer had her shifting uneasily. Taryn didn’t try and hide it from him, her eyes lowered some as she considered her words. Had she been of age, would she have been arm candy,a s he suggested? Perhaps. A few years and she might not have been a virgin and she’d have been far more willing to trade her looks and company for what she desired. After a long moment she shrugged and lifted her eyes to his. “The biggest issue is my age.” The words were plain. “Eighteen is old enough to serve you alcohol according to the state. It is not old enough to be arm candy, as you put it.” Her lips curled some as she said it, finding no offense in the wording nor the connotations behind it. There was another issue though, she’d hinted at as much. Rather than force him to ask again, something she thought he’d dislike, Taryn offered it willingly. “I am also a virgin.” It was said just as plainly though her cheeks heated and color filled her pale cheeks. She wasn’t embarrassed by the fact, but to state it so plainly to a stranger? That was where it came in. “So I work. Though, hard road..” her nose wrinkled playfully and she smiled at him. “It isn’t exactly back breaking work. Bartending pays well, I get to dress up,” she motioned to her dress with her hands and laughed softly. “I’d get paid less elsewhere.. The dressing up might still be favored for tips, but I’d also have to deal with handsy men and bitchy people.” Not that working at Opal truly excluded her from either.The difference was some class was expected here and if someone touched her and she didn’t want them to, one warning before one of the staff stepped in to put a stop to it. She shifted in her seat, leaning back as her eyes met his again. “Consistency?” Taryn probed. Nodding to his drink. “Such as the drink and the known clientele?” She was outside that norm, for now. “Following is easy but it can also be.. Boring.” It wasn’t a challenge, but it was how she felt. It was easy to fall in line, to do as you were told. It might not sit well with everyone, but the act of obedience wasn’t hard. At least in Taryn’s eyes. “I understand why you’d favor it,” she mused. “It falls in line with the value you put in with consistency. But, doesn’t it get boring, even for you?” It was a genuine question. He’d asked her to stay and Taryn wasn’t about to pander to him. She would be who she was, not who she thought he wanted her to be. It was also, perhaps why the arm candy route wasn’t the best for her. She didn’t want to create a facade to entice. Some might have said it was because she couldn’t.. Yet her life had been short and pain filled, she knew better than most how to mask. Now though, free, she wanted to just be who she was… ​

 

[Father Figure]

“Loyalty is earned, not given. But betrayal…betrayal is paid for in blood. Remember that before you ask me for trust.”​ ❝Dimitri listened to her with the idle air of a man humoring her, though her words began to interest him. It was far more than she way she moved, or the lightness in her voice. Those subtle hints of femininity that drew his attention. No, it was the fact that within her words he was unable to determine if she was living on naïve optimism or something sharper beneath the surface. The large man adjusted his body, turning to rest his elbow on the back of his chair as he allowed her to continue speaking. It was the first time that he took his eyes off the room, the first time that he locked them solidly on her as the individual of importance in his world. Maybe Dimitri had told her to stay, to keep him company, but that had not turned the young woman into an automaton or plaything for him to abuse. Instead, it had strangely turned her into an intriguing conversationalist, far more complex than most of the women that kept Dimitri company. His hand moved to rest against the side of his jaw as he considered her, his pale blue eyes unreadable. “Consistency,” he began, musing as he realized he was trying to explain himself to a practical stranger. “Is not boring. It is survival. People think freedom is exciting; until they realize freedom without control is chaos.” His other hand raised the aforementioned drink and took another sip from it. “Boredom is a small price to pay to keep power. To keep stability.” His hand shifted, lifting the glass as he leaned forward slightly, drawing her attention to the motion. “Bartending may not be backbreaking,” his tone faintly dry. “But it is still a performance. You dress up, smile, play your part. It is why they pay you. It keeps people coming back. Consistency has its place, everywhere.” Dimitri paused, letting the words sink in as his eyes remained on her. They did not drift away across the room, even when there were things that maybe Dimitri should be paying attention to. A burst of laughter, the clink of glasses, a girl weaving gracefully between tables. The older man’s eyes narrowed, a small smirk touching his face. A smirk which seemed sharper as he continued whatever thoughts were going through his mind. “You see obedience as easy,” he murmured, his accent thickening just slightly on the word. “Because you have not yet had to give it when it cost you something. But you are young, you have time to decide what is worth your obedience, and what,” his voice dipped into something dark and husky. “What is worth defying.” Dimitri’s gaze lingered on Taryn for a moment longer. For a man who lived by control, routine, and calculated decisions, there was a strange allure to her unpolished honesty. Abruptly, he set the glass down on the table, his decision made before he fully understood it himself. His fingers drummed once on the arm of the chair, and then he stood, a fluid motion that drew the attention of his nearby men. They exchanged glances but said nothing, their loyalty to his whims implicit. His pale blue eyes remained to Taryn, assessing her as if weighing whether she would rise to meet the unexpected shift in his mood. And then he offered his hand to her, his voice carrying no explanation. “Let’s get out of here.” ​

