The Devil's Beauty (Crime Lord Interconnected Standalone Book 2)

by Airicka Phoenix

  Erik grinned, accepting the hand Marcus extended. “Been keeping busy?”

  “Always.” Marcus chuckled.

  The two shook once and then both turned to Dimitri.

  “So, uh…” Marcus rubbed his hands together. “You said it was urgent?”

  Dimitri rehashed his idea to the man. Erik said nothing, but Dimitri could sense his growing unease the longer they stood in that lobby.

  “Yeah,” Marcus said when Dimitri finished. “You have my support.”

  Dimitri patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “Let’s do it quickly though, eh?” Marcus grinned. “I have a date tonight.”

  No one could argue that. They made their way to the elevator and rode it all the way to the top floor. It opened directly into the meeting room with its single, round table and marble walls. Theresa was already there, standing by the window in a form fitting dress in deep plum. Her pale hair gleamed in the light, a silvery sheet down her back. She turned when they arrived, one hand raised to her ear.

  “Yes, I want all required documents to me in an hour,” she said, gaze moving swiftly from Dimitri, to Marcus, and settling on Erik. “Don’t fuck with me, Penny. I don’t sharpen my nails just to make them look pretty.” She hung up and fixed her full focus on the trio exiting the lift. “Gentlemen, how incredible presumptuous of you to think a lady can be summoned on a whim. This had better be important.” She stalked to the table and tossed her phone into her clutch. “Why are you present at a chair meeting, Erik?”

  “We will discuss that once John Paul arrives,” Dimitri stated evenly, motioning Erik to Elena’s chair.

  Theresa didn’t miss the gesture. “Will Elena not be joining us?”

  Dimitri was saved from having to answer when the elevator doors rolled open and John Paul stormed out with a head full of boiling fury.

  “What is this meaning of this?” he snarled, eyes borrowing into Dimitri. “How dare you summon a chair meeting today of all days.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Theresa drawled, lowering herself into her chair.

  “You will want to hear this.” Dimitri told them both. He waited until everyone had claimed their seats and he had the full focus of the room. “I’m electing Erik into the western seat.”

  Theresa chuckled. “What? You have zero power here. You’re not even officially elected yourself.”

  “You’re wrong.” Dimitri cut her with a single glance. “This is my chair. I am the leader of the north and main head of this committee.”

  “Excuse—”

  “Shut up.” He didn’t raise his voice but the words snapped through the room. “Your little power trip is over. I won. Majority rules. You were outnumbered and out voted. You and your father no longer have any power here. Now, shut your mouth.”

  Theresa blinked, startled into silence. But he knew that wouldn’t last.

  He quickly went on. “I’m electing Erik in Elena’s place at the table. No one knows the west better than he does and he is a direct descendent to the western hierarchy.”

  “Ivan is,” John Paul interjected. “That chair rightfully belongs to him.”

  “Elena and Ivan are fugitives against the west,” Erik stated. “Their crimes against the Syndicate and their own territory disqualify them from power.”

  “Hold on a minute,” Theresa spoke up, having come out of her shock. “Are we here to vote Elena out of the Syndicate? What has she done?”

  “She attempted to kill, and then kidnapped my daughter.” John Paul said, eyes fixed, cool and calculating on Dimitri. “This is a dangerous game you’re playing.”

  “With Elena and Ivan disqualified, that chair would have been given to me,” Dimitri said, ignoring the statement. “I’m forfeiting that right. That leaves it to Erik.”

  “You can’t do that,” Theresa blurted. “You no longer belong to that territory. You said so yourself.”

  Dimitri nodded. “Which is why I requested this meeting.”

  “He has my vote,” Marcus piped in. “The east and the west never saw eye to eye. Maybe this will change things.”

  Erik inclined his head, but said nothing.

  “I want Elena.” John Paul flicked his steely gaze to Erik. “That is my condition. Bring her to me and you have my vote.”

