Rocking With The Bratva Brat

Text Convos

Hadlee set a timer to make sure she didn’t respond to him too quickly. Let him stew a bit. She found the best way to get a reaction from the man was to not to answer him right away. It seemed he possessed a quick temper and liked it best when she jumped when he clicked his fingers. As if.

Settling onto the edge of a shelf, she tucked her foot under her behind and waited for the timer to count down.

Before she could formulate a response even in her head another message popped up.

“How did you get into my dressing room? This place has state of the art security. Are you a ghost coming through walls?”

She snickered and unable to stop herself typed back, “if I was coming, you’d hear it through the walls. Also, your security sucked tonight. There are a lot of dark corners in the club.”

“Where are you?”

“Gone. I left my gift and vacated. I’m not stupid. I know better than to mess around in a club owned by the Russian mob.”

“???”

Hadlee laughed out loud and typed back, “the club is part owned by Liev Orlov who also sponsors a lot of your career. I do my research, Eric.”

“What is on this USB? I haven’t had time to look at it and I won’t be able to until I’m back at my place. Please tell me it’s nudes.”

“I went to a club today and took a little video of my performance. Enjoy.”

“What kind of club?”

“The kind where clothing is optional. I work there to supplement my income. Life is expensive.”

Once when a rehearsal was cancelled due to the teacher’s illness, she’d snuck off to a strip club her parents had no idea she frequented with a couple of the girls. The club was recommended by one of the Italian princesses, Carlotta, and owned by one of Carlotta’s aunts who was furious with the patriarchy. The aunt ran the establishment as a f**k you to the mob boss who was her brother. She’d allowed Hadlee to put a costume and a wig on and dance for a couple of hours. Since then, she allowed Hadlee to dance in disguise so long as Hadlee promised to not bring trouble of the Russian variety to her doorstep. She knew who Hadlee was and swore to keep her identity protected but it came at a cost of not putting the woman in the bratva’s crosshairs. She also liked the money Hadlee was bringing into the club.

Hadlee for her part did it more for the rebellion than anything else, knowing her father would torch the club to the ground if he found out she was dancing, despite the hypocrisy of it. However, the spare change was enough to buy bulk sim cards for her friends’ phones to barter or to keep her in stock of wigs and lingerie and all the other things she wanted to trade.

Today, she’d asked the club manager to record her routine. Then she’d gone back to school, put the video on a USB and then tonight dropped it off along with the thong panties she’d worn on stage on Eric’s dressing room table.

“You’re killing me, sweetheart.”

“I don’t want you dead, Eric.”

“What is your name? Come back to the club and we’ll have a drink and maybe you can show me your dance moves in person.”

“Nope. When we finally meet in person, I want you to be ready for the reality of me.”

“Are you catfishing me?”

“To what end? You have nothing I want other than your heart, Eric. I’ve followed your career a long time. I know every lyric of every song you’ve ever written. I know you better than you know yourself.” She wasn’t lying. She knew everything from his date of birth to the size of his shoes, his favorite food, and the color of his comforter in his apartment. The last one was because she and her mom helped him redecorate it a year ago. She’d stolen so much of his s**t under the guise of downsizing she could build a shrine for him.

“Have we met?”

“Multiple times.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Sadly, you don’t give me a second look in real time. Eventually though, you’re going to miss me when I stop doing this.”

“Or you’ll get caught and I’ll have to spank your ass before f*****g you sideways.”

“Not into spanking. Violence isn’t my thing.” She shuddered thinking of all the violence which surrounded her all the time. Nope. Definitely not.

“Fine. I’m sure I can produce more creative ways to discuss your stalking behavior.”

“Not a stalker. Simply a fan, a very horny fan with the means and abilities to give you treats. I’d never hurt you or cause you true distress. If I thought for one moment you weren’t appreciating my gifts or my attention, I would stop. Do you want me to stop?”

There was a long pause before he answered her and then the answer made her lips curve into a wide smile.

“No. I only wish you could hand deliver the gifts in person so I could reward you with a gift of my own.”

“But then you wouldn’t be interested anymore.”

“Why?”

“I’m not your type.”

“Based on the scent of these panties, we’ll agree to disagree.”

She watched the ellipses at the bottom of her phone knowing he was still typing and waited with bated breath and then he typed again.

“Are you a nerd or something? You should know I don’t judge people on appearance. I once dated a girl with a huge nose.”

“You’ve dated ones with huge egos too. I’m definitely not a nerd.”

