Pregnant By Her Older Billionaire 3: A BWWM Older Man Younger Woman Romance (Matthew and Cara)
Page 16
“Oh please. There are people with higher IQ’s out there. You cannot tell me that 160 is the highest,” Malia said rolling her eyes.
“Well, that guy Walter O’Brien claims to have an IQ of 197,” Francois said and Malia snapped her fingers.
“See? There are brighter people out there than I am.”
“Well, the problem with Mr. O’Brien’s story is that there is no proof of the whole thing,” he said.
“He scored a 197 on an IQ test and no one thought to frame that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “My test was scanned and sent out to almost every member of my family. I didn’t think it was that big a deal. Probably why I don’t own a copy of my own IQ test.” She shook her head.
“Maybe you should consider it,” he pointed out and she shrugged.
“Yeah, maybe I should.”
She reached for another cupcake and bit through the rich frosting to the strawberry underneath.
“Those few weeks I will be away, I think this is what I will miss the most,” she said in a dreamy voice. “The perfection of your cupcakes.”
“And here I thought it was my awesome company,” Francois said, pretending to be hurt.
She smiled.
“Yeah. That too.”
*****
By the time Malia walked into her office, it was a little after eleven. After so many years, she was still surprised how she and Francois could have so much to talk about even after seeing each other almost on a daily basis. She had just sat down when her assistant knocked briefly on her door before walking in.
“Tau, what’s going on?” she asked without looking up. She was furiously typing on her computer trying as best as she could to recover the last two hours she had spent with Francois at her apartment.
“There is a man here to see you,” Tau said.
“I thought my schedule was cleared for the day,” she said as she looked up.
“It was…it is. Except for that conference call with Omar Hassan later.”
“So, tell him that he has to reschedule.” She looked at the paperwork on her desk and shook her head. “I don’t think I can afford to take any walk ins today.”
“But he is a little persistent…” Tau started and Malia shrugged.
“Fine. Then tell him I can see him tomorrow. But I really have to go through all these reports before I talk to Omar and…” Malia started before Tau shook his head.
“The thing is, he insisted that you will want to see him.”
Malia raised an eyebrow.
“He insisted that I want to see him?” she asked and Tau nodded. “Does this man have a name?” she asked after a long silence.
“Mark Zimmerman,” Tau said and Malia felt like her blood had gone cold. Suddenly, she had no feeling in her fingers or her toes. All she could think of were the words Tau had just mentioned. She had never heard anything so exciting yet so frustrating and frightening at the same time. “Miss Jones? Did you hear me?” Tau asked and Malia nodded reluctantly.
“Yeah,” she said with an exhausted sigh. “Send him in.”
Tau seemed a little unsure. For the first time in a long time, he actually questioned his boss’ word.
“Are you sure?” he asked and she shook her head.
“Honestly, no. But send him in anyway.” She leaned back in her chair. “He and I have unfinished business. Business that can only be handled face to face.”
Tau nodded.
“Of course Miss Jones,” he said before he walked out.
Malia took a series of long deep breaths as she waited to see Mark walking through the doorway. She had dreamed of this moment for the last fifteen months but now that the moment had materialized, she was not sure she could handle it. She seemed to be waiting forever before Mark finally walked into her office. He was carrying a single white gardenia. It was nice and large and it looked fresh, almost like it had just been picked.
“Hey,” he said and she opened her mouth to answer but she couldn’t quite get any words out. “You seem to look better every single time I see you.”
“I wish I could say the same,” was what she wanted to say but all she managed to do was shrug.
“Come on in,” she said instead, gesturing at the chair in front of her desk. “Make yourself comfortable.”
“Thanks. I got this for you,” Mark said as he handed her the flower. “I remember how much you like fresh gardenias.”
“Thanks but how did you even get it? It is not a very popular flower, at least not on this side of town,” she said and he smiled showing off his perfectly veneered teeth.
“Well, what can I say? I have my ways.”
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before she looked up at him again.
“Thanks,” she said, forcing a smile.
“I am sorry to just pop up like this but I really needed to talk.”
She gently placed the flower on the desk and sighed.
“So, were you in the neighborhood or something?” she asked, her obviously angry but controlled tone taking over. “Because I have been trying to reach you forever.”
He nodded.
“I know and I am sorry.”
She forced a smile and then a laugh.
“I don’t know why you think a simple sorry can cut it, Mark.”
“I don’t think it can…that is not what I meant at all.”
She leaned forward and looked into his eyes.
“Really?” she asked. “Then why are you here? After so many goddamn months without so much as a text?”
“Malia, I know I messed up but I was really hoping that we could work everything out and…” She never let him finish what he was saying mostly because she could almost read his mind.
“…and what, Mark? Get back together? Because that is not going to happen.”
“Come on, Malia. We hit a bump…a long bump and …”
She slammed her hand on the desk and shook her head.
“Hit a bump?” she asked, annoyed. “I would have been so much better knowing that you left me for someone else or that you were leading a double life and that you had a family somewhere that kept you tied down…either way, I would have had some closure. But when I travel twelve hours to come see you and your damn secretary tells me that I have to make an appointment to see my boyfriend…” her words trailed off. She did not know why she was even doing this. It was obvious that he wanted to be back in her life but she had already given up on whatever it was that they had.
