Dark Chase (The Gunrunner Series)

by Miranda Kavi

  Her memories of her fun times in college stacked on top of her new memories with Dmitri made her love St. Petersburg even more.

  He said they’d have to leave soon, but for now, they were carefree lovers in a beautiful city.

  She finished her crepe and sipped her coffee. The barista had made a heart shape with the foam, and it held as she sipped it. How appropriate.

  “I want to know everything,” Dmitri said.

  “Like what?” she said.

  He put his coffee cup down. “I want to know what happened to you when I left you there, weak and injured.” His face was dark, his throat hoarse.

  She sighed. “You mean when I made the biggest mistake of my life?”

  He pushed his cup and saucer away. “I should have come back,” he whispered. “You had been through so much.”

  She put her cup down too, reaching for him across the table. “You couldn’t. It was what it was. I made the wrong choice, but we fixed it. I made a damn mess doing so, but we are together.” She pinned her eyes to him. “Please forgive me.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Tell me what happened to you.”

  She took a deep breath. “The paramedics got me. I went to the hospital. I had some damage to my liver and intestines and was bleeding internally.”

  His stroked her thumb with his. “Was…was your life ever in danger?”

  She looked down. “I don’t think so. My blood pressure dropped, but they were able to give me a transfusion and the surgery stopped the bleeding. I woke up six hours later in terrible pain. It took me a few days to remember.” She blew out a puff of air. “I still don’t remember everything.”

  “Did you love me then?” he asked.

  She squeezed his hand. “I did.”

  He scooted his chair close to hers so they were leg to leg. He put his arm around her. She folded into him, into the safety that only he could give her.

  “I thought of taking you even when you said no. I thought of picking you up and getting you to a doctor, then sneaking you out of the country. I wanted to take you, even if you did not want me,” he whispered. “I tell you now because I want you to know how I think. It is not always right.” He pushed her hair back. “I do not know how to love, Sophia. You will have to help me learn.”

  She pushed into him, shocked as she absorbed his words. That was probably the most she’d ever heard him speak about his feelings. She needed to take care of him, make him feel safe to share his innermost thoughts with her.

  She pulled back and kissed him. “We will learn together. We will love our own way.”

  “Sophia,” he murmured. “Lyubov moya. Only you.”

  “Dmitri,” she said. He kissed her again, slipping his tongue in her mouth. The passion unfolded between them.

  “I need you,” he said. “Now.”

  He pulled her from her chair, hooked his hand firmly around her waist, and led her to the back of the restaurant. There was a small, worn, black door against the back wall. They stumbled through it, barely paying attention to their surroundings. Whether it was a broom closet, restroom or something else, Dmitri was taking her. Now.

  It was a narrow, stone alley, giving only a few feet to the next windowless brick building. An empty dumpster partially blocked the view from the pedestrian sidewalk. Anyone who stopped to take a second look would see them.

  He pushed her against the stone wall, kissing her, possessing her. Saying with kisses and caresses what he had a hard time putting into words.

  She kissed him back, tore her fingers through his hair, felt his hardness through his clothes. He was so virile, so tall. Powerful.

  DMITRI

  Sophia moaned against him. Her body responded to his, which made him harder. They were in a public alley, partially hidden from view.

  But he didn’t care. He needed to be inside her now.

  He was desperate for her. He wanted to tell her so many things. So many emotions of love, lust and admiration, but he didn’t have the words.

  How the days without her had been the darkest in his life. How he thought of sneaking back into the United States. How he was willing to give up his life for hers. How he would leave the business for her.

  All for her.

  “Please,” she whispered. “Make love to me.”

  He ran his hands down her soft curves, aching to see them, to taste them. But he couldn’t because of the location. He’d have to make do.

  He yanked her pretty red dress up. She’d worn it for him, he knew. It clung to her chest and waist. She’d sashayed around in it all day, parading that beautiful shape in front of him.

  All he’d thought about all day was what was underneath.

