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Bunny

Bunny

βœ§β‚ŠβΊ 𝐼'𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 π‘Ž π‘”π‘œπ‘œπ‘‘ π‘”π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘™ ୨ৎ
Staff member
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Joined
Jan 8, 2020



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π‘Ž π‘šπ‘œπ‘‘β„Ž π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘€π‘› π‘‘π‘œ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘“π‘™π‘Žπ‘šπ‘’, π‘π‘œπ‘›π‘‘π‘Žπ‘π‘‘ π‘šπ‘–π‘”β„Žπ‘‘ 𝑏𝑒 π‘“π‘Žπ‘‘π‘Žπ‘™ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝑦𝑒𝑑 π‘ β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘œπ‘’π‘™π‘‘π‘›'𝑑 π‘ π‘‘π‘œπ‘ β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘ π‘’π‘™π‘“​


❝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. β€œEnjoy.” 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.

β€œThat is Dimitri!” She nodded to the new arrival. β€œWhy 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. β€œHe always gets a Black Czar.” Oddly enough, Taryn knew how to make it. β€œThough, be sure to use Russian vodka.” β€œAlright..”

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. β€œEvening. 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…​
 
 


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β€œLoyalty 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.​
 
 
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π‘Ž π‘šπ‘œπ‘‘β„Ž π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘€π‘› π‘‘π‘œ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘“π‘™π‘Žπ‘šπ‘’, π‘π‘œπ‘›π‘‘π‘Žπ‘π‘‘ π‘šπ‘–π‘”β„Žπ‘‘ 𝑏𝑒 π‘“π‘Žπ‘‘π‘Žπ‘™ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝑦𝑒𝑑 π‘ β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘œπ‘’π‘™π‘‘π‘›'𝑑 π‘ π‘‘π‘œπ‘ β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘ π‘’π‘™π‘“​


❝Thank you. His accent was distinct and the word was one of the few Russian words she knew. β€œYou 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. β€œOf 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. β€œVashe zdorov'ye” she offered, nodding to the drink, her smile shy. β€œOne 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.
​
 
 


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β€œLoyalty 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.

β€œTo 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. β€œStay, 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.

β€œYou 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. β€œWhat 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.​
 
 


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π‘Ž π‘šπ‘œπ‘‘β„Ž π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘€π‘› π‘‘π‘œ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘“π‘™π‘Žπ‘šπ‘’, π‘π‘œπ‘›π‘‘π‘Žπ‘π‘‘ π‘šπ‘–π‘”β„Žπ‘‘ 𝑏𝑒 π‘“π‘Žπ‘‘π‘Žπ‘™ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝑦𝑒𝑑 π‘ β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘œπ‘’π‘™π‘‘π‘›'𝑑 π‘ π‘‘π‘œπ‘ β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘ π‘’π‘™π‘“​


❝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. β€œAre 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. β€œYes.” A simple answer for a simple statement. Her lips curled to the side some. β€œDa.” She wasn’t mocking him, that much was clear and she inclined her head slightly. β€œNew 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. β€œI would agree, if I was one of the girls.” A clear definition of where she saw herself. β€œNot 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. β€œI 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.

β€œBut I make a mean drink.” She smiled and nodded to his second drink, β€œAt 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. β€œAnd 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.

β€œThat 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. ​
 
 


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β€œLoyalty 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 β€œda” 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.

β€œPeople follow,” he said, his accent making the words clipped but measured, β€œbecause 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. β€œYou’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. β€œNew, but not naive.” A pause. His eyes flickered down to her fingers as they toyed with the edge of her thigh-high stockings. β€œYou 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. β€œOften enough,” he said simply. β€œEnough 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.

β€œTell me,” he said, his voice calm but probing now. β€œYou 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?”​
 
 


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π‘Ž π‘šπ‘œπ‘‘β„Ž π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘€π‘› π‘‘π‘œ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘“π‘™π‘Žπ‘šπ‘’, π‘π‘œπ‘›π‘‘π‘Žπ‘π‘‘ π‘šπ‘–π‘”β„Žπ‘‘ 𝑏𝑒 π‘“π‘Žπ‘‘π‘Žπ‘™ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝑦𝑒𝑑 π‘ β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘œπ‘’π‘™π‘‘π‘›'𝑑 π‘ π‘‘π‘œπ‘ β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘ π‘’π‘™π‘“​


❝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. β€œThe biggest issue is my age.” The words were plain. β€œEighteen 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. β€œI 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. β€œSo I work. Though, hard road..” her nose wrinkled playfully and she smiled at him. β€œIt 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. β€œI’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. β€œConsistency?” Taryn probed. Nodding to his drink. β€œSuch as the drink and the known clientele?” She was outside that norm, for now. β€œFollowing 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. β€œI understand why you’d favor it,” she mused. β€œIt 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…
​
 
 


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β€œLoyalty 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.

β€œConsistency,” he began, musing as he realized he was trying to explain himself to a practical stranger. β€œIs 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. β€œBoredom 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. β€œBartending may not be backbreaking,” his tone faintly dry. β€œBut 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. β€œYou see obedience as easy,” he murmured, his accent thickening just slightly on the word. β€œBecause 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.

β€œWhat 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. β€œLet’s get out of here.” ​
 
 


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π‘Ž π‘šπ‘œπ‘‘β„Ž π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘€π‘› π‘‘π‘œ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘“π‘™π‘Žπ‘šπ‘’, π‘π‘œπ‘›π‘‘π‘Žπ‘π‘‘ π‘šπ‘–π‘”β„Žπ‘‘ 𝑏𝑒 π‘“π‘Žπ‘‘π‘Žπ‘™ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝑦𝑒𝑑 π‘ β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘œπ‘’π‘™π‘‘π‘›'𝑑 π‘ π‘‘π‘œπ‘ β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘ π‘’π‘™π‘“​


❝Lips pursed and she considered him. β€œFor 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. β€œConsistency 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. β€œMost, 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. β€œYou 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. β€œLet 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. β€œReady 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..
​
 
 


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β€œLoyalty 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 clichΓ©, 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. β€œI 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.

β€œSo why are you here. If not for that reason, and if not for obedience?” ​
 
 
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