“Were you in an accident? A coma maybe?’ she asked. “Amnesia?”
He shook his head.
“So there is no logical reason why I have not heard from you in over a year?” she asked and he sighed loudly before he stood up.
“Malia, please…we can’t do this here.” He walked over to where she was and sunk to his knee. “Just…give me a chance. Have dinner with me or something. Let me make it up to you.”
“You have nothing to make up for Mark. Absolutely nothing,” she said in a low voice. “So, please, get out of my office.”
“Malia…please,” Mark pleaded as he looked into her eyes. “Just listen to me. That’s all I ask.”
She pushed her chair back and stood up.
“Listen…I am going to get out of this office and walk out. And when I get back, you better be gone, otherwise I will let security escort you out,” she said before she started for the door.
“Malia,” Mark called out but she never looked back. “Malia!”
Chapter 3
Vasili looked outside his window as he sipped on his cognac. Until recently, all he had been thinking about was getting resettled back home in Moscow. Or maybe Hungary…or Romania. But he couldn’t quite make up his mind. It was like there was no way of knowing he would ever be safe in any European country. He couldn’t even take his chances in the UK. Not that he had not tried. He had and everything had literally gone to the dogs.
Africa had been a far cry from what he was used to. It was hot and it was so far…
and the last place the mafia would ever think of looking for him. He was constantly living under the fear of being found out. The constant fear of his true self being discovered. It was the only way he could be assured of his cover staying intact and also keeping an eye on his charge, the main reason for him making the move to South Africa in the first place…
Five years earlier…
Back in Moscow, Vasili Zakharov was actually Kostya Utkin. And even though he had this clean shaven, clean cut look on the outside, he was actually one of the leading enforcers in his ‘brotherhood’. He was well known for getting the job done without getting his hands dirty. That was how he liked handling everything. He only ever got involved if there was no other way out because he was basically the guy under the big boss.
It was on Christmas morning when he woke up to a call from his boss. He wanted a rival boss taken out and at the moment, he didn’t mind doing it. The man he was supposed to take out, Mikhail Volkov, had been the cause of many sleepless nights and he loved playing dirty. He did not mind wiping the floor with innocent blood if it meant he was going to get ahead. That was just the kind of man he was. And Kostya hated having to deal with his mess time and again. He was kind of the modern Pablo Escobar. If a thousand people died in his operation, all he did was laugh it off and term it ‘the cost of doing business’. To him, there was nothing, absolutely nothing that could ever come between him and a good deal. All that mattered was that he got his money.
Plus, for him, this job was personal. Mikhail had massacred his village and tortured the only family he had ever cared for: his cousin and her daughter. They had been unlucky enough to be visiting the same village Mikhail had his eyes set on. He had been looking to have the land vacated so that he could develop it because real estate moguls termed the land a modern goldmine.
The Volkov Goons as the villagers liked to call them had been going around the village spreading leaflets that warned them that they only had a month to vacate the premises ‘or else’. No one really knew what the ‘or else’ was and they didn’t want to speculate. Not that they had anywhere to go anyway. They were farmers. They lived off the land. So there was no way they could just up and leave. That was the only life they had ever known. If they left, there would be no hope for them.
Now that Kostya had the chance to take care of business, he was not planning on looking back. After all, Mikhail hadn’t. Not even when he massacred twenty one innocent children. He didn’t even lose any sleep over that. All he knew was that those kids had been collateral damage.
Ever since that time, Kostya had been waiting for the day he could wipe Mikhail off the face of the earth. So when he got the call to handle him, he was only too happy to do it himself. He didn’t even consider passing the job over to someone else. All he could think of doing was just looking him in the eye as he pulled the trigger. He did not even consider a sniper rifle. Not for this particular one. And he had the perfect plan for this job. He was going to go in the wee hours of the morning after the much publicized party Mikhail was supposed to have at his ranch.
According to the press, the party was going to be the event of the year. He was expected to host government officials and even foreign dignitaries which was odd since the entire country knew that Mikhail Volkov was Russia’s biggest criminal. It was a well-known fact that he was a big player in the black market. He was the kind of man you went to if you needed anything. Absolutely anything.
Drugs.
Guns.
Body organs.
There was absolutely nothing he couldn't get. But how he was able to still be good with the authorities and even sometimes get diplomatic immunity when he traveled was something that Kostya could never understand.
By the time he got to Mikhail’s ranch, it was three in the morning and the party was still very much alive.
“He is definitely an asshole but he does know how to party,” he thought as he disabled the perimeter security. He could feel the adrenaline shooting through his veins as he made his way through the gates taking out the two security men stationed there. Even though he had used a silencer, he still expected someone else to be around.
“For someone so high profile, he sure is relaxed about his security,” Kostya thought as he looked around the environment. He had taken thermal imaging of the ranch before he went in but he had just seen the two guards at the gate. Getting into the Volkov mansion was easy. A little too easy for comfort.
