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

by Airicka Phoenix

  John Paul stiffened the same time Dimitri did. The coil in their muscles filled the small room with a thick sort of tension only those averse to law enforcement would understand. Neither glanced at each other. They didn’t need to.

  “Ms. Emerson?” The taller of the two stepped forward. “We’d like to ask you some questions.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “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 the 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.

  “That’s kind, but Ms. Maynard is expecting me straight back.”

  Dimitri flicked a glance up at her face. “There’s at least another hour of signatures here. Sit.”

  Her butt hit the chair like an obedient retriever. He pretended not to notice. He returned his attention to the pages.

  “Eat.”

  He was careful not to look at her again while he skimmed through the documents Theresa had deemed imperative he address immediately.

  “Official Syndicate business,” she’d called it in her text.

  He still wasn’t sure how she’d managed to track him down across town at the hole in the wall burger joint, but that was where Penny had found him.

  The papers were his acceptance into the organization. It officiated his position, his duties, and obligations. There was even a map outlining the exact perimeters of his territory.

  His territory.

  Christ.

  His hand gave a tremor that disfigured his otherwise confident and aggressive loops.

  He had a territory.

  It hadn’t really been a reality until that moment as he signed his life away, in one case, quite literally. He was officially the head of the city. His title stated the north, but it was all his. He held sixty percent of a hundred percent share. He just became the wealthiest man in the entire province.

  “Jesus.”

  “I’m sorry?” Penny’s head jerked up so quickly, he heard the snap of her neck.

  Her big eyes seemed even bigger over the bulges of her stuffed cheeks. One bit of fry sat on her lip, half chewed, half being shoved the rest of the way, but now frozen as she blinked at him around horrified guilt.

  “No, not you,” Dimitri said quickly when she started to lower her hand, half eaten fry still pinched between her fingers. He shoved his untouched drink closer to her. “Keep eating. I want that plate empty.”

  He went back to staring at his new life, a life of unimaginable power, wealth, and, Christ, power! So much fucking power. He could feel it rushing through his veins in a burning wave.

  He couldn’t breathe. A tsunami of emotions rolled over him, sucking him through the carnage until he was crushed by it. The heady sensation was both exhilarating and terrifying. He didn’t know whether to cry or laugh.

  He was untouchable.

  No. No one was untouchable. Not even him. But in that moment, he may as well have been.

  “Sir?” Penny hastily set the empty cup down, wiped her hands and fingers on a napkin, and rose. “Please, sir, I really need to get back.”

  With a sigh, he placed his signature on the last line on the last page and closed the file.

  “I think that’s the last of it.” He stacked it all neatly together and passed them to her, noting how much steadier her grip seemed to be. “Anything else?”

  She shook her head. “No, thank you, and I’m very sorry.”

  “For?”

  Her cheeks turned a violent red that almost had him concerned. “For interrupting your lunch … for eating your lunch. God, I’m so sorry!” She reached for her purse. “I’ll get you a fresh plate.”

  He stopped her when she turned on her heels and started searching for a waiter. “Penny…”

  Her face had gone a deathly white. “No, no, I … I’ll fix this.”

  He rose when her voice hitched and took her firmly by the shoulders. He held on until her tear filled eyes stopped darting frantically around.

  “Slow breaths,” he instructed softly. “You’re fine.”

  He watched her carefully, waiting for her rapid, shallow breaths to even out, fully prepared to force her head between her knees if necessary.

  “I’m okay,” she croaked. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t tell Ms. Maynard.”

  He relinquished his grip on her. “Do you have everything?”

  With a sniffle, she nodded.

  “Good, now, calm down, collect yourself and get back.”

  She nodded again, more vigorously. “Thank you, sir.”

  “I don’t want it,” he said when she pulled out several folded bills. “Just get there safely, okay?”

  File clutched to her chest, she hurried off the restaurant’s patio and ducked into a rusty pile of crap that was more duct tape than metal. The yellow bug must have been something she got from a dump for a penny. It wasn’t worth more than that. If anything, it was a death trap just waiting to explode if she braked wrong.

  It shrieked as she pulled away from the curb. He heard it all the way down the block and around the corner.

  He put down what he owed for the meal, plus a little something extra, and left the restaurant. He caught a cab to the financial district, a fifty block radius dedicated entirely to people helping other people spend their money while skimming a little extra off the top. Time Group Financial, the home of Evan Maynard sat in the very heart of it, a sophisticated spear of glass and steel twisted into to a tower of power. It rose above the city line from a hilt of concrete. Dimitri had never had a reason to visit the place, but he had one now.

  He dug out his phone and called Theresa.

  She answered on the fifth ring. “God invented texting for a reason, Tasarov,” was he
r