by Riley Storm
“I see.” She didn’t. “Why do you need that?”
“It’s a necessity for me to be granted something. From my family’s will.” He added the last part so quickly that she knew immediately he wasn’t telling the truth. Not all of it.
“What’s my share?”
Kirell coughed suddenly.
Covering your surprise? I’m not that easily convinced to help you out. If you’re getting rich because of my help, you’re damn right I want a piece of the pie.
“You are already getting something. A husband, remember? You solve your problem, I solve mine.”
“Sounds to me like you get an awful lot more than I do. I think a gesture of good faith is in order as well.”
Kirell was shaking now, unable to contain his laughter. “The woman is an extortionist,” he muttered, more to himself than to her, though she could hear him fine, thanks to a well-timed change of songs from the DJ.
“I just want to make sure everything is fair.”
“Fine. Your share will be…is ten fair?”
She inhaled slowly through her nose. “Ten thousand?” It was far more than she’d expected him to offer, but if she couldn’t keep her cool, he’d realize that. Natalia had never had much of a poker face, but she was learning quickly with Kirell that it would be a good time to develop one.
“Yes. That should be enough.” His voice had become firm. He’d noticed.
Damn. I guess I won’t be negotiating for more.
“And it’s all a sham? I don’t have to sleep with you?”
Kirell nodded. “Correct. That part would be entirely optional and up to you.” His eyes roved over her outfit, not making an effort to disguise what he was looking at. “Though I am forced to admit that I wouldn’t object to that course of action.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t,” she said with a snort of laughter, doing her best not to get too flustered at the idea of being taken to his bed.
Without warning, Kirell stood. For the first time, she got an up-close demonstration of just how fucking big he was. He was huge. She suddenly felt incredibly tiny next to him as he slipped out of the booth. His hand slipped into a pocket of his suit jacket, retrieving a card which he lay flat on the table and pushed it across to her.
She went to grab it, only to find her hand snatched up in his.
“It was a pleasure, Natalia Kristoff. Take the night and think about it. Call me.” He brought her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips across the knuckles. “Any drinks you and your friend want are on me tonight.”
Then he was gone, disappearing down the stairs. She watched him move through the crowd, like a shark passing through a school of fish. People parted around him smoothly, closing up the gap as he walked out the exit, not bothering to acknowledge a single person as he went.
To her knowledge, he’d spoken to her, the owner or whoever it was when he’d first arrived, and the security guard. Nobody else.
Who the hell are you, Kirell Ursa, and why do you need me?
8
“When are you going to call him?”
They were lounging on the couches at Loren’s place, having crashed there after coming home from Para late at night. True to his word, Kirell had paid for all their drinks. She had no idea how, since he hadn’t talked to anyone, but anytime they went up to a bartender they weren’t asked for any money. The drinks were just handed to them.
“Who says I’m going to call him?” she countered lazily, tiredly contemplating whether or not to think about breakfast.
“Oh, please. The least you’re going to do is call him, and you know it. He was so hot Nat, how could you not?” Loren said dreamily.
“You just want to fuck him.”
“That’s not true,” her best friend said with a pout. “He’s yours. But if he has a brother…” she winked.
“I’m impressed you can say no. He is quite handsome.”
“So you do think he’s hot,” Loren crowed victoriously.
“I never said he wasn’t hot.” She adjusted the pillows under her. “Only an idiot would argue otherwise, Lore. He’s quite hot. And that stare of his, his eyes, it’s so intense!”
“I think you want to fuck him.”
Loren was only teasing, but Natalia had a hard time openly denying it. He was extremely attractive, and she wouldn’t object to sleeping with him purely on looks alone. She needed a connection to him before she would do that, though.
Contemplating the situation didn’t make the decision any easier for her. “What if he’s not for real?” she said. “He could be in organized crime.”
“You’ve watched one too many mob movies, where they all spend their time in the clubs and shit,” Loren told her, sitting up. “Seriously, mobsters don’t actually do that, you know.”
“He could be bad news though. He’s attractive, charming, a very smooth talker. It’s guys like him that lure women into things like human trafficking to begin with.”
Loren was staring at her wide-eyed. “You’re ridiculous, Nat. Shit like that doesn’t exist here.”
“You’re not that naïve Loren, so don’t act like it. It’s not becoming of you.”
Her friend sat up as the conversation turned serious. “You don’t really think he’s into trafficking people, do you?”
“There are bad people here, Lore. The same ones from back home that bring the girls over here in the first place don’t just turn them loose out of the kindness of their hearts. It’s much cheaper to find local talent to fill the ranks of their strippers and prostitutes. Just because it’s harder to do, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”
Loren frowned. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to remind you of home.”
“It’s fine. It’s not your fault I grew up in a shitty part of the country. If I was hideous, I would be fine.”
“Do you think he’s part of that stuff?”
Natalia didn’t have to think about it. “No. There was something…different, about him. He wasn’t like the other guys I met, even the suave ones.”
“What was his name again?”
She pulled out the card, turning it over. “Kirell.”
