God, you’re stupid.
I nodded slowly to myself. I knew that already.
My numb feet took me three more blocks before I came across a sandwich bar that was closing. A man with short brown hair stacked chairs from outside the deli and brought them in before moving to close the door.
“Wait,” I called, rushing over.
The man frowned down at me, his dark eyes scrutinizing my every move. “What? We’re closed.”
I lowered my eyes and spoke quietly. “I’m sorry to bother you, sir. I was just wondering whether you had any food that you were about to throw out.” I peered up at him. “Anything would do. I’m not picky.”
“You’re hungry?” He scowled at me, his lip curling. “Get a job.”
The door moved to close a second time and I panicked, placing my foot in the way. My eyes widened in shock at the bold move. That wasn’t like me at all. The door was stopped a few inches before it shut, and the man looked down at my foot before looking back up at me and glowering. “I should beat your ass, girl. Move your foot or I’ll break the fucking thing.”
My lips quivered as my vision blurred. “I’m so hungry. Please,” I begged. “Please.”
His scowl left him a moment to study my face. He opened the door another few inches before looking up and down the street. “You want food?”
I nodded enthusiastically.
He leaned back a little to leer at me. “Suck my dick and you’ll get fed.”
I didn’t believe it possible, but I paled further then whispered, “I just want something to eat. It doesn’t have to be much. I-I,” I stuttered, “I don’t want to do that. Please.”
His scowl returned, harder than before. “Obviously not hungry enough.” He jerked his chin toward the street. “Get the fuck out of here, bitch.”
As he closed the door, locking it, I fell into full-fledged panic, my stomach turning violently. I threw myself at the glass door, pounding my fists against it until my knuckles throbbed sorely. My voice broke as I cried quietly, tears of regret sliding down my cheeks, “Please! I-I’m sorry! I’ll do it!” But the man left my vision as he walked into the back room, turning the lights off behind him.
My shoulders shook as I sobbed in complete silence.
Angry with myself, I yelled a broken, “I’ll do it, dammit!” and slammed my fist against the glass.
But the door remained closed. I slid down the glass door to sit on the icy-cold cement of the sidewalk, crying weakly. My head pounding, hungry, heartsick, and humiliated, my tears stopped suddenly as I closed my eyes and realized my situation was worse than I thought.
I was officially at an all-time low. But not for long. I was desperate, and desperation was a damn good motivator.
Chapter Two
Lev
I stood by the door staring at my brother as he spoke to the man trembling in the chair by the solid marble desk. It didn’t take much for me to recognize he was angry. That familiar bored glare told me everything I needed to know. He didn’t raise his voice. He never raised his voice. That wasn’t Sasha’s style.
“How long we been friends, Paolo?” He spoke slowly but firmly.
The man didn’t answer. There was no point in answering. Sasha wasn’t friends with anyone. He merely tolerated people.
Sasha looked up at me, his light brown eyes hard. “How long we been friends with Paolo, Lev?”
My mind was quick to calculate. I answered immediately, “Three years, two months, and four days.”