He was about to walk into the open lawn when he saw two more armed men walking out of the mansion and he quickly took them out before he went ahead to get out of the black ninja wear he had on leaving him in the waiter’s apparel he had worn underneath. He quickly made his way around the mansion to the back entrance and waited a few minutes before someone opened the door: one of the kitchen staff going out for a smoke. Getting in was easy. Getting out was going to be the difficult part. Especially now that the entire place was literally packed to capacity. But he had a plan.
He would make his way up to the second floor and make his way to the left wing of the mansion. He would then go into the first room on his right, a guest room and use the room’s balcony to gain access to the office balcony. He would then use a glass cutter to gain access and hide in there until Mikhail showed up. And when he did, all Kostya had to do was shoot him in between the eyes.
When Kostya finally made it to Mikhail’s office, the party was almost over. After waiting for twenty minutes, he was beginning to get concerned. He had to finish the job before the guests left which was going to be at any time now. He was about to bail when he suddenly heard a commotion outside the door before it finally opened. He had a perfect hiding place thanks to the larger than life book shelf he had in his office.
He checked his ammunition and was about to aim his gun when he noticed that Mikhail was not alone. He had one of the men in his inner circle with him. And it was not just the goon Kostya was worried about. The two had a girl with them. She was bound and gagged and by the looks of it, she couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen years old. And what they were talking about was horrifying. As it turned out, Mikhail was not just involved in weapons and drugs. He was also up to his neck in human trafficking. Heck, from what Kostya could hear, Mikhail was responsible for most of the European female missing persons under the age of sixteen.
“I know the people showing up for the auction tomorrow only expect the fourteen girls but this one might as well be the cherry on top,” Mikhail was saying. “Young, fresh and definitely teachable. Something our buyers on the higher end would like.”
The goon looked at the girl. The lust in his eyes was so obvious.
“Are you sure she wouldn’t serve us better in the brothels?” he asked and Mikhail shook his head.
“She would be in high demand for the first few months but she would soon lose value and be like any other whore in there.” Mikhail walked over to his bar and poured himself a drink. “The only way this works out is if she is part of the merchandise auctioned off tomorrow. Plus, the fact that she is English will be even better.”
“Yeah, maybe we can get some of the sick Middle Eastern royal families to actually pay a handsome price for her,” the goon said. And that was it. Kostya could not bear to hear anymore. He suddenly came out of his hiding place and with military precision, shot the goon in the head before pointing the gun at Mikhail who seemed unfazed.
“What is this?” he asked as he looked at Kostya. “Who sent you?”
“You already know,” he said in a soft voice. “After all, you have been stepping on a lot of toes lately. So you should know by now that something like this would definitely be inevitable.”
He looked at the seemingly unconscious girl and shook his head.
“You know, Volkov, just when I thought I couldn’t lose any more respect for you, you go ahead and top the list.”
Mikhail took a long sip of his drink.
“Who sent you here? Vladislav? Bukhalo? Stalin?” He shrugged. “Whoever you
are boy, you have to understand that what we do is always for the good of the Bratva.”
Kostya shook his head.
“The brotherhood is embarrassed to be associated with you especially now that their children seem to be disappearing every single day.” He began to slowly walk towards him. “Three weeks ago, you released a chemical weapon into the drinking water of villagers in the south and you killed innocent farmers…women and children.”
Mikhail shrugged and took another sip.
“Like I said, cost of doing business,” he said.
Kostya felt his rage suddenly take over and he aimed his gun at his leg before he pulled the trigger.
“Sukin syn,” Mikhail muttered as he descended on his one good knee making the glass fall on the carpeted floor. “YA sdelayu vas platit'…I swear it! Everyone you care about. Your mother, your father…and if you have children, I will find them and make sure they know their father is the reason they are in so much pain!” He was breathing hard and heavy as blood gushed out of the wound in his leg.
“You already took the only family I cared about when you made three hundred innocent people drink poisoned water.” Kostya cocked his gun. “And unlike you, the rest of the brotherhood actually cares about the cost of doing business. And innocent civilians are definitely not the way. And by the way, neither are young underage girls,” he added in a soft voice before he pulled the trigger ending the terrible reign that was the Volkov era.
He took a long deep breath as he looked at the girl. His exit strategy was only favorable if he left without the girl but he just couldn’t bring himself to doing it. After all, she was just a child. She could not have been older than his niece when she died. He undid her binds but left her gag on just in case she woke up before he made it a safe distance from the Volkov estate. He looked into her eyes and sighed. He could recognize that familiar look in her eyes anywhere. She had been drugged, heavily.
“You probably wouldn’t say anything even if you wanted to,” he thought as he gently put her on the ground so that he could take the gag out. He had initially planned on making his exit the same he way he came in but with the girl, he had to have a Plan B. He opened the door and looked right and left. There was a security man stationed at the far right corner but that was it. And that was his only way out…a laundry chute a few meters from where he was standing. He aimed his gun as he began to quickly walk towards the guard, struggling to balance the girl in one arm before he pulled the trigger.