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"Bullshit!
Who do I need to kill?"

- Jade
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Chapter 3 - Broken But Beautiful

▪️N A T A S H A▪️

5 Years Later

The girl known as Natalya was dead.

When I had been given a new identity by Aleksandr, I decided to use the diminutive form of my old name, preferring to be called Natasha, while adopting an entirely new last name.

I was now known as Natasha Tarasova and I was currently in a sex club having a drink.

The background bass of the music vibrated through the second level of The Purple Angel while the low light flickered across the room. With a small smile on my face, I observed how a nearby couple danced and made out.

"God damn, Aleksandr is looking fuckable tonight!" Jade whispered in my ear; her arm hooked around mine while we sat at a table.

Turning my head, I watched as the Russian Aelbank mafia boss walked across the other side of the room. It was hard to miss him. Aleksandr exuded confidence and power, not to mention his signature grey suit and black shirt fit him impeccably as always.

Shaking my head, I replied, "Don't let your husband hear you talking like that..."

"Meh! Dom will get over it."

I wanted to argue, but I knew that Jade often did things just to get a rise out of those around her. She was playful and sadistic in ways I still could not believe at times, and even after knowing her more than four years, she still managed to surprise me.

Returning my gaze to look down at her, I pleaded, "You know where you're concerned Dominic would burn the world to the ground. Alliances be damned..."

Beaming, Jade said, "Right? Makes me horny just thinking about how reckless he is! But don't worry, I'll behave tonight. I'm just going to harass Aleksandr about his decision concerning Litizia. I'm almost positive that he's going to say yes."

"Well, if anyone can convince Master Aleksandr to get married, it would be you," my lips twitched at the thought.

Even though it would be an arranged marriage, Jade and I were silently hoping that their situation would evolve into something more. I had come to love Aleksandr like family and I wanted nothing more than for him to be happy with a woman who could truly love and appreciate him.

Litizia was a nice girl. From the few brief times I had interacted with her, I felt like she was perfect for Aleksandr.

Of course, no one wanted to be forced into an arranged marriage, but I felt that if one were to have a fake husband, a man like Aleksandr would not be a bad option. I did owe my life to him and I would forever be grateful for how he had helped me.

The sound of Jade's giggle brought me out of my thoughts.

"Once I'm finished with Aleksandr, we'll work on your situation. As a matter of fact, where's that sexy Russian of yours tonight?"

"Sergey isn't mine..." I stated.

"Not yet!" Jade countered wiggling her eyebrows.

Inwardly groaning, I complained, "Remind me again why I confessed my feelings for him to you?"

"Because I'm your best friend and if you didn't tell me, I would have tortured it out of you eventually?" Jade answered sweetly, batting her lashes.

"Ugh! I know your heart is in the right place, but I just don't see it happening. I'm perfectly happy to continue ogling him from afar."

I supposed that I was not doing a very good job of hiding my melancholic mood tonight. Jade's eyes slowly scanned over my features, a small frown creasing her brow as she leaned her face close to mine.

"What's wrong, Nat? Who upset you tonight?"

"No one–"

"Bullshit! Who do I need to kill?" Jade shifted to pull her knife out, "Is it Sergey? Was he being rude to you again? Do I need to stab him?"

At her movements I could not help but laugh, "Wouldn't stabbing him defeat the purpose of trying to set us up? I can't exactly date a corpse..."

"I'd only stab him, a little..."

Arching a brow at her, she huffed and muttered under her breath.

While watching Jade replace her knife under her dress, I said, "No, seriously, I'm fine. Go talk to Master Aleksandr, I'm going to head home soon anyway."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Even though she did not seem convinced, Jade relented with a soft grumble. She then leaned forward and kissed me softly on the lips.

"I'll call you in the morning, I'm off to go work my magic," she stated then winked.

With a chuckle, I watched as Jade got up from the table.

The purple-haired beauty all but bounced her way across the room towards the black marble bar. She wore a black mid-thigh bodycon dress that did not leave much to the imagination. From the way her green eyes sparkled mischievously before she left, I just knew that she would be up to no good tonight.

Leaning back into my seat, I observed the way Aleksandr tensed when Jade came up behind him and put her arms around his waist. Unless given permission to do so, there was a strict no-touching policy that was enforced within the club. But this was Jade and she enjoyed breaking the rules wherever she could.

"Bozhe, pomogi nam!" I mumbled in Russian then sighed. "God help us indeed..."

Returning my attention to the room, I watched some of the couples who were openly engaging in sexual acts. Some men and women were on their hands and knees, pleasuring their partners in several ways. Others were lost in the throes of passion as they got pounded in various positions either from vaginal or anal penetration.

In some cases, both, at the same time.

Seeing as it was just after ten on a Wednesday night, the club was not as full as it usually was. But no matter the day of the week, there was always a decent turnout of people.

After the busy morning that I had, Aleksandr had not only given me the night off, but also the next three days as well.

Though, seeing as Sergey's birthday was on Friday, I figured that my boss had given me the nights off in the hope that I would be spending them with his second in command. Even though Aleksandr himself never dated any of the women working for him, he never intervened in the relationships between his men and the women who worked at the brothels. Once these relationships did not interfere with business everything was fine.

