Nikolai
It’s Friday. I require a payment from you before ten, I text Zane as we’re setting up for the game. Dima’s back in town for the weekend, which helps my unsettled feelings.
Zane texts back immediately, On my way now with a big one.
A big one. Interesting.
I knew the kid could pull something out of his ass to settle up with me. He may be young, but he’s smart and has connections and resources. He grew up with money, even if he doesn’t have it now.
Strange that I’m relieved for his sister that he’s delivering. I don’t like innocents being harmed by our activities. Not that she would be harmed. She tried to involve herself, and I find her a serious temptation.
Zane gives the secret knock twenty minutes later, and Oleg lets him in. I hide my smirk when he shudders a bit, eyeing Oleg’s meaty fists. The bruises on his face have turned purple and yellow. He’s definitely subdued-that cocky shit apparently got beaten out of him last week.
He’s wearing a leather riding jacket, and he’s got a red AGV motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm that’s probably worth around a grand new. I might be able to get $500 for it, which means I’d give him $200 credit.”What do you have for me?” I ask, walking behind the folding table we have set up near the door of the suite to check people in.
He places a motorcycle key on the table then reaches in the inside pocket of the leather jacket to retrieve a title and a parking ticket for the hotel garage, which he lays beside the key. “I guess you already knew about this. Probably know how much it’s worth, too.”
I nod. “2015 Ducati. Valued at twelve grand.” I pick up the title and examine it. “This isn’t in your name.”
Zane gives a huff of annoyance. “It’s in my dad’s name, but he’s dead. I can just sign his name, okay? I’m sure you have some notary you can coerce into forging it.”
He’s not wrong. We have access to anything we need to move stolen goods.
“Where is the bike now?”
“In the parking garage downstairs, space A 31.”
With another guy I might go and make sure, but I have Zane fully under my thumb. He’s not going to screw me. He’s not prepared to disappear and leave town forever. Besides, I know where his sister lives.
“All right.” I look over my shoulder to where Dima sits at his laptop. “Twelve grand off Zane’s account.”
“What about this?” He sets the helmet down. “It’s an AGV. Worth a thousand bucks.”
“A thousand new. I’ll give you two hundred.”
A muscle ticks in Zane’s jaw, but he thumps the helmet down on the table. “Fine.”
Dima makes note of it.
“Hang on, there’s more. This should cover everything.” Zane reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small ring box. I make a dissenting sound, but when he opens it, I am wowed by the diamond ring inside. The stone is big, and the setting is artsy and expensive.
“You steal this?”
Zane meets my gaze from under his dark bangs. I realize he has freckles, too. I mean, I guess I noticed them before, but I pick up on them more now that I’ve seen how cute they look on his sister. “Yeah,” he admits.
“Moving a hot diamond isn’t as easy as notarizing a motorcycle title.”
“Well, that thing is worth a lot. Whatever you get for it should cover me.”
“I doubt that.” The ring is spectacular, but it isn’t worth thirty grand, especially not hot. Still, he made an effort, I’ll give him that. “I’ll try to move it. You’ll get credit for two-thirds of what I get.””Two-thirds?” Zane splutters.
“It’s a generous deal, and I only offer it because I’m fond of you.”
Zane lets out a snort. “Could’ve fooled me,” he mutters.
“Believe it,” Dima says. “Nikolai’s pulling all his punches with you, kid. Show some fucking appreciation.” Adrian and Oleg both glower at him.
“I’m assuming the risk of moving stolen goods.” I raise my brows. “Or you can move it yourself and give me the cash,” I offer, knowing full well he’ll get bent over and fucked in the ass at a pawn shop.
He knows it, too. He shoots me a resentful look. “So we’re good?”
“Da.” I purposely say nothing more to make his brain work.
“Like… good-good?”
“Nyet.”
“Aw, come on with the Russian one-word answers. What’s the deal?”
I smile. This is why I like the kid. He’s not in any position of power, but he’s still willing to throw some weight around and make demands. If he ever gets his shit together, he could go far in this world.
Or he could crash and burn.
Which would be a shame for that cute sister of his, who seems to care a shit-ton about him.
“No payment required next week. It may take me a bit to liquidate the ring. I’ll let you know what I get for it and what else I need from you. And you’re still not welcome at my table.”
He bobs his head. “Okay. Thanks.” There’s still that note of sulky resentment in his voice. I guess he won’t be coming back to my table once he’s cleared his debt. Which is probably for the best, but I do miss his presence. Except I miss the charismatic conversationalist Zane, not the coked out asshole Zane.
