Owned by the Russian Mafia Boss: A Mob Romance (24 page)

“Dr. Nico, my name is Charley Barns,” she said as the voicemail picked it up. “I’m sorry for getting you out of bed so early. I needed to get a message to your assistant, Daphne Reynolds, and my calls to her aren’t going through. Could you give me a call back when you get this? It’s important.”

She hung up the phone and stared at it. Great, now she would need to come up with a lie when Daphne, frantic with worry, called her back. “Way to go, Charley.” With a disgusted grunt, she started to make herself a cup of coffee.

The phone rang, and her heart leapt into her throat when she saw that it was Dr. Nico. “Shit.” A million excuses ran through her head as she answered it. “Hello?”

“Hello. Is this Ms. Barns?”

Relieved that it was Dr. Nico and not Daphne, Charley sagged against the counter. “Yes, this is Charley.”

“Charley, this is Dr. Nico. I wanted to call you back and let you know that there has been some kind of mistake. I have no students by the name of Daphne, and I’m not running an assistantship program this summer. I couldn’t get the grant approved for one.”

Daphne felt herself grow cold. “Thank you,” she whispered. He kept talking, but she slowly lowered the phone and hung up. Twice was not a coincidence. “Don’t panic. Don’t panic.”

Gripping her phone, she flew up the stairs and threw open the door to Daphne’s room. At first glance, nothing looked suspicious. And then she realized that there were things missing.

“Oh God.” Her breathing became erratic as she dialed Kaz’s number. His voicemail picked up. “Kaz. Kaz. I don’t know what’s going on, but I think my new roommate is bad news. There are no textbooks in her room. No textbooks. What graduate student doesn’t have textbooks? And she lied about her job. And her other job. I caught her having sex, and she was speaking in a Russian accent. Does any of this make sense because I am freaking out!”

Realizing that talking to Kaz’s voicemail wasn’t helpful, she hung up the phone and flung open the woman’s closet.

Clothes and shoes. Nothing abnormal.

“Maybe she just took her textbooks with her,” Charley muttered. “I have seriously got to stop talking to myself. Why am I defending her? She lied to me! Of course, we’re not friends. All I should care about is that she pays her rent on time and doesn’t piss me off. Lying pisses me off. Shit.”

Charley bit down on her knuckle as she tried to figure out what to do. She tried calling Veronika next, but that also went to voicemail. What the hell? Of course, it was still early in the morning, and Veronika did say that she was planning on doing nothing but have sex all summer.

“Her papers,” she said as inspiration struck. Careful to make sure that everything in the room was the way it was when she found it, she moved back to her bedroom and dug through her desk until she found the folder with Daphne’s application information. She pulled out the reference page and dialed the number.

The number was disconnected. “Shit. Can’t just one thing about this girl check out so that I feel better?”

“Charley?”

Frightened, Charley stood up and whirled around. Daphne stood in the door with her arms crossed. “Yes?” Charley squeaked.

“Why are my papers on the floor?”

“What are you doing back here?” Charley fired back. “I thought you were off to the University.”

“I was. I came back because I forgot a book,” Daphne said slowly.

“Really? A book? Why don’t I help you find it?” Charley put her hands on her hips and faced off with the woman. Sure, she was taller, and she looked like she worked out, but Charley was stronger than she looked.

“Is something wrong?”

“You tell me. I came home early yesterday, and I heard you having sex with a Russian accent. And it’s fine if you want to lie about it. Your personal life and your personal pleasures are your own. But then your manager doesn’t recognize you. And I called Dr. Nico. He has no idea who you are. There are no textbooks in your room. And your references are bogus. Who the hell are you?”

The truth came tumbling out, and Charley was helpless to stop it. At first, she expected Daphne to be shocked. Instead, a slow smile crossed her face. “You don’t need to know my real name,” she said in a thick Russian accent. “All you need to do is answer a few questions. Answer them honestly, and we’ll leave you alone.”

“Holy shit.” Charley stumbled back. “What the fuck do you want?”

The woman advanced on her, and Charley started to doubt her ability to defend herself. In a matter of seconds, the pretty American became a sinister and serious Russian.