It would have been a sweet sentiment to think that I had Aleksandr's blessing to pursue my feelings but a part of me wondered if it was more to piss off his right-hand man.

Last I checked, Sergey wanted nothing to do with me.

Besides giving me the regular cold shoulder, I was definitely unlike any of the women he welcomed into his bed. On top of always having large breasts, they were always women of wealth and status.

Where looks were concerned, whether they be tall, short, slim or overweight, it did not matter to him, nor did he discriminate against skin colour either. Once a woman had an ample enough amount of cleavage for him to bury his face into, Sergey was happy.

It was obvious that the man loved women.

"Just not me..." I scoffed while glancing down at my small breasts.

Even though I had only fully blossomed into my full height of 5'11 within the last two years, I always had a lean frame. A perfect dancer's body, one that often mocked me every time I looked at myself in the mirror.

As a child growing up in Russia, I had always envisioned myself being a prima ballerina when I grew up, one that graced various stages all around the world. But that dream had been crushed one Sunday afternoon when I had been kidnapped after a dance class.

One would think that I would hate dancing. Especially after my captors would force me to perform for them. But it was in those moments, when I laced up my pointe shoes, that I found myself escaping into my own little world, even if briefly.

From the moment of my abduction, I tried to just take it one day at a time, not knowing which one would be my last.

I never thought that, at the age of twenty-one, I would be working as an escort in the United States of America. However, given the things I had experienced over the years, I knew that my life could have turned out much worse.

Aelbank City had become my home and I had grown to love it while welcoming a few people into my jaded heart.

Sighing softly, I used my fingers to gently push my blonde hair over one side of my shoulder. Taking my time, I deliberately traced the striking tattoo located behind my neck.

I knew what some people said about me. They called me a whore, a prized prostitute working for the King of meat hook sodomy.

The tattoo was Aleksandr's mafia insignia, an intricate design in black ink involving a key and sword. It was similar to the one that his men got on the left side of their chest. However, all the women who worked for the Russian mafia boss had their tattoos placed on the back of their necks.

Others may see the mark as demeaning, as if we–the women–were branded cattle. But in reality, this tattoo was a protective shield for many of us, especially given our past, being trafficked and forced to work in underground sex rings.

Sometimes, our former owners would come looking for us. Although, upon seeing the Russian mafia logo, most of them ended up changing their minds. No one would dare to hurt any of Aleksandr's girls, particularly seeing as Aelbank City was also under the domain of Dominic Calvetti.

No one wanted to deal with the two of them.

When Aleksandr and his men had rescued us, those who had no family to return to were offered the opportunity to remain in Aelbank City under his protection. Of course, there were different jobs to choose from as the mafia had various legitimate businesses. But many of us, myself included, decided to stay and work as escorts, relying on our bodies because it was the only life we knew.

The Russian mafia boss may run brothels and own a sex club, but he had never once forced us to do anything we did not want to do.

I had started working for Aleksandr after my nineteenth birthday.

Being an escort did not necessarily mean having sex with a client. It could simply mean offering your company to a man, woman, or even a couple. Activities could range from them wanting to rest their head on your lap while they cried, or perhaps they may request to see your toes.

It all depended on what was agreed upon between the various parties involved.

Sure, some may call Aleksandr a pimp, but I believed that he saw himself as more of a procurer of women. His role involved ensuring that we had the best security.

At the end of the day, the world would always have sex workers, and he saw it as his job to create a safe environment for the women within the profession.

After being rescued at sixteen, I had been put into an orphanage with other minors from similar situations. Having never gone to high-school, I spent four years getting my GED, burying myself in books in order to forget the horrors I had lived through since being kidnapped by Artyom and then being brought to New York by his son Joseph.

Even though I had been Joseph's favourite, he had no problem sharing me among his men so that I would not get it into my head that I was anything special.

Honestly, I had wished for death so many times. Even after being rescued, I had battled with severe depression to the point where I was surprised that those at the orphanage did not just give up on me.

Sergey would visit often to check up on how we were doing and I remembered hating the very look of his face. I detested what he had represented at that time, I thought all men were monsters, especially dark-haired Russians who were in the mafia.

I refused to speak to anyone and would always keep to myself.

Seeing my self-inflicted isolation, Aleksandr thought that it would be a good idea to introduce me to Jade. He felt that she may have been able to get through to me and he had been right.

Like me, Jade had been a victim of human trafficking and the fact that she had grown up to be such a strong woman had inspired me. She taught me to accept the support I was getting from those around me.

It did not hurt that she promised to kill anyone who even dared to look at me the wrong way.

I realised just how serious she about it the first time we ever went to the mall together. A man had been staring at me longer than was deemed acceptable, which resulted in Jade nearly gouging out his eyes and I remembered feeling so cherished due to her protectiveness.

With Jade's support, love, and friendship, I slowly began to heal.

I was still an emotional wreck on some days, but as Jade and my therapist often told me, even broken crayons could still colour. Though I still had trouble believing that I was worthy of being loved on most days, I acknowledged that I was alive and still standing.

"Broken but still beautiful in my own way," I said to myself.

Deciding that I did not want to sit by myself anymore, I gathered my black clutch and stood up. Taking my time, I carefully made my way towards the elevator.

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A/N: Here's our girl! What do you think so far?

The Russian phrase, "Bozhe, pomogi nam" means 'God help us'.