  Erik hesitated. A muscle tightened in his jaw that Dimitri understood; no matter what Elena was and what she’d done, she was still his sister. He partially wondered where his sentiments were. She was his mother. That should have meant something, but there wasn’t even a flicker of apprehension in him. No doubt. No remorse. They could have been talking about demolishing a building for all the love and warmth he felt regarding the matter.

  “I accept,” Erik said at last, with more conviction than Dimitri could see on his face.

  Theresa sighed. “You have my vote. Getting rid of Elena is all I’ve wanted since taking the chair. What?” she snapped when the others stared at her. “She’s a psychopath. I can stomach blood with the best of them, but she made even my stomach churn.”

  “That leaves me.” Dimitri took up the conversation. “Erik already has my vote.”

  “It’s unanimous,” Marcus said.

  “That’s interesting.” Theresa smirked. “I don’t think that’s ever happened. We must really want to see Elena crucified.” She looked from one to the other. “Does anyone know where she is?”

  “No.” Erik rose smoothly. “But the west will be putting word out that she is no longer in power.”

  “And we will certainly do the same,” Theresa purred, already on her phone, fingers flying over the keys. “Let’s see if we can’t dig her out of whatever little hole she’s hiding in and…” She sent off her text, set her phone down, and beamed. “Have ourselves a proper lynching.” Chuckling at her own joke, she bounced out of her seat, more alive and happy than Dimitri had ever seen her. “I think I might give Penny the day off.”

  With that, she gathered her things and stalked to the elevator. One perfectly manicured finger jabbed at the button. While she waited, she turned back to the group of men studying her.

  “I nearly forgot. Any luck on capturing The Devil?”

  It was amusing to watch four fully grown men shift in their seats and avert their eyes.

  “He didn’t take the bait,” Marcus muttered. “We’re going to try again.”

  After his run in with Chan Lee, Dimitri had promised himself he’d be more careful about where he went. He couldn’t afford to get captured by the Syndicate. Even Marcus wouldn’t hesitate to have his head if ever knew just how much Dimitri had stolen from him.

  “Try harder,” Theresa drawled lazily as the elevator doors rolled open. “He’s becoming a pest that is no longer adorable. Take him out.”

  She dug out her phone and stepped into the metal box.

  They waited until she was gone before facing each other.

  “I’d like to take her out,” Marcus muttered when the doors had sealed shut. “What?” He laughed when the others eyed him. “I mean to dinner. She’s a colossal bitch, but she’s hot. I like hot, feisty women with legs like hers.”

  No one wanted to touch that.

  “What about Elena?” Erik reverted the conversation back to the matter at hand.

  “We should get the word out,” John Paul said. “The more eyes looking for her, the less places she’ll have to hide.”

  “I’ll inform my men.” Marcus got to his feet, phone in hand. “The east won’t give her passage.”

  Dimitri followed the man when he moved across the room to make his call. Marcus looked up when Dimitri stopped in front of him.

  “I’m sorry about your cousin,” he said quietly. “He was a good man.”

  Confusion wrinkled Marcus’s nose. “Hector? Why? What happened?”

  Dimitri braced himself. “He died saving my and Ava’s life the night before when men Elena sent to his house shot him.”

  “What?” Marcus laughed. “Hector’s fine. He texted me t
his morning to see if you arrived.”

  It was Dimitri’s turn to blink. “What?”

  “Yeah, see?” Marcus showed him the text time stamped for some time earlier that morning.

  “He was shot,” Dimitri argued.

  Marcus shrugged, lower his arm. “Hector gets shot a lot. Never dies though. Mi mama says he made a deal with the devil.”

  Dimitri almost choked on his laugh, but didn’t comment.

  Grinning, Marcus clapped him on the arm once before hurrying away to make his call.

  “You okay?” Erik came up behind Dimitri, hands lost in his pockets. “She’s my sister, but she’s your mom.”

