Deadly Intentions (The Bobrov Bratva #4) Read Online Shandi Boyes

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: The Bobrov Bratva Series by Shandi Boyes
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Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
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“There’s a timer for each room,” Jax announces when we stop outside a gleaming white door that a bouncer with shoulders broader than the doorjamb is blocking. “It will buzz when the time is up.” He taps on the giant’s shoulder like a fairy tap will move him. “If you don’t emerge from the room within a minute of the timer going off, Nathan will enter unannounced to check on you. The client can request additional time, but the rate is negotiated while the entertainer isn’t in the room. Let Nathan know if you want more time, and he will fetch me.”

“I can’t stay longer.” Instead of telling him Saka will most likely be searching high and low for me by then, I murmur, “This is a one-off. It won’t happen again.”

He gives me a sure, sure look before murmuring under his breath, “That’s what they all say.”

I won’t lie. I understand the attraction to this industry. Being wanted is a highly craved aphrodisiac, but I’m uneased when it is associated with payment. It brings up bad memories. Not enough for me to renege on my offer, but it won’t see me rushing into a second round of negotiations anytime soon.

After handing the bouncer the gym bag holding my payment, Jax says, “Breathe, baby girl. I’ve seen your moves. You’ll be fine.” He hits me with a frisky wink. “If you’re not convinced, step aside. I’ll happily shake my booty in his face for free, and I won’t even make him buy me a drink first.”

His chuckle at my narrowed glare rings in my ears as he opens the door and gently shoves me inside. Normal girls’ eyes would zoom straight on the man who spent five figures for twenty minutes with them. I’m not normal. I take in the décor like I’m entering a five-star hotel known for celebrity sightings, hopeful it will calm the butterflies in my stomach enough that I won’t stumble when my eyes finally make their way to my “client.”

It isn’t nerves in my stomach when our eyes lock and hold for the third time tonight. It is a sensation I’ve not experienced before but could see becoming a debilitating addiction, if it were occurring without a second pair of scrutinizing eyes tracking my every move.

The handsome stranger isn’t alone. A second man is in the room with him. He appears more formally dressed since the stranger’s suit jacket has been removed, exposing the impressive lines of his back muscles. The dark sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled to his elbows. He looks delicious, but it won’t alter the facts. Our agreement was for one.

When I announce that out loud, the man holding a briefcase says, “I’m not here for that part of your exchange.” His stumble is understandable. My skirt appears more like a belt than an article of clothing. “I’m here on Mr. F—”

He’s interrupted by a stern cough.

It didn’t come from my half of the room.

After settling the rapid bob of his Adam’s apple, the man tries again. “This will only take a second of your time.” He pulls out a piece of paper that looks like it’s been through a war, balances his briefcase on his shaky hand, then digs a pen out of his pocket before presenting the trio to me as a writing table. “If you’d be so kind to place your signature here—”

I cut him off this time. “What are you requesting me to sign?”

“Um…”

His reply is as cagey as his sweaty forehead, but before he can continue striving to deceive me, the stranger interrupts him for the second time. “It is an NDA.” As he stuffs his hands into his pockets, he spins to face me. “A non-disclosure—”

“Agreement. I know what it is, but I’m curious as to why we need one.”

“Mr.—” Another strike is awarded to the bumbling stranger with a vicious growl. “Matvei’s reputation is a testament of his family name. We can’t risk a minor infraction debasing the name his father worked so hard to give meaning to.”

Matvei looks frustrated about his lawyer’s remark, and it calms my nerves enough to ask, “What will happen if I don’t sign?”

Matvei answers on the man’s behalf. “Our agreement will be null and void.”

“And the payment?” My disappointment can’t be missed. I make out that it centers around money, instead of my frustration that our time is seconds from being drastically cut short.

Matvei keeps the tension high by delaying his reply for almost thirty seconds before he says in a low, gravelly tone, “It will be returned in full.”

I’m pissed, but really, should I expect any less? What man in their right mind would spend such a ludicrous amount of money for one dance by a below-average performer?

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” I move to the side of the room to ensure Matvei and his friend can leave without incident. “Not only can I not see a damn thing on the NDA since I can’t read black font on white paper, but I’m also not comfortable making this feel more like a business transaction than it already does.”


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