  He pushed her underwear aside. God, she was wet for him. Ready for him.

  She worked his button and zipper, lowering his pants. He shuddered as her fingers ran down his shaft.

  She guided him to her and he pushed inside.

  She was tight and warm around him. She gasped as he filled her up, stretching her to her limits.

  She dug her fingers into his back, and he moved against her.

  She bucked against him, increasing the friction and pressure. He kissed her, enjoying her tightness around him, her scent on his clothes, the low moans in her throat as he plunged into her.

  She gasped and pulled back. He stroked the side of her face, watching her crystal blue eyes widen, then the look of complete and total bliss crossed her face as she clenched around him.

  He waited until she was done and panting, then let go with one final pump.

  He was pulled under, like a giant wave crashing over his head. Not just the physical sensations of the release, but the emotional tidal wave that came with their intimacy. No woman could do this to him. No one but Sophia.

  He leaned against her, resting his head on her shoulder. They did not speak. They did not need to. He knew she was feeling what he was feeling.

  The world came back to him, slowly. The cool wind in the alley, the graying sky above them, the faint sounds of foot and street traffic.

  Then his phone rang, loud. It made both of them startle and jump apart. He snapped it up. “What?”

  “Brother. We have trouble,” Gram’s voice came over the line, firm and smooth.

  “Yes?” Dmitri said. He yanked up his pants and tried to zip them with one hand. Sophia pushed herself against the brick wall and smoothed out the skirt of her dress.

  “I found a group of your men. They were meeting on one of your properties. They had diverted a shipment to themselves. It went missing, and we tracked it to them.”

  “What?” Dmitri said. “My shipment?”

  “Yes,” Gram said. “They were arming themselves.”

  Dmitri growled. Sophia’s eyes widened. He forced a smile at her and waved. She crossed her arms over her chest, not convinced. He turned away from her, pressing his phone to his ear.

  “For what? What is the purpose?”

  “To fight you. To take over. They had plans to knock out your key contacts and then go after you. And her.”

  Dmitri’s pulse pounded in his ears. His rage built up, but he contained it. Sophia was near, and she didn’t need to see it.

  Motherfuckers. He paid them so fucking well. Was precise in his dealings so it was near impossible for them to get arrested or caught. His men were rarely arrested, and when they were, nothing stuck. Because of him.

  “How do you know?” Dmitri growled.

  Gram paused, probably trying to sort out the best way to phrase things. They were always careful what they said over phone lines. Even burner phones and secure lines. “I got them to talk, brother. I am very convincing.”

  Torture, Dmitri thought. Fine.

  “Your instructions, sir?”

  “Make an example out of them.” He clicked off the phone and tossed it into the dumpster.

  Loyalty was hard to find these days. Money was the biggest motivator, but not even that could satisfy some of these bastards.

  Dmitri
would make some bold moves. He was not sure what the Tariq asshole could do, but he would try to do something. And fail.

  Hitoshi would be pissed once he heard Naomi was fucking Gram. He wouldn’t move against Dmitri, but there would be hell to pay.

  And the boldness of his own men, in his own syndicate, diverting his fucking stuff right in front of his face. They were foolish thinking they wouldn’t be caught. They were ridiculously bold to think they could kill him and his woman.

  That almost pushed the rage out.

  And when it came out, there would be death.

  He’d been so lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed Sophia. She’d approached him carefully from the side. She slid her hand into his.

  “I take it everything is not okay?” she said in her lovely voice.

  She brought him back to the present. Reality shifted, and his business faded. He had her. All he needed was her.

  “Business. It will be fine.” He squeezed her hand.

  “So you say. But the look on your face tells me a different story.” She reached around and grabbed his other hand. “Can I help you?”

  “You already do.” He kissed her swollen, soft lips.

  “Is it me? Have I caused this?”

  He shook his head back and forth. “No.”

  She bit her lower lip, and he wanted to take the stress away.

