Victoria Bura is the deadliest kept secret in the criminal underbelly, her father's legacy is cleaning up after the wealthiest and deadliest families in the world under the guise of being a modest hog farmer. When her father dies, leaving Vic and her sheltered, inept, contradictious younger brother to pay his debts it places her right in the path of Alexander Volkov a man more infamous for his ruthlessness than his name, and he makes it perfectly clear he knows the ghost in Victoria Bura's closet. Now Vic's life is turned inside out as she finds herself not only employed to the head of the most dangerous family in history, but she is left at the mercy of his three most trusted mercenaries. She soon finds that the Volkov family may not be the villains in her story, that title may just be claimed by someone much closer to home.
View MoreVic remained silent as Max opened the door to a sleek black sedan and ushered her into the backseat before climbing in next to her. Through her peripheral she kept an eye on Rowan as he hauled her two moderately sized bags down the stairs and tossed them into the trunk like they didn't weigh at least fifty pounds each. Vic sucked in a breath as Max’s sweater brushed over her shoulders while he moved himself closer to her. “Sorry about the backseat cuddles sweetness.” he smiled and tipped his head to the side playfully. “Rocco doesn't like it when Rowan sits up front, says he drives from the passenger seat,” Max finished and as Vic’s eyes snapped to the front of the car, she caught Rocco’s deep brown eyes almost boring straight through her. “You could sit up front and give the woman some room to breathe.” Rocco grumbled and Max only squeezed Vic’s shoulders tighter against himself. “She likes cuddling with me. We are gonna be besties, right love?” Vic sat with her head and shoulders sc
Vic had been hiding in her apartment for almost a full week, since the day she had called the number, the receptionist had given her. Plenty of people had tried contacting her, including Phillip, but the news that came through the phone the moment she heard Volkov’s voice dug a hole in her stomach she was still trying to recover from. He simply told her that either “The Ghost” would work for him, or Phillip would, and she would know when he wanted his answer.“The Ghost” was the code name Vic’s father had insisted on when she first told him she wanted to help with the family business. At first, he was more than apprehensive about her involvement because, although their family had specialized in using brute force to extract information where others could not for generations, Phillip Bura Senior had others plans for his oldest and only daughter.When she was about sixteen Vic heard her father having a hushed argument with their mother one night, before she had gotten too sick to speak.
Alexander dipped his head in understanding before snapping his fingers toward Rowan. “Down boy.” Volkov said with a half-amused smirk and Rowan folded his arms across his chest as he stepped back behind his boss. “Good boy.” Vic mused through pursed lips and Volkov tsked at her quip. “Careful Miss Bura, Rowan will top you in rank.” he finished, and Rowan rolled his shoulders with a primal lust in his eyes. “Gimme half an excuse to pull rank on you sweet ass, I promise you will be begging for-,” Volkov snapped his fingers, and Rowan instantly clapped his lips shut but never took his predatory stare from Vic. Vic tipped her head to the side with a lazy expression. “His threats don’t bother me Mr. Volkov, men have been threatening to do far more creative things to me since I was about thirteen, your lap dog doesn't scare me.” she finished and watched interest spark in all three men’s eyes. “I like your direct approach and unwillingness to be intimidated by my standings M
Phillip Bura sat at his father’s extravagant desk in the overstuffed chair tapping his expertly manicured fingers against the arm rest, as a dark looming figure sat silent and still across from him. Phillip tried not to sweat as the old analog clock his father insisted on keeping made every second sound off with an ominous tick. “I assure you Mr. Volkov, my sister is usually very punctual. The passing of our father has taken quite a toll on her.” he began to explain, while fidgeting in the dark red leather chair he was perched in, like a rigid child waiting to be disciplined. The man across from Phillip only gave a slow nod and continued to sit in silence, making Phillip swallow his anxiety as he tried to hide the constant wiping of his clammy hands on his pressed slacks. Phillip licked his dry, thin lips and continued to fill in the silence. “You know how sensitive these women can be. I tried to explain to her that business needs to continue, but as you can see-.” Phillip let the sta
**CONTENT WARNING** This story will contain several dark and triggering topics that may be very upsetting to some readers, please read at your own risk and stop if it becomes to much, your mental health matters. Happy reading dome dwellers and stranger than fiction friends - BThe rapid echo of men's dress shoes clicking against a hollow marble floor were the only sounds to rouse Victoria Bura from the punching bag she was currently attempting to destroy, hoping it would take the strange sadness in her chest with it. She tried her best to ignore the growing irritation as her impending visitor’s footsteps stopped. The irritating rhythm of knuckles against the closed door sounded just before her brother's voice buzzed through the thick wood door. “It’s been a week, Vicki. Don't you think it's time to stop sulking?” He tried to shout through the thick wood and even over the music, she could still hear his annoying voice. “I’m not sulking Phil,” she grunted after each powerful thrust of
**CONTENT WARNING** This story will contain several dark and triggering topics that may be very upsetting to some readers, please read at your own risk and stop if it becomes to much, your mental health matters. Happy reading dome dwellers and stranger than fiction friends - BThe rapid echo of men's dress shoes clicking against a hollow marble floor were the only sounds to rouse Victoria Bura from the punching bag she was currently attempting to destroy, hoping it would take the strange sadness in her chest with it. She tried her best to ignore the growing irritation as her impending visitor’s footsteps stopped. The irritating rhythm of knuckles against the closed door sounded just before her brother's voice buzzed through the thick wood door. “It’s been a week, Vicki. Don't you think it's time to stop sulking?” He tried to shout through the thick wood and even over the music, she could still hear his annoying voice. “I’m not sulking Phil,” she grunted after each powerful thrust of
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