“Right, Kirell. Did he give you a last name? Did you tell me that last night?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.” The name was right there on the card in front of her. “Kirell Ursa.”
“WHAT?!” Loren nearly jumped her. “Did you say Kirell Ursa?”
The strength of that reaction had Natalia doubting what she’d said, but it was plain as day on the card. “Ursa.” She spelled it out. “Is that a big deal?”
“Are you kidding me? You don’t recognize the name?”
Shaking her head, she tried to get her friend to explain. “Why is this a big deal?”
“Oh, my goodness. Right. You’re not from here, I always forget that. Okay, well rumor has it that Plymouth Falls was founded by three families. Canis. Drakos. And Ursa.”
“So, it’s an old family?” She didn’t see how this was poignant.
“Yes. Very old. Old blood. Old money. Power. They still live here, in some mansion on the outskirts. Nobody has ever seen the place, but they know the name, Nat. The Ursa are very reclusive. They operate in their own circles, but show up here in town every so often, and everyone in power fawns all over them. If he really is one of the Ursa, you need to call him and take him up on his offer.”
By this point, Loren was pleading with her to do it. Natalia still wasn’t sure. The story her friend told her was a wild one, but now that she was sober, the entire idea of a fake marriage was wearing on her even more.
“I don’t know.”
“Oh, come on. It would be so cool. You’d probably see some stuff nobody else in this town has ever seen or experienced. Most people never even talk to one of the three families, let alone get to be fake married to one!”
“You’re serious,” Natalia said heavily.
“Dead serious! You should stop thinking this over and call him already. Right now.”
Loren snatched the card from Natalia’s hand and started tapping at her own phone.
Natalia was getting nervous. “What are you doing?”
“Here.” Loren tossed her phone over. It was calling the number on the card.
Scrambling for it, she grabbed the phone and quickly hit the red end-call button. “Are you nuts?”
“Are you?” Loren pointed at the phone in her lap and then crossed her arms. “Call the number already.”
“I’m not sure…”
“Yes, you are, you’re just stalling. Dial the number already.”
“I hate it when you call me out,” she said, unhappy about being so transparent.
“Stop being a wuss, and I won’t have to.” Loren stuck out her tongue, then gestured with her chin at the phone again.
“Okay, okay.” Grabbing it, Natalia redialed the number and held the phone to her ear.
It rang three times, then a deep, throaty voice spoke, one that sounded familiar despite the lack of pounding music nearby. “Hello.”
“Hi, Kirell? This is Natalia. Um. Natalia Kristoff?”
There was nothing but silence.
“From Para. The bar. We spoke last night. You gave me your card?”
Falling silent, she waited, not wanting to make more of a fool of herself than she already had. Of course, he knew who it was.
“I remember,” Kirell responded at last, speaking through a low chuckle.
She waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t. “Um. I’d like to talk some more.”
“I’ll pick you up for dinner.”
Natalia had been about to suggest getting together for lunch, but that was off the table.
“Okay.”
“Be ready for seven-thirty. Wear something formal.”
“Okay.” What else was she to say?
He got the address from her and then promptly hung up.
Staring dumbly at the phone for a few moments before setting it down, she looked over at Loren.
“I think I have a date.”
“A date.” Loren’s jaw moved a few times before sound resumed coming out. “You have a date? With an Ursa?’
“His name is Kirell,” she said dryly.
“Right, whatever. What makes you think it’s a date?”
She had thought Loren could hear, but maybe not. “He said he’s going to pick me up for dinner. That I should dress formal.”
“Holy shit!” Loren bounced up and down on the couch. “I think you have a date.”
“This is ridiculous, you know that, right? I don’t even know this guy.”
Loren rolled her eyes and fell back into the pillows on her couch. “Don’t be so overdramatic. How do you think people get to know one another? Dates! This is the perfect excuse to learn more about him. It’s in public.” She tilted her head, looking over at her from the side. “Right?”
“I guess?” she said with a shrug. “He didn’t really say, but I’d assume there’d be no need to dress formal if we were going to his house.”
“You don’t know these families. It’s entirely possible they’re having a ball at their place.”
“A ball?” Natalia felt her stomach twist itself into knots. “Do you really think he meant that formal? I thought just like, a fancy restaurant or something.”
“You’re probably right.” Loren seemed crestfallen over that fact. “I was just daydreaming for you.”
“No shit,” Natalia said.
“Fuck you.”
“I don’t want to make Jeremy jealous,” Natalia added.
They both broke down into laughter.
“You are going to go through with it, right? You aren’t going to bail?”
Natalia rubbed her face. “I think so. But Lore, what am I going to wear?”
9
He pulled up to the tiny house at precisely 7:28.
Of course, all houses are tiny compared to the one you grew up in, he thought.
Kirell was one of the few members of his House that had actually been born in the manor and lived there his entire life. Due to the global scale of the Houses’ operations, many of the members often spent only a few years there, except for the Title Holders, though many of them travelled regularly.