“I’ll take the jacket, too.” I’m being a dick. Rubbing his nose in it. Whatever. I let him off easy compared to most.
“What? No. This isn’t worth that much, and I’ll freeze my ass off out there.”
It’s true. Autumn has fallen in Chicago and the temperatures plummeted this week. Being from Russia, it’s nothing to me, but Zane will be cold in his shirtsleeves.
“Take it off.”
“Now you’re just being a dick.”
Oleg steps forward menacingly and Zane flinches. “Okay, fine. Have my jacket.” He peels it off and slaps it down on the table. “Anything else you want? My underwear? Socks?”I smirk and hold his gaze without saying anything.
He shakes his head and starts to leave then turns back. “How much for the jacket?”
My smile grows wider because I was waiting for him to ask. I could easily tell him it’s mine as a late penalty, but instead I shrug. “Fifty.”
He nods and leaves without another word.
“Dude, why are you giving him a pass?” Dima asks. “I mean, I liked him, too, but he turned into a douche.”
I shrug. “Maybe a little redirection will put him back on the right path.”
It’s not that I’m invested now because I met his spark-plug of a sister.
Dima watches me thoughtfully. It’s hard to hide anything from a twin. “You like his sister.” He shoots it out like an accusation.
Adrian and Oleg both swivel to stare at me.
Blyad’.
No sense in denying it. It would only make Dima ride me harder.
“I wouldn’t mind taking her in trade for what Zane owes,” I admit then hold up my hand when I see Adrian’s nostrils flare with a sharp breath. “If she was on board. I don’t take unwilling women.”But I know I could make Chelle Goldberg willing. I saw how she responded to me.
It would be so easy to melt that resistance and get her to give it all up to me. Especially because she’d do anything to get her brother off my hook.
But I don’t just want a woman who is willing to have sex.
God help me, I’m becoming weak. A total sap. Because I want what my bratva brothers have. Ravil, Maxim, Oleg, Pavel, and Dima.
I want the whole package. I want love.
Chelle
“What’s the latest with Zane?” Shanna, my bestie, is on my couch drinking a mimosa. We don’t get much time to just chill together since I work days and she works nights. I hang out at The Red Room on Wednesdays when she works happy hour instead of the late shift, and about once a month, we do Sunday brunch at my house. A late afternoon one since she sleeps until noon. This past Wednesday, I’d told her the whole saga of finding Zane beat up and going to meet with the Russians to make a deal.
“He offered up his motorcycle to Nikolai on Friday. I haven’t heard anything since. I guess I should text to make sure he’s still alive.” I say it, but I don’t make any move to grab my phone. Zane was right when he said he’s of no use to them dead. If he brought his motorcycle to them, I’m sure they took it, and he’s fine.
“So it’s Nikolai now, hmm?” Shanna teases, waggling her brows. “You’re on a first name basis with this Russian loan shark?”
My face grows warm, but I own it. “Nikolai, the scary-but-sexy bookie. And no, he told me never to come back.”
“I sort of love him for that,” Shanna says, draining her glass and setting it on my coffee table. “It’s kind of gallant. Like he was trying to protect you.”
“You can’t love the guy who beat my brother up. Do I need to show you the picture of his face again?”
“I know, but that’s what makes it sort of interesting. Like on one hand, the guy’s beating up Zane, but then on the other, he’s refusing to take your car and telling you to let Zane fail on his own.”
I roll my eyes even though I harbor a similar fascination with Nikolai’s behavior. Romanticizing the bad guy is a stupid thing to do. “Well, it doesn’t matter because, hopefully, I will never see him again.”
“Which might make him the perfect option for a one-nighter.”
“Shut up. I don’t do one-night stands.”
“I know. That’s why I’m saying this kind of guy is perfect. Because you would never in a million years actually date him. He is sexy. He was giving you the I’m-hot-for-you vibe. That’s the kind of thing you should go for next time.”
My stomach twists. “I don’t do players.” I learned that lesson in high school in the very hardest way.
“You’d be the player. You just need to flip the script.”
I shake my head. “This whole conversation is moot because I’m not going to see him again.”
“Well, if you do, I say drag him into a closet and let him put his tattooed fingers all over you.” She wiggles her digits in the air.
I laugh. “You’re a dork.”
“Yep. A dork who’s getting laid when she wants it.”
“But not by your boss,” I throw back because she has an enormous crush on him. “And also, you work in a bar.” I would never want Shanna’s life. I mean, I feel like she should get a real job and grow up, but I’m also jealous of it. She makes more money in tips as a bartender than I do at my professional job, which is why she abandoned her degree in journalism to sling drinks.”And you come into said bar every Wednesday. You could pick a guy up any time. In fact, I dare you to.”