 

[Bunny]

𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑒, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓​ ❝Lips pursed and she considered him. “For you, perhaps.” The words offered as a concession. It would be hard to convince the young woman otherwise. She didn’t live in a world of violence at least not any longer. So such things came across as boring. The same thing day in and day out without surprise. While Taryn didn’t know anything about Dimitri, she could make an educated guess. With the guards, his mannerisms? His answer. “Consistency in the form of eight hours with variables that change isn’t quite the same as what you are describing, Dimitri.” She answered, leaning closer to him. “Most, if not all people have some form of consistency in their lives. What you speak of though is more like total control and that is boring.” When he spoke of obedience her face darkened and those pretty eyes hardened. “You don’t know what I have and have not had to do.” That answer held an edge, though their stakes were different. How could they not be? Being beaten by an abusive father was not quite the same thing, now was it? Her head tilted though and she considered him and his words before finally offering the smallest of nods. She wouldn’t fight him on it, but darkness touched all sorts. Taryn included. Glass clinked against wood with a soft, definitive sound. She watched him, curious, but otherwise silent for the moment. When Dimiti stood her eyes lifted to his. He had beautiful eyes, she found herself thinking even as his hand was offered to her. A brow rose now even as she slipped her hand into his. It was expected that some of the bartenders would be picked up by clients. She could have said no. Perhaps she should have said no. “Let me grab my wallet.” Her soft fingers left his and her heels sank into the plush carpet as she walked away. Gone maybe three minutes she came back, tucking her phone and her wallet into her short shorts. Management had been notified that she’d be leaving with Dimitri. In part this was to have someone cover her shift. All girls were encouraged to tell management when they left with a client. Vetted or not, wealthy or not, they would protect the women who worked there. “Ready if you are.” She said softly as she came to stand beside him once more. Where they would go or what they would do, Taryn didn’t know. It mattered little. Why? Consistency was boring and Dimitri was breaking with his careful scheduled world to do something different and exciting.. ​

 

[Father Figure]