  “Do not worry. I will take care of you,” he whispered.

  “And I you. If you let me.”

  He felt it again. The softness. The heat. How badly he wanted her. The things she made him feel.

  Fuck, he loved her. How she always knew what to say. What to do. How good it felt that she gave herself to him in every way.

  He ran his thumb down the soft skin of her face, looking into the deep ocean of her eyes. He struggled for the right words, but they would not come.

  He’d have to show her. Truly show her the level of his love and commitment to her.

  And he knew how.

  He tugged on her hand, leading her out of the dark alley and back into the light.

  ***

  He’d left Sophia with Tatiana, the two of them cackling over martinis in her cramped apartment. He was pleased she had a friend she could keep. She missed Andrea, sometimes muttering her name in her sleep.

  Tatiana was messed up enough not to cause Dmitri any trouble. He’d had her background checked. She might actually be useful someday.

  She was the daughter of a wealthy, well-connected family that she had little contact with. Her boyfriend was a low-level player in the local mob scene. He owned several nightclubs that turned a blind eye to criminal activities but was not involved in the kind of thing that would get him killed. Smart.

  He’d not made any unusual movements, was smart enough not to fuck with Dmitri, and connected enough to protect himself and Tatiana for running with dangerous company. Tatiana annoyed the shit out of him, but she was loyal to Sophia, and Dmitri valued loyalty.

  His driver dropped him off in front of the old, small, featureless building he was looking for. He strode in.

  “Mr. Davydov!” A thin, tall man unfolded himself from the bar stool behind the counter.

  “Mark,” Dmitri said.

  They quickly shook hands.

  Mark reseated himself on the stool, placing his hands on his thighs. He was nervous, judging by the increase in respiratory rate, the subtle flaring of his nostrils, and the way he was tapping his fingers against his leg. “I am glad to see you, though I was not expecting you. Everything is okay, sir?”

  Dmitri recognized the edge to his voice. The man was afraid of him. Many men were afraid of him.

  “Yes,” Dmitri said. He gestured at the red-velvet lined display case in front of him. “I am merely here as a customer.”

  “Oh!” Mark said. He jumped to his feet. He was too nervous to hide his surprise. He dealt in the dark world too, perhaps even darker than Dmitri’s: diamonds. They’d crossed paths a few times before, as people that move items across a black market have a tendency to do. He had access to the best gems and jewels in the world. He also made beautiful jewelry that graced the hands of royalty and high society worldwide. “What are you looking for?”

  “A ring,” Dmitri said. He started scanning the rings on display in front of them.

  “For yourself?” Mark asked.

  “For my woman.”

  Mark smiled. He folded his arms behind him a formal stance. “The ring, sir?”

  “The ring,” Dmitri said.

  Mark pulled keys out of his pocket. “You have come to the right place.” He unlocked a cabinet and then began plucking sparkling rings out of the display case. After he laid out a black velvet mat, he placed the rings down gently as if they were fragile little eggs.

  “I have every cut of diamond you can imagine.” He picked up a giant, sparkler. “Classic round diamonds are very popular, or”—he picked up a massive rectangular shaped stone on a delicate, intricate band draped in diamonds—“emerald cut is very beautiful. Very classy for any woman.”

  Dmitri picked up the rings. The diamonds were beautiful and prismatic in the carefully placed floodlights, but they were too common. They were not up to his standards for Sophia.

  Sophia was too special for such a ring.

  “I want something special. I want you to make me something.”

  “Of course you do. These are not for your woman.” Mark swept the rings off the counter with dramatic flourish, leaving the velvet mat out. “Custom made for you, sir.”

  “Very special,” Dmitri said.

  Mark tilted his head back, seemingly lost in thought. His eyes snapped forward. “I have something that might interest you. Excuse me.”

  Mark pushed open a dark curtain behind him and then disappeared into the back. Dmitri leaned against the counter impatiently, hearing the faint sounds of metal clicking as Mark searched his safes.

