Midnight Purgatory (Bugrov Bratva #1)(58)

And it begs the question: what the hell is going on?

Uri slides the chair out for me before he sits down himself. A string quartet plays light music from the corner and the murmur of the other diners percolates through the dining room. But while it seems like everyone has just gone back to their own conversations, I can still feel the weight of their stares, their attention.

It’s almost enough to make me forget that I’m literally wearing a sex toy.

“That was… weird.”

Uri folds his hands together. “What was?”

“Are you kidding? What was that entrance? I’m surprised the whole restaurant didn’t do a collective curtsy.”

He snorts. “You’re a dramatic one.”

I just squint at him curiously. “Are you really that important? Or are you just that scary?”

“I’d like to think I’m both.”

I glance to the side and catch one of the women from the adjacent table staring at me. She whips her head back around the moment I catch her. Real subtle.

“Who are all these people?”

Uri’s gaze hasn’t once veered to any of the other tables. Maybe he’s just being a gentleman and focusing his attention on me. But I have a feeling it’s more than that. It feels like a power move. I’m way too important to be interested in any of you.

Uri shrugs. “Some are vors; some are business colleagues; some are simply acquaintances.”

“You’re telling me that everyone here is connected to—” I lean in and pull my voice down to a whisper. “—the mob?”

He glowers at me. “The Bratva,” he says haughtily. “It’s a totally different beast.”

“Oh, for God’s sake. Every bad guy likes to think they’re the first to ever do it. You all break laws, sell drugs, make a bunch of money in all kinds of illegal ways. So tell me the difference.”

He leans in towards me with an irresistible grin on his face. “The difference is that we never get caught.”

Not gonna lie—that one sends a shiver down my spine. I take another peek around the restaurant and I catch more sets of eyes on us. “You brought me here to make some sort of point, didn’t you?”

He leans back a little and regards me curiously.

“Well?” I press.

“You’re the first one of my dates to ever ask me that question.”

Oh, great. Now, I know he’s brought other women to this place. Which means at least some of the looks I’m getting are more judgmental than curious.

I’m just the newest flavor of the month.

Blech.

“I’m not like your other dates,” I snap. “I’ve actually got a brain up here and, believe it or not, my life’s goal has never been to be arm candy to some guy, no matter how rich or powerful or influential he might be.”

Uri regards me coolly. “You seem upset.”

“Who, me?” I ask in a voice that’s way too high-pitched. “Not at all. I’m just dandy.”

His lips are pulling up a little. I swear to God, if he smiles, I’m gonna chuck my glass of water in his face. I’m being made to look like a fool.

“Did you think you were the only one I brought here?”

I purse my lips together. “I’ll admit, it was stupid of me to make the assumption that this dinner was for my benefit.”

“You need to relax, Alyssa.”

I can feel the heat rush to my face. “Don’t tell me to relax. I have no interest in being a pawn in your weird little power games. This isn’t dinner; this is a fucking dog-and-pony show. Meant to show that you—”

My words are consumed by a gasp. I grip the edge of the table and try to make sense of what’s happening. It takes me a few seconds, but eventually, I realize that the vibrator inside me is living up to its name, giving off a subtle quiver that I can feel thrumming up my body in subtle little bursts.

I stare open-mouthed at Uri, waiting for an explanation. His eyes are trained on me, bright with intention as he twists his hand around and opens his palm to reveal the little remote that he showed me earlier.

My mouth pops open. “Y-you’re controlling the vibrator?” He nods as I grit my teeth and try to sit still so no one else notices what’s happening. “Well, stop it!”

“Like I said, you really need to relax.”

I try to grab the remote but he pulls it out of my reach smoothly. “Now, now, Alyssa, behave yourself. We’re in public.”

“You’re an asshole!”

He leans in so close that I can smell his cologne. “I’ve brought a lot of other women to this restaurant—” If it weren’t for the vibrator dancing around in my pussy, I’d have popped him one across that smug face. “—and none of them have ever called me an asshole. You don’t have to worry about being one of many, Alyssa. You’re not. You’re one of one.”

I’m not sure if it’s the vibrator or his eyes or the way he says those words but, God help me, it feels suspiciously like a compliment.

The vibrating stops and I sigh with relief. “Can I have the remote, please?” I croak.

“Not a fucking chance.”

I grit my teeth. “Is this your usual M.O.? Force all your dates to wear vibrators so that you can win every argument at the push of a button?”