“Loyalty is earned, not given. But betrayal…betrayal is paid for in blood. Remember that before you ask me for trust.”​ ❝Dimitri watched her with a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, his pale eyes alight with mild amusement. Taryn’s pushback was not what he expected. Not here, not in a place like Opal, where people tended to defer to him out of fear or reverence. But there she was, standing her ground, in her own subtle fiery way. Challenging him without outright defiance. It was refreshing, it was rare. His arms folded across his chest after he helped her up, his stance relaxed and confident. Completely self-assured and not at all perturbed by the words she had chosen to rebuff him. The words had been sharp, but not disrespectful, her tone carrying just enough heat to remind him that she was not a doormat. He had not encountered anyone like her in a long while. Too young to utterly understand the danger of pushing him but smart enough to know to do so carefully and without crossing a line. As she walked away his gaze was appraising, appreciative, following her slim retreating figure and admiring the sight. The contradiction in her size and her personality, her youth and her intelligence, struck him as oddly charming. Maybe she was a trap in disguise, even if she did not realize that fact. The night was young, and for once Dimitri felt exhilarated. Dimitri strode out of Club Opal, his long coat sweeping behind him as they stepped out into the night air. It was crisp, the faint scent of rain lingering. She had not asked where they were going, and he did not offer this information. She would learn in time that Dimitri preferred it that way. The car waiting at the curb was a jet-black 1969 Dodge Charger, a growling beast of a machine that seemed almost out of place in the modern cityscape. It was a complete cliché, its muscular frame gleaming under the streetlights, polished to perfection, the engine purring with a deep rumble beneath the hood as the valet stepped out from behind the driver’s seat and a second one opened the door for Taryn to get in. Sliding into the driver’s seat, Dimitri adjusted the rearview mirror after putting on his seat belt. There was only so much machismo before it became stupidity. The leather interior carried the faint scent of cigar smoke and something else. His cologne, lingering in the air. He waited only long enough for Taryn to settle into the passenger seat before he shifted the car into gear, the engine roaring to life with a growl. As they pulled away from the curb, the only illumination on their faces were the neon lights reflected off the Charger’s glossy exterior and the headlights of other passing cars. Dimitri drove with a steady hand, his grip firm on the wheel, leaving the club behind as he looked at passing traffic with those cold, glacial eyes. Silence stretched, no need to speak, but finally he spoke. “I assume you did not plan to end your night like this. Most will not ask any questions, they will imagine you left to be my company,” his voice dropped on the last word. Most men would have reached over to touch her, dig their grimy fingers into her thighs, but this man did not. His hand just idly rested atop the gearshift as they continued to cruise through the city. “So why are you here. If not for that reason, and if not for obedience?” ​

 

[Bunny]

𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑒, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓​ ❝The pair left the club and as the door of the charger was opened for her, Taryn flicked her eyes to Dimitri and then the car. Her lips curled slightly and there was humor in her eyes. The look seemed to say ‘Really?’ Slipping into the soft leather seats her own seat-belt was clicked into place as the valet closed her door with a soft thump. As he adjusted the mirror, Taryn was allowed to take in Dimitri and his car all at once. The car was beautiful, Taryn herself having a love for older cars. Muscle cars had always been a favorite, though she also enjoyed those old trucks with the bulbous hoods. His car didn’t purr but growled to life, much like its owner and they were off. Cliche? Yes. Did it also suit him? Again, the answer was yes. The dimness of the car was illuminated by flashes of signs, vivid crimson of rear lights and the brilliance of sweeping lights from oncoming traffic. Settling back, Taryn allowed the city to pass them by as he drove, the silence oddly companionable as he wove through traffic. His voice though drew her eyes from the passing of the city to his profile and she lifted a brow. “No, I didn’t” A simple answer to his question and she laughed softly. “Perhaps, but people have a way of making assumptions rather than asking a lot of the time.” Her smile was bright in the dimness of the car. “Because doing the same thing day in and day out is boring and I wanted to see where the night would end.” It was spoken from a place of innocence, but there was a current in her tone. Freedom. He’d offered her a break from the normalcy and consistency of her day and she’d taken it. “Besides, you broke from your pattern, didn’t you?” Her words were a soft challenge. She shifted slightly. “Or am I mistaken and you often take underaged bartenders out?” There was a thread of teasing in her voice. Fear of some sort should have held Taryn back from teasing him. While she didn’t know who he was or what he did, she had a rough theory. Perhaps it was typecasting of some sort. The accent, the control, the guards. Taryn wasn’t a betting sort of girl, but had she been pressed, she might have offered that not all of Dimitri’s businesses were legal. “As to that reason, no, I am not.” There was a softness now and a glimpse of something else. A hint of a life that had been far from kind. “Why did you offer?” /COLOR] ​

 

[Father Figure]