  Dimitri had thought of that when he’d had the idea to bring Erik into the Syndicate. But Elena had sealed her own fate. She had gone after John Paul, breaking one of the oldest accordance’s in the book. It was one thing for their territories to fight between each other, but they were the leaders. They and their family was out of bound to the other leaders and the other territories. Going against that treaty was punishable by death.

  But she’d gone after Ava. Even if John Paul could forgive that, Dimitri couldn’t.

  “She brought it on herself,” he told the man.

  Erik nodded. “Yes, but … she is still your mother.”

  Maybe by birth, but Elena had never felt like a mother. She was more like an employer, one that had the power to end your life if angered. She had said herself that she wasn’t capable of motherly affection. Having children was just her way of passing along the throne one day, of wielding power and two loyal warriors. It would have made no difference to her if one of them had died so long as she had another one to replace him. He knew that the only reason she’d agreed to back him for the north was the power she would gain by having a son in a seat of such high regards. There had been no pride in her. It was all about what Dimitri could do for her.

  “Are you okay?” He decided to ignore Erik’s question when he couldn’t give a proper answer.

  Erik shrugged. “My sister has always been complicated. Our father … your grandfather, wasn’t an easy man to be around.”

  Dimitri had never met his grandparents. People in their line of work didn’t live very long to enjoy a family. But Elena told them often of her father, of the bear of a man with hands large enough to wrap around their heads and squeeze until blood was pouring from their nostrils and feet bigger than canoes that could kick them clear across a field. Dimitri may never have met the man, but he was fairly certain he would have killed him.

  “Don’t lie to John Paul,” Dimitri said quietly. “You made a promise.”

  Anger tightened the skin around Erik’s eyes. “I know how a promise works, Dimitri. I will not go back on my word.”

  Dimitri was about to nod when he caught sight John Paul heading for the elevators. He said he’d call Erik later and hurried after him just as the doors slid open and the other man stepped into the metal box.

  The doors closed behind them, sealing them in, and Dimitri wondered the wisdom of what he was about to do.

  “I recant my word,” he said, never taking his eyes off the thin seam running lengthwise down the gleaming, steel sheets separating him from all chances of escape. “I love her and I will fight for her, even if I’m fighting you.”

  The lights above the door blinked steadily, almost lazily ticking off floors in a slowness that made every second of silence unbearably painful. The man beside him never moved. He never looked away from the lights. Dimitri was nearly certain he hadn’t heard him, when…

  “You don’t deserve her.”

  “No,” Dimitri admitted softly. “And I never will, but I am willing to die for her. I would kill for her. I would set this entire city up in flames to keep her safe. You will never find anyone who will ever cherish her more than I will.”

  “You can’t have her.”

  He’d expected that. It was strange that it no longer meant anything to him.

  “You can’t stop me.”

  There was a sound, a chuckle maybe, but when he dared a peek, the man’s face was a frigid line.

  “I could.”

  “You won’t,” Dimitri countered smoothly. “She would hate you.”

  The door opened. Neither of them moved.

  “I lost her once,” Dimitri murmured quietly. “I won’t lose her again. If you’re going to kill me, you better do it and make sure I’m dead, because if you stop me again, I will end you.”

  He walked out and never looked back.

  The rental was still there when he emerged, with a bright, yellow tag tucked beneath the wiper telling him he owed the city bi-law three hundred dollars for parking in a no parking zone.

  The ticket was tossed somewhere into the car. The rental company would take care of it and put the bill on his credit card. In the scheme of things, the ticket meant nothing to him.

  He drove to John Paul’s estate with the dedication of someone outrunning the end of the world. His mind was playing and replaying all the things he would say to her when he parked at the base of the stairs and climbed out. He pocketed the keys and jogged up the steps.

