Cold Hearted Bastard – Underworld Kings Read Online Jenika Snow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Mafia, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 70263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
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I just shook my head. “This is the weirdest night I’ve had in a long time.”

She snorted, and we both grinned genuinely.

“It’s confusing the first time,” she finally said. “Each room is named after a woman.”

I stifled my eye roll. Of course they are.

“I got Svetlana. You got Anastasia… which is the highest-level tier. It’s the one where the most important clients stay. So, in all regards, you hit the motherload for the tip jackpot.”

For a moment I thought about just saying never mind and leaving. This was all so weird, and I was definitely an outsider. The women around me speaking Russian and the elite atmosphere solidified that.

I opened my mouth to thank Laura for getting me the job, but I changed my mind when the words froze in my throat as I saw a woman walk in. She held a stack of folded-up bills and proceeded to unroll them and count her very clear tip money.

Holy shit. There are hundred-dollar bills in there. I took a steadying breath and looked at Laura again. I could see by her expression she expected me to bail. Only this one time. If I make enough, this night will be a game changer.

“Okay. Let’s do this.” Even I could hear how hesitant I sounded.

10

Arlo

Petrov wants to meet you tonight at Sdat'sya. Midnight. Sharp.

That was the text I’d gotten an hour ago, and as I pulled my car to the side parking of Sdat'sya, I checked the clock on the dashboard. Ten minutes until midnight.

When Leonid wanted to meet you personally, it was never a good thing. He always wanted something. Always tried to squeeze the last drop of blood from your body before he tossed your corpse aside.

And I knew what this was about. I knew Leonid was going to try to talk me into joining the Bratva instead of being a free agent—a mercenary even—with the Ruin. He’d tried before, but with men like him, they were never satisfied if they didn’t get exactly what they wanted.

Leonid was one persistent bastard.

I made my way toward the front entrance, pulled the heavy black door open, and immediately heard the soft sounds of traditional Russian music playing overhead. There was a Bratva soldier situated in the corner of the room, his long leather jacket concealing the no doubt numerous guns and knives he had attached to his body underneath.

This front entrance room was nothing but the first layer of Sdat'sya. It was the makeup before you got to the meat and heart of what this establishment really was.

There was a bar across from me, a few of the clientele lounging on the dark brown leather couches situated around the room. The majority of the people were in the other rooms, each one blocked off from prying eyes and ears, all of them housing a powerful, influential, and wealthy clientele. This wasn’t just a bar; it was a place where a lot of the Bratva and powerful associates and allies who worked for and with them made deals, talked business, and used the amenities the Desolation Bratva had in abundance.

Drugs, booze, and women.

Behind the red and blacklight illuminated bar was a saying a lot of Leonid Petrov’s men lived by.

Мы грешим, так как бы беспечны и не думаем об этом

We sin because we're careless, and we don't think about it. Or so it was translated loosely into English. But the truth was, that was a lie. Anyone involved in our world knew what the fuck they were doing. They were aware of their “sins,” ones they didn’t even see as such because the fuckers got off on giving pain to others. Like me. Like anyone associated with the Ruin.

No one bothered me. No one tried to stop me. Some even looked at me with clear fear and hesitancy in their eyes. Anyone who worked at Sdat'sya was part of the Ruin and therefore knew exactly who I was. They’d seen me at Yama, watched me destroy my opponents. They knew my reputation… the fact that I was a father killer. I wore that badge of patricide like a fucking honor.

I passed the bar and made my way down the hall. There was a Bratva soldier standing at the end by the elevator. He straightened from the wall and gave me a nod of acknowledgment. He said nothing as he hit the button for the elevator to go upstairs, and a second later the elevator doors opened.

I stepped inside, the soldier following me in. Once we were ascending, I sorted through what would happen tonight. The one other time I had personally spoken with Leonid was right after I’d killed my father. He wanted me to join the Bratva then. I’d professionally declined. He hadn’t pressed it, but I knew men like him. I knew him specifically. The way he worked, the things he demanded. How he expected the world to fall at his feet. And for the most part, it did.


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