“Loyalty is earned, not given. But betrayal…betrayal is paid for in blood. Remember that before you ask me for trust.”​ ❝She was not what Dimitri was used to in life, but was she what he wanted? Her willingness to be playful, to not tread lightly, was something he had come across before. But often it was done out of artifice, out of a to not have him angry. Fulfilling a duty as opposed to engaging in a wanted interaction. The Russian was not a kind man, not be any means, and maybe he had an ulterior motive beyond simply wanting her companionship for offering to take her with him. And she was right, she had broken him from his pattern, though not necessarily the way she had believed. Would he have left to handle something, something he did not trust to any other? Most certainly. But would he have done it without his men backing him up, or bringing some unknown variable into the mix? Most assuredly not. Taryn represented a wild card; she was someone that he wanted but not in his typical brutish style. Normalcy, consistency, they were the concerns of human beings. As she spoke, he mostly gave noncommittal answers, little grunts that were easy to recognize as habitual. Instead of nodding, or making a gesture with his hands, Dimitri seemed far more inclined to little vocal ticks similar to the sound of a humph. Looking at him as he drove, there was the distinct impression that he was a predator on the prowl. Stalking his hunting grounds. Angling the Charger through the city streets with a nonchalance that belied the behavior of someone cruising around town with a fine piece of ass such as Taryn. The steady thrum of the engine filled any space of silence between the two. Where was he taking them? But soon enough the answer came. Luxury storefronts gave way to buildings scrawled with graffiti, and roads of cracked asphalt desperate for a construction crew. Trash lined curbs, and homeless dregs, with the occasional hooker marring the street corner. Dimitri had taken them somewhere dangerous. “I like you Taryn,” he said with a small smile quirking up one side of his lip. “I don’t need to threaten you or push you; you just like to ride the edge. Find out how far you can go before someone shoves. See where it takes you before you regret it. But you can live with regret, yes?” Streets grew narrower as he continued to drive, buildings pressing claustrophobically close. Now there were no stores, just abandoned storefronts. Turning one corner his eyes moved off of her to look at a group of men huddled around a burning barrel. Conversation ceased as the Charger moved past, their gaze following the car with trepidation. And acknowledgment. They knew who owned that vehicle, and nobody wanted to cross him. It was a natural reaction, one that Dimitri was used to, a demand for respect. And it was a respect given not out of adoration, but most certainly from fear. “You’ve seen hardship, da. Which is good. But yet you’re somehow still too innocent,” he said with a small glint in his eyes. “Maybe I want to show you a good time, maybe I just want company when doing terrible things. Tarnish you a little. Tell me, little minx, have you ever killed a man?” ​

 

[Bunny]

𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑒, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓​ ❝The sounds he made would take getting used to, but it was how he seemed to communicate rather than visible gestures. It was oddly comforting, even if it was automatic. It almost made her feel like he was listening more, but even Taryn knew she was likely putting that on him without it being true. There was something she was sure of. This was a breach of his normal. By how much, she didn’t know. Just as she had no idea his plans for her. Taryn was relatively sure they would not be doing anything dangerous, because bringing her along seemed foolish and that wasn’t a word she’d have put with Dimitri. Luxury storefronts gave way to buildings and those gave to warehouses and then that gave way to derelict buildings and a harsher life. This part of town was not one Taryn would have come to willingly and she frowned as he spoke. “That would depend on the regret, now wouldn’t it. Dimitri?” Her voice held a hardness, and her eyes scanned the landscape as they drove. The tactics he spoke have worked once on her and Taryn would be damned before they worked again. Escaping hell didn’t mean she wanted to find a brand spanking new one. The purr of the charger was louder and softer all at once as it crawled through narrow streets and she saw the look in the eyes of men as they passed. They knew the care and likely the man behind the wheel. It made her curious and nervous in equal measures. When he spoke again her eyes narrowed and she nodded. “Yes.” There was no mistaking the ghosts that that one word held and she gave a small, feminine growl. “It wasn’t for a lack of trying, Dimitri.” They had tried to steal her shine, they had tarnished Taryn around the edges but she’d fought and clawed her way back out. To pull yourself from hell was no easy task and her arms crossed. “No, nor do I have plans to do so tonight,” Killing wasn’t something that made her squeamish, at least not the thought of it. Life and death were two sides of the same coin. “Do you enjoy tarnishing people?” there was a softness to her voice, a touch of that innocence as she seemed to question for the first time, if getting into this car had been a good choice. ​

 

[Father Figure]