  He emerged with a little black pouch. He untied the top and flipped it open. On the smooth black velvet lay a pear shaped, brilliant red stone. “Ruby. Naturally inclusion free, which is almost impossible to find in a ruby. Four carats. No treatments of any kind. Very rare,” Mark said.

  Dmitri picked up the deep red stone. “She will love this.”

  “I can put it in any setting you want.” Mark tapped his chin. “Such a deep red is very unique. Perhaps black gold? With black diamonds? Lots of detail?” He was excited now, in his element. He pulled out a sketchpad and drew a mock-up.

  He handed it to Dmitri. He eyed the Edwardian style intricate sketch that Mark had produced so quickly. He was certainly skilled at his craft. “This is excellent. I need it immediately.”

  “Oh, sir. I have to custom create the mold and cast it. That will take some time.”

  “How long?” Dmitri said.

  “At least a week.”

  Dmitri sighed. “I do not have a week. If you close your shop and work on this and nothing else, how long?”

  Mark swallowed. “Three days, but my business—”

  “You will be more than compensated for the loss. Somebody will be by to pick it up in three days.”

  Dmitri left with his hands in his pockets and a faint smile on his face.

  Chapter 15

  SOPHIA

  Sophia lounged in Dmitri’s arms as he relaxed into sleep. His eyelids fluttered and his jaw slackened as he slipped under. His face relaxed completely, giving him an innocent, smooth look. It gave Sophia a glance of what he must have looked like when he was younger.

  He was vulnerable and sweet, if only for a minute.

  She closed her eyes, ready to float away on her afternoon nap.

  Loud pounding on the door brought her back from the edge of sleep. Dmitri’s current burner phone sprang to life.

  She felt the bed dip, and by the time she turned to look, he had his gun drawn, facing the door. He motioned for her to get behind him. She did, her heart thrumming.

  “Dmitri,” Gram shouted through the door.


  Dmitri remained quiet; he stalked to the door and looked through the peephole. He flung the door open, and Gram strode in. Sophia barely had time to grab the sheet and pull it up over her nude body.

  “Trouble,” Gram said.

  “What?” Dmitri asked in Russian.

  “Strange movement on the street and in the hotel. Coordinated. Over twenty people.”

  Dmitri’s nostrils flared as he took in the information.

  “An attempt on us,” he muttered. He turned to Sophia. “We must go.”

  “What is happening?”

  Gram averted his eyes, giving her a chance to grab her top and pants off the floor. She pulled them on.

  “No time for questions,” Dmitri answered. He pulled on his pants and shirt. “We must go.”

  “What?” She reached for her shoes.

  “No time,” he said again.

  He pulled her out of the room, both were barefooted. No underwear. No luggage. No purse.

  He cleared the corner and then led them down the long hallway. Naomi was waiting, her eyes wide.

  “Here,” Dmitri said.

  He paused in front of a room. Gram pulled out a key and opened the door. They all ushered into the empty room.

  “What are we doing?”

  Dmitri said nothing, just led her to the window. He popped it open and motioned for her to look. There, snaking all five floors to the ground was a fire ladder.

  “No stairs? Elevators?” she said.

  Gun shots rang out in the hallway. She gasped as they came closer.

  He nimbly climbed down the rungs of the ladder, followed by Sophia. The metal was cool and dug into her hands. She heard the grunts of Gram right above her. She tried her best to keep up with Dmitri and not slow down Gram and Naomi. Being barefooted helped her keep her grip and find her way down.

  She made the final leap to the ground, Dmitri helping her down with his strong arms on her waist. They darted around the outer block of the hotel, past lines of cars parallel parked on the crowded street. People stared at them as they sprinted through the streets partially dressed and shoeless.

  He took a sudden cut through the middle of the block, down where another long line of cars were parked. Gram popped into the driver’s seat of a small black car, Naomi sliding in next to him. Dmitri pulled Sophia into the backseat.