“Dmitri. Is he alive?”

“I’ve never met him,” Charley lied. “Veronika talked about him a few times. That’s all I know. I didn’t even realize who he was until after he was dead.”

“That did not answer the question. Is he alive?”

Charley backed into her desk and tried to stand her ground. “From what I’ve heard, he was riddled bullets. I don’t know how you expect him to survive that.”

“My employer believes he has survived more than one death. He’s quite skilled at it by now.”

“I can’t help you. I never met him. I’ve never seen him. I never spoke to him.”

Daphne smiled. “I expected that this would be an easy job. You are so transparent about how you feel. For example, when I asked you a few days ago if you were okay with me finishing all the milk, you said yes, but I could tell that you were lying. You ball your hands up in a fist. Just like you’re doing right now.”

Charley released the tension in her hands and swallowed hard. She was in way over her head. “Daphne, please. Aren’t we friends?”

The woman’s right hook came out of nowhere, connecting solidly with Charley’s jaw. Charley reacted with her own fist, and soon the two women were rolling on the floor and grappling.

“Damn it,” the woman swore as she got on top of Charley. “You didn’t look like a fighter to me. I’m impressed.”

“I grew up on the streets of Boston. Bitch, you haven’t seen anything yet!” With a growl, Charley threw the woman off her and straddled her. She reared her fist back for another punch, but a distinct click stopped her.

The barrel of a gun was pointed at her.

“Get off me,” Daphne snarled and pushed her. Charley tumbled to the floor, and she raised her head up to see a burly man with dark pools of ink for eyes casually pointing the weapon at her.

“Charley, meet my partner. Sasha.”

Charley wiped the blood off her chin. “Sasha. I take it he’s your partner in more ways than one?”

“Let’s just say he satisfies on multiple levels. Now then, let’s get serious. You gave it your best shot, and now you’re outnumbered. I’m going to ask you again. Is Dmitri still alive?”

Aware that she was probably going to eat the bullet any second now, Charley still managed to roll her eyes. “Are we still on this? You’re like a fucking broken record. Obviously you think he’s still alive. But I can’t help you. I haven’t seen him. I have absolutely no proof that he’s alive or what he’s doing.”

“So you know what he looks like?”

Was she serious? Charley snorted. So that’s what this was about. Whoever hired Daphne didn’t know what Dmitri looked like. Obviously they didn’t know whether the dead man found in the house was Dmitri or not.

Except that the police had drilled Charley for hours after the shooting. They’d showed her the photos until she thought she was going to be sick. The man she knew as Dmitri, the man she’d only met once, was the man on the floor of the safe house.

“I have no idea what he looks like,” she spat.

“Why would you lie for him? Why would you die for him?” Daphne asked as she reached down and tilted Charley’s head up. Charley met her eyes defiantly.

“It has nothing to do with him,” Charley said with a small smile. “It has everything to do with you. I invited you into my home. I ate with you, I drank with you, and I laughed with you. I trusted you, and now you have a gun to my head. I would rather bleed out on this carpet than give you anything that you want.”

Daphne snarled and snatched her hand back. “Shoot her,” she ordered.

Charley dove for the bed and wrapped her hands around her baseball bat. As the Sasquatch pulled the trigger, she rolled out of the way and swung the bat. It connected with his knees, and he went down hard.

Both Daphne and Charley went for the gun, but Daphne was quicker. As she lifted it, Charley swung the bat again. This time, she hit the gun and it went flying into the wall. She didn’t wait around to see if anyone went for it. Instantly, she was on her feet and flying down the stairs.

To her complete dismay, the front door flew open. “Hurry up,” Dmitri ordered through clenched teeth.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she growled at him as she swung the bat half-heartedly.

He grabbed it from her and shook his head. “Move.”

She barreled passed him. A bullet hit the sidewalk next to her, and she screamed.

“Car. Get in the fucking car,” he hissed as he put his body between her and the house. “Fuck. Not your car. My car.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know which car is yours?” she screamed back as she began to run in a zig-zag motion. He grabbed her hand and pulled her down the driveway.