  He knocked, which surprised even him. The whole way there, he’d had an image of himself just storming into the building, grabbing her, pulling her into his arms, and kissing her until she forgave him. Yet, the moment he was standing before those great doors, he realized he didn’t deserve her forgiveness that easily, not for the way he’d behaved, not for the things he’d said to her, the things he’d done. It had been his fault she had been kidnapped. It had been his fault her best friend had nearly been killed. If she forgave him because of a kiss, she wouldn’t be the girl he loved.

  The door opened and Ava’s freshly scrubbed face peered back at him through the crack. Her hair was pulled back into a messy knot and she wore yoga pants and a white t-shirt that clearly showed the black bra underneath. She blinked at the sight of him, but her surprise quickly vanished into a wide smile.

  “Hey!” She opened the door wider. “I wasn’t sure when I was going to see you again. Want to come in?”

  He shook his head. He didn’t want to risk pissing John Paul off even more than he already was at Dimitri.

  “What are you doing tonight?”

  A fine crease appeared between her delicate eyebrows. “I was just getting ready to go over to Robby’s and get a late lunch. Why?”

  He searched the perfect lines of her features, the sweet curves of her mouth, the adorable way the tip of her nose tipped up just slightly, and wondered how the hell he’d survived without her the last eight years. His sanity deserved some kind of medal for its resistance.

  “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

  Time became an endless loop of dread and anticipation while he waited for her answer. Her silence was the most excruciating thing he’d ever experienced.

  “Yes,” she whispered at last. “I’d like that.”

  It felt too easy, even as he inclined his head and blurted something about picking her up at eight, a part of him kept waiting for her to come to her senses and tell him to take a flying leap. He would have certainly deserved it. He had absolutely no right at all to come waltzing into her life after the way he’d treated her the first time. But he was a selfish bastard and he wanted her. Hell, he needed her. He may not ever deserve her, but he’d work his ass off to come close.

  “Dimitri?”

  With one hand on the handle of the car door, he glanced back to where she stood, small and perfect in the open doorway.

  “Don’t be late.” She shot him a lopsided grin before shutting the door.

  No. He would most definitely not be late.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Sign here.” The small, French manicured finger slid down the length of the page to yet another line. “And here.” The page was flipped over before Dimitri even had a chance to lift the pen. “A few more,” the tiny blonde promised. “Here. Here. And … here.”

  Penny, Theresa’s assistant was th
e polar opposite of her boss. Where Theresa was a powerhouse of sophistication, charm, and confidence, Penny was timid, skittish, and looked like she was so stressed out, she’d forgotten to eat … for a week. There were dark circles under her gray eyes and a perpetual tremor in her chin like she was just holding on. And every so often, he’d hear the faint whine of her stomach.

  “Here,” her voice cracked slightly. “I’m sorry.”

  Dimitri shook his head. “Don’t be.”

  She flipped the ninth page of what could have passed for an encyclopedia. Her fingers were beginning to tremble, making the pages rustle. Dimitri wondered if it was from fear of his impatience or hunger.

  “Here.”

  “How long have you been with Theresa, Penny?” he disturbed the crackle of papers to ask.

  “Two years, sir. Here.”

  “Impressive.” He ticked the box she indicated. “You must be very good at what you do.”

  “Yes sir.” She flipped to the next page.

  “What exactly do you do?”

  She paused in her signature directing and straightened a notch. “Whatever Ms. Maynard requires.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  He looked up at her. “Do you like your job?”

  Her hesitation spoke before she did. “Of course. Ms. Maynard is a … wonderful employer.”

  Her lie was so thick, he almost choked on it. But he let it slide and focused on the next set of documents and the low whimper growing increasingly louder the longer she leaned over him.

  “Are you hungry, Penny?”

  She visibly started. “Sir?”

  He scribbled his signature where she indicated and turned the page himself. “Are you hungry?”

  “Uh…”

  “I haven’t had lunch yet,” he went on, indicating to the untouched plate of burger and fries growing cold at his elbow. “And since you’re here, asking me to sign away my soul and first born, you should at least join me.”

  He could have sworn there was a glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes before she blinked them away and squared her thin shoulders.