Putting the car in park, he pulled the handle and slowly exited the exotic, admiring the smooth, swooping curves of its build. He’d contemplated not bringing it and taking something a little less…flashy, but his excitement at the prospect of talking to Natalia some more could only be paired properly with the roar the car made as it accelerated.
Her phone call hadn’t surprised him. What had come out of left field was the rush of adrenaline he’d received when she said she wanted to see him again. He had been totally unprepared for that outcome, and even now was wondering if this was a mistake. The whole point was to find someone he wasn’t tied to, that would be of no danger to him. A simple catch and release, so to speak. It just so happened that he was giving Natalia something in return.
That made it easier, truthfully. She needed something from him and wouldn’t be doing it strictly for money. If he needed to, he could manipulate her much more easily given that leverage, though he hoped not to have to do that. He walked up to the house and rapped his fingers on the door promptly, as his watch ticked over to seven-thirty.
Looking at himself in the stained glass that mirrored back his reflection, he adjusted the black tie, ensuring it was properly tight. Then, he shrugged his shoulders slightly, ensuring the suit fell properly. It would, of course, being that it was hand-made for his frame by an expensive tailor out of Italy.
He just wanted to ensure he looked extra sharp for Natalia.
Stop fussing. It doesn’t become you.
He could hear his mother’s voice speaking to him now, while he waited for the door to open. His mother would tell him that he looked smart, having gone with a classic black suit look. The only concession he’d given was that the shirt wasn’t pure white, but a light shade of graphite-gray, just enough to contrast without looking out of place.
Hopefully, Natalia would appreciate the effort. Despite the temporary nature of their arrangement, he wanted it to be enjoyable for both of them; it would be easier to portray their connection that way.
The door yanked open to reveal a young blonde. Definitely not Natalia. She leaned against the open door, giving him a calm once-over. Kirell could immediately tell the woman was trying to fake being disinterested. Her body language gave it away. The fingers gripping too tight on the door, the stiffness to the lean of her body that indicated it was a forced casualness… Then there were the eyes. It was almost impossible to miss the alertness in the way she surveyed him with a protectiveness that did her credit.
“You’re Natalia’s friend from the bar,” he said, placing his memory of the woman.
“How did you know that? Your back was turned to me the entire time.”
Kirell smiled. “Is Natalia here?”
“Maybe. She—”
“I’m right here,” Natalia said, coming around the corner, adjusting the deep purple shawl she had wrapped around her bared shoulders.
It was Kirell’s turn to give his best poker face, though he was positive he did a better job than the blonde. It was hard, however, given the way Natalia looked. The bared, soft skin of her shoulders gave way to a floor-length black dress with twin slits across the hips. It hugged her form tightly, revealing the gentle curve of her waist before falling loosely to the floor in a dazzling display of shiny sparkles that reflected the light in waves as she walked.
“Is this appropriate?’ she asked, stopping and turning from side to side. “I wasn’t sure just how formal to get.” Her eyes roamed over his outfit. “Though it looks like I chose well.”
Recovering his composure, Kirell nodded. “Yes, that is quite acceptable.” It was important that he maintained his cool. Getting too deeply invested in the way the slits of her dress seemed to point directly between her legs was not the way to start the evening.
There was no guarantee that she was going to sleep with him either. He’d told her that was optional and at her discretion, and he’d meant it.
But that didn’t stop his mind from wandering. He might have iron control over his external visage, able to stay cool and cold on demand, but inside was another story entirely. Kirell tended to run hot, relying on an ice-like filter to tamp down his emotions before they were shown to the outside world. It rarely failed him, and now was no exception.
“If you’re ready?” he asked as she slipped into a pair of stiletto heels, holding out her arm to her friend for support while she did them up with the other.
“I am. Though I do need to ask where we’re going.” She stood up, flicking her eyes over her shoulder to her friend. “My keeper insists.”
“He’s handsome, but still a stranger. I want details.” The blonde crossed her arms.
“Your friend is a good friend,” he said. “We have a reservation at LeBlanc at seven forty-five,” he informed the pair.
“That’s ten minutes from now,” Natalia said, straightening in surprise. “We’ll never make it.”
Kirell winked. “Oh yes, we will. If you please?” He gestured down the walkway to the driveway, stepping aside to reveal how they were going to get there in time. At the same time, he lifted an arm to offer it to Natalia.
To his absolute surprise, she squealed in excitement and practically leapt past him.
“Is that a Bugatti Chiron?”
“Well I guess you didn’t just dress to impress, now did you?” the blonde muttered from behind him.
Kirell shot her a grin that he hoped would reassure her. “It’s fun.”
“I’m sure it is.” She sounded jealous. Good.
Good? Why the hell do you care if Natalia’s friend is jealous or not? Get a grip on yourself, Kirell; the clock is ticking. You have forty-eight hours, no, forty-six hours to pull this all together. Focus on the mission at hand.
“I don’t recognize this color scheme,” Natalia said, walking down the side of the hypercar, fingers stretched out to mirror the lines, though she wasn’t actually touching it.
“You know the different color schemes?” he asked, stunned. He’d thought recognizing the car to be a fluke, perhaps, but this? This was something else.