“And I dare you to tell Derek how you feel,” I challenge, referring to her boss who is oblivious to her hopeless crush.
“We’ve been over this. Not going to happen. I like my job too much, and I like what we have. I don’t want to ruin it.”
“I know, I know. I’ve heard it all before.” I pick up our empty champagne glasses to carry them to the kitchen. I need to work on the ad campaign for that diamond ring, so I can’t get too tipsy. I’m definitely a one-drink wonder.
Shanna follows and helps me throw our brunch dishes into the dishwasher.
“See you Wednesday.” When we finish, she gives me a hug.
“See you then. Enjoy the rest of your day off!”
“You, too, babe.”
She leaves, and I head to my purse to get the ring to study again. I decided this morning that not being able to lock it into the safe was actually a blessing because now I can look at it while I brainstorm ad ideas.
I open my purse and dig around. I haven’t left my apartment all weekend, so I didn’t bother taking the ring out on Friday. It should be right here…
I swish my hand along the bottom with more energy when I don’t find it then yank the sides open wider.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
My heart starts pounding. I’m sure it’s here. It has to be right here. I never left, and I saw it when I was digging my keys out to come in on Friday night.
I turn the purse upside down and empty it completely.
What. The fuck?
No ring box.
That can’t be right.
I pick up the empty purse and search every corner again, opening the small zippered pockets, even though I know it wouldn’t have fit in them.
Where in the hell is the ring? I feel like throwing up. My hands are clammy, my head is feverish. Or maybe that’s from the champagne.
“Please, please, please,” I murmur as I once more search through the contents of my purse on the coffee table. There’s no ring box. I look at my apartment door. Could someone have come in while I was sleeping? But I keep it locked. That doesn’t make sense.
I grab my wallet and crack it wide.
Fuck.
My cash is gone.
How… when…? I gasp, clapping a hand over my mouth, my heart hammering even harder.
Zane.
Fucking Zane.
My fingers shake as I snatch up my phone to call him.
He doesn’t answer.
“Zane!” I scream into his voicemail. “Where’s the ring? That belonged to a customer at work. I’m going to get fired. I’m going to go to jail. What the fuck?”
As soon as I hang up, I text the same thing, ending the text with words that make me start to cry. If you don’t call me back in five minutes, I’m calling the cops on you.
He calls. “Chelle. Okay, listen. I’m sorry. I made a mistake. I definitely shouldn’t have taken that ring. I was panicked about getting beat up again, okay? And they could hurt you. I was trying to protect you.”
Fury races through my veins, exploding out of my throat. “Protect me?” I shout. “Protect me by getting me fired and putting me in jail? Thanks a whole fucking lot!””Okay, okay, maybe it’s not too late. I just brought it to them on Friday. Maybe they haven’t pawned it yet. He said it might take awhile.”
“You…” -my brain flits over a million words trying to pick the right one- “asshole!”
“I’m totally an asshole. I fucked up, okay? I’ll try to call Nikolai.”
“Call me back,” I order, ending the call. I pace around the room, seething. The contents of my stomach swim around like I ate angry eels.
When Zane doesn’t call me back immediately, I call him again.
“He didn’t answer. I don’t think it’s actually a cell number. They probably use a VPN for game communication, so it can’t be traced.”
Fuck!
“Give me the number,” I say, in case Nikolai just doesn’t want to answer a call from Zane.
“I’ll text it to you now,” he mutters and hangs up.
I try, but there’s no answer, and it doesn’t go to voicemail. I call Zane back. “We need to find him. Right away. I can’t go back to work tomorrow without this ring.”
Zane’s quiet for a moment, then he says. “There’s a building on Lake Shore Drive. I don’t know the address, but I heard the neighborhood calls it The Kremlin because only Russians live there. I don’t actually know if Nikolai lives there. I brought it up, and he neither confirmed nor denied. I’ll bet he does.””So I’m supposed to find some random building on Lake Shore drive without an address?”
“I don’t know, Chelle, that’s all I’ve got. You want me to go down there with you, and we can ask around?”
I draw in a measured breath and exhale. As I do, the movie reel of me telling Janette I took the ring home, and my brother gave it to the Russian mafiya plays out in my head. I clutch my stomach. I’m definitely going to puke. Desperation swirls around my head, hot and heavy.
“Okay. yeah. We’d better go down there.” If that’s the only lead we have, I have to follow it.
“Okay, pick me up?”