C3 Danger In The Nightclub

The third time she met Viktor was her most wretched moment.

The nightclub was the easiest place to get into trouble.

She was roofied and Dan was nowhere to be found.

Vivian's whole body was feverish and she lost all her strength and was dragged away by some punks.

The man appeared at this time, like a dream, his magnificent body, not slow but steady, stepping on the nightclub's misty and brilliant lights towards her.

"Help..."

The man was tall, not the typical handsome-looking, with blond hair, blue eyes, and a chiseled jawline, clearly not a native American.

The man narrowed his eyes and saw at a glance that the girl had been roofied.

But, it was none of his business.

He did not recognize her, nor did he want to save any girl heroically.

The girl's face was beautiful. She blushed because of the roofie, with a wasp waist and perky breast. Her confused eyes were somehow attractive.

Her whole body was exactly his type, but it wasn't enough for him to mind others' business.

What's more, this kind of trick was very common for him, he used it too, sending pretty women into other gangs as informers.

The more women to his taste, the more dangerous they are.

He was expressionless, walking through with a bunch of men following after.

He didn't even look at the punks who were holding her.

Their aura was too strong, the aura was saying, "don't mess with us!".

In America, no one in their right mind would want to provoke a group of men who spoke with a Russian accent.

What's more, at the back of the group was the leader of the city's mafia - the usually domineering leader in this group of men was like a sidekick, fools know better not to mess up with them.

The group of punks subconsciously dragged the girl behind their back and hid her.

In the noisy nightclub, where ever this group of men went, the people around were immediately as quiet as a fish, like their throats had been held.

"Дядя..." (Russian "Uncle")

The girl looked at him for help, like a pitiful kitten, and her body struggled to get to him.

"Дядя, помоги мне!" (Russian "Uncle, help me!")

The man held his step, he heard the familiar language.

He heard her murmured plea for help.

The voice was small and weak, with a hoarse cry, like a tiny feather tickling him.

He stopped.

Oh? The girl recognized him.

She called him uncle, she should be a niece.

He paused and set his eyes on the girl, whose sexy dress had a very low neckline and revealed her luring curve.

She was a teenage girl, about 5.4 feet high, brown blonde hair, delicate features more like a Eurasian, smooth and soft skin, without a bit of freckle often found in Caucasians, should be American Eurasian mixed race.

After thinking back, he still couldn't recall which business friend's daughter she was.

Is it a trap? He thought.

But none of this prevented him from saving her.

He waved his big hand, still expressionless, and made a gesture.

His men were a little confused, the boss had always ignored this kind of crap. But they still moved quickly to save her.

Without his orders, by the time he returned to the mansion, her identity details were turned out into a report page on his desk.

Right, Abel's daughter.

They weren't familiar, he was in a semi-cooperative relationship, barely an affiliate of his.

That old fox is slippery, always wandering on the edge of black and white, pleasing on both sides, although his business was not bad, such people are destined to be difficult to go to the next level.

The possibility of her being a spy has been ruled out till now, it was possible that this was really a coincidence, then he will sell the old fox a favor!

While in a blur, Vivian seemed to see the man, the dangerous and powerful man, Victor. Lev. Ivankov.

She instinctively asked him for help.

And the man, indeed, saved her.

When Vivian woke up in a daze, a group of people around her were talking in Russian:

"KO didn't say what to do with this American girl?"

"Why isn't she awake yet?"

"Why did boss pick up this trouble."

"I don't think he's taken a liking to her, right?"

"How could that be? The boss wouldn't."

"Where did KO go?"

"Boss went for a business meeting."

"Shhh, she's awake..."

She looked at a group of instantly silent, cold-faced men, indifferent and tough, Russian men.

If she didn't understand Russian, she might have thought they were not gossiping, but discussing how to dismember her corpse.

After all, their faces were too fierce.

"Where...Where am I?" As soon as she spoke it was Russian, some oddly accented, not very fluent Russian words, and immediately she noticed they turned and looking at her.

She had to speak out about her Russian ancestry and understand Russian, lest the men speak in front of her some secrets that should not be heard.

The aura of indifference and detachment that they had just built up collapsed instantly.

A bald man was a little curious. "You are one of us?"

Her face didn't look much like a Russian girl, with big bright eyes, a small face, a small straight nose, and perfect pout lips, she looked more like an Israeli.

"You look not like us!"

The words came from a xenophobic man, he was in doubt but his expression went soft a little.

"My mom is a Russian." Her mother was a mixed-race Israeli-Russian model.

This explained her lack of fluency in Russian. After all, she speaks mostly English.

She inherited her mother's beauty and blonde brown hair and was even more beautiful than her mother.

"Uncle Ivankov saved me?" As soon as the words came out, the men's cold face softened.

No wonder boss saved her, it turned out she's an old friend.

She knew his name and called him uncle.

The men immediately did not treat her as an outsider, and even some of them were smiling.