“Loyalty is earned, not given. But betrayal…betrayal is paid for in blood. Remember that before you ask me for trust.”​ ❝The engine of the car idled, a slow reverberation moving through the frame of the muscle car. Across the way from where he had parked was a tenement building, the bricks on the outside pitted from neglect and covered with graffiti. A pathetic rusted chained gate surrounded the section of street, giving a false sense of security to the residents that lived within. All this barely seen in the faint flickering of an overhead streetlight. Dimitri had driven them into the worst part of the city, with nary a care in the world it seemed. Leaving behind his guards, his protection, and the only company a slender waif of a woman barely old enough to hold a job in this godforsaken city. What was he thinking that he would do such a thing, to risk not only his own life but this stranger that he had only recently met the acquaintance of? Was it simply the thrill, the willingness to risk life and limb that got the Russian mobster excited? Or was it the prospect of something else with Taryn, something she noted in her suggestion that he enjoyed tarnishing others. Making them compromised. Maybe that was why he had taken such a shine to her in their first meeting. Recognizing that she might already be conflicted and wanting to push to see if she would break or show him something unexpected. At her words, though Dimitri merely sat motionless, the glow from the dashboard gave his face a stark contrast. The eyes that watched her were unyielding, some would say merciless, and certainly giving nothing away. Studying her like he would have studied an opponent across the table in a poker game. No, he chose to let the silence draw out as he did not speak, his decision a deliberate one. Minutes passed, feeling like an eternity as blue eyes narrowed in contemplation. One finger began to tap the steering wheel, as if patiently waiting for something to happen, and when it did, whatever it was, that was when Dimitri smiled. Was it something in her demeanor, some kind of tell that Taryn had given off? Nothing else had happened, as far as could be gleaned from the empty and depressing world around them. “Yes,” was all he said to her near accusation. His eyes turned towards the building, and he gave a little grunt, drawing her attention towards it. “Inside there is a man who likes to think himself untouchable. Leonid Volkov. Competition.” A small smirk touched Dimitri’s face, barely seen in the dark. The large man leaned back in his seat, his fingers drumming a slight beat as he spoke. “Drugs, stolen goods, flesh,” he said the last word with a glance along Taryn’s slender frame. “But he is undisciplined, a wild dog chasing the scraps I leave behind. Maybe I try to kill him, da? Maybe he tries to kill me, and we fail. Can’t get close. But you, Taryn, I think you could get quite close. I think you could lure him out, like you did me.” A playful sound came into that voice. “You don’t already work for him, do you?” ​

 

[Bunny]

𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑒, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓​ ❝Competition. Her eyes were focused on his face as he spoke. While Taryn had assumed, she now knew what Dimitri did. Biting the inside of her cheek she let her eyes leave him and sweep out into the rundown street and settle on the building that held the man he saw as his adversary. Shifting on the leather seats she crossed her arms and lifted a brow. “What exactly do you want me to do Dimitri?” The words were soft and while her voice held no fear there was an almost.. Deadness to them. Taryn was used to being asked to do things she didn’t like and had found a way to make that part of herself cold. His question earned him a derisive snort. “If I was, I wouldn’t tell you and if you thought I was you’d likely not ask this of me. I would be able to warn him and then he would have the upper hand you are clearly looking for.” Unlike her previous experiences though, she had a choice in this matter and she angled her chin, considering him. “What do I get for this? This goes beyond doing the unexpected. I am not foolish, even if I am young. Something like this is never done for free.” As to what the woman beside him wanted, she had no fucking idea. She wasn’t going to traipse up to that building and lure a man to his death without something in return. There was no doubt in her mind such an exchange was beyond Dimitri. If Taryn wanted to look at it from the point of view that she doing something wrong for the right reasons, Dimitri’s reason aside, it might have helped her sleep better, but even she knew there was no winning in this situation. Without the competition, Dimitri would simply fill the space. Lives would still be lost. She would never know them, but flesh and drugs were not sweet things. Overdoses, being unable to take the life forced on them, wanton violence over any of the three, if you added in stolen goods. Even as they sat in the quickly cooling interior of his car, Taryn knew she could walk up to the door, ask for help. Her car broke down just down the block. Or some other lie. When men looked at her, she knew what they saw. Soft, innocent, pretty. Nothing to fear. It was more than likely why Dimitri was in the car with her, even if he knew her a touch better than the dead man living on borrowed time. ​