“Were you not good in school?”

“I sucked in school.”

“Who did you suck in school?”

“Naughty Eric.”

“I want to see you.”

“Watch the USB and you will. I have to go now. I have an early morning, and your second set is supposed to start in ten. Think of me when you’re getting off in the shower later.”

“How do you know I’ll do that? You have a camera set up in my shower?”

“Nope. I tape myself, not you. I’d never violate your privacy in such a way. I simply know how damn hot I look in the video and if it doesn’t get added to your spank bank then you have ice in your veins. I’d be tempted to think you’re more involved with the Russians than simply being backed by them. They are pretty cold.”

“Would it scare you?”

The question made her sit up. Holy s**t! Was he doing things for her father?

“No, I wouldn’t be scared. Surprised maybe but not scared. Good men do bad things all the time the same way bad men do good things.”

“Not everything is black and white.”

“Agreed. Get ready to go back on stage. Right about now, your manager is knocking on your door telling you that you have two minutes.”

“You’re very much aware of my schedule. You sure you’re not dangerous?”

“Harmless. Like I said you need only say the word and I’ll stop. Have fun Eric.”

She shut her phone down not wanting to wait for a goodbye which was unlikely to come. He usually just shut the phone off anyway. Tucking the phone back into the box which housed an unused giant sized purple dildo, knowing nobody would dare open it if they came across it hidden in a tall boot in her closet, she smiled, more than a little pleased with herself.

She exited the bathroom and pulled her usual phone out of her pocket and dropped it onto the wireless charger on her nightstand and rubbed her forehead. The conversation with Eric replaying in her mind. Was he working for her Dad in some capacity, aside from the obvious of her father getting a cut of Eric’s profits?

Folding her legs under her, she sat in the middle of the bed and for the first time in her life considered whether chasing Eric was a mistake. If he worked for her father as more than a rock star, then it meant he was likely far more astute than she gave him credit for. He might also have a streak of violence she wasn’t sure she wanted to learn about. Both thoughts made her worried she might have missed a key detail in who Eric was.

He saw her as a sister figure. And despite her plotting ways to make him see her in other ways she felt they were still too far off but now learning he was more than her mother’s protégé who her father backed made her consider she might be over her head. For the last almost three years, she’d been the fan he could never meet. She’d send him love letters, sexy treats as she called them and naughty videos which never showed her face or any of her birthmarks or telltale attributes. It seemed he too was hiding a secret from her, and it was worrisome.

Did he become this way because of the b***h from his past? Peyton Westbrook. Eric’s on-again-off-again girlfriend in high school never accepted the message when they broke up after graduation. The girl was, more than Hadlee even, obsessed with Eric. Every girl he tried to date, Peyton interfered. It didn’t matter who tried to reason with her, the woman who was now working as an attorney in the entertainment industry, frequently thwarted any attempts for Eric to move on.

She knew he’d hooked up with Peyton more than once in the past. She’d recently heard him tell her father s*x with a crazy woman was crazy hot, but he swore he hadn’t touched her in the last nine years, and she still wouldn’t give up. For a time, she knew Eric thought she was Peyton playing games, but she’d made it clear to him she knew of the other woman, and they were in fact separate entities.

How to convince a man you weren’t his stalker but simply a horny and attentive fan?

Use your connections to Italian mafia princesses. The Italians ran a lot of the production companies in New York and Peyton worked for them as an entertainment lawyer. One box of macarons from a French patisserie near the Orlov family home in France provided to one of her circle, the girl whose family worked in the same building as Peyton Westbrook was able to plug a device into the woman’s laptop so Gabby could hack it and get the file on Eric. The file was one of the first and few gifts she’d given Eric which hadn’t been s****l in nature. She’d delivered it with the promise she was more than a pretty face and hot body and if he wanted a true-life partner she was up to the task.

She’d been eighteen almost nineteen when she’d pulled this feat and since then, Eric was far more communicative with her in their text messages.

Now all she needed to do was stick to the long game. One way or another, she was going to make him hers. But as she sat there in her bed, while her friends were out having fun with their boyfriends, being typical young American women with lives to live, she felt a bitter sting of loneliness, and coupled with the newfound knowledge there was a darker side to the man she craved, she doubted herself.

Could she continue playing this out for another fourteen months? Worse, what would happen if he found out it was her and was revolted and turned her into her father or made it clear he wasn’t interested in her.

The thought plagued her nightmares.