“You couldn’t actually park in the driveway?” she snapped as she dove in the car and buckled her seatbelt.

“To be perfectly honest, I didn’t think you’d still be alive.” He started the car and drove out of her neighborhood like a bat out of hell.

“My neighbors are going to hate me,” she said as she pressed her head to the window.

“It’s Russia, sweetheart. It’s expected.”

Chapter Four

The boy had been a gangly teenager, and now, just two months past his sixteenth birthday, he was looking more like a man. He’d filled out. His ego had blossomed. And while he drank with his uncle and fucked the girls at his school, he had but one mission.

Kill Fedor Saiko.

As he stepped lightly down the stairs to the basement, he paused just outside the door. He’d thought the room would be empty and he could get some practice with the heavy weight bag, but voices floated around the corner.

“You betray me? Me? I gave you everything!” Ivan shouted in an enraged voice.

“Please. I didn’t betray you. I didn’t know. I didn’t know,” a stranger begged.

The teenager stepped back in surprise, and his foot struck a bottle. The glass fell to the floor and rolled across the wooden slats.

“Show yourself,” Ivan barked suddenly.

The boy squared his shoulders and walked in. Never apologize. Ivan had taught him that. With an impassive face, he cocked his head and surveyed the scene. A friend of his uncle’s was tied to a chair. Blood ran down the side of his head.

“You.” Ivan relaxed. “Come. Come tell me what I should do. This man has eaten my food and slept under my roof. He has shared a bed with my girls, and he has drunk my liquor. Now I find that he has betrayed me. He has sold out one of my own. What should I do with him?”

“Impose the same kindness upon him that he has shown you,” the boy said tonelessly. The phrase had been seared into his head.

“Good.” Ivan held out the gun. “It is time you feel what it is like. Make your old man proud. Prepare yourself for your own vengeance by metering out mine.”

Taking the gun, the teenager easily swung it around to the man’s head. He should have felt something. He was no longer aiming the weapon at tin cans or targets. He was no longer throwing knives into tree trunks. This was a living and breathing being in front of him. He should have felt something.

Ivan had taught him to feel nothing. He had told him that coldness was survival.

But as he pulled the trigger, shock and disbelief stunned his system. What had he done? Why had he done that?

Dropping the gun, he turned and ran.

***

The ride was tense. The only place Dmitri could think to take her was his hotel room, but now that they were in the car together, the hotel room seemed far too intimate. “I can drop you off somewhere.”

She swung an incredulous gaze his way. “Is that a joke?”

“No. Why would I joke about that?”

“I’m a student. I don’t have backup places to stay for when my roommate tries to kill me.” She paused and cocked her head. “Although, based on my track record, that’s probably a good idea.”

“Charley…”

She held up her hands. “No. We’re not going to have a conversation where you tell me that I’m not safe or you tell me that you’re sorry I’m involved in this. Do you know what we’re going to talk about?”

“What?” he asked wearily.

“We’re going to talk about why this is happening. I met you once. Just once. Kazimir was injured, and Veronika was freaking out, and you came over. I thought you were Kaz’s friend. I actually thought it was kind of sweet. Do you know what happened after her father shot himself in that supposed safe house?” She laughed. “Of course you don’t know. You were pretending to be dead. So I’ll tell you what happened. I was detained for hours because the body of a feared assassin was found in that house. And they thought I could identify you. I sat there for hours looking at pictures of dead bodies while a bunch of strangers tried to gauge my reaction. Do you know how often I see dead bodies? The answer is never. I see them on television. I see them in paintings that are hundreds of years old. I don’t have to see them up close and personal!”

He let her get all of her anger out before he ran his hand through his hair. “I actually did know all of that.”

“You did?”

Dmitri cleared his throat and nodded. “I had to know if you or Veronika or Kazimir identified my body. I had to know what you said.”

“What did you find out?”

“You all lied for me. Even you. I suppose Veronika told you to do that.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t see Veronika or Kazimir until afterward. I was taken from the fucking university library, Dmitri. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was? I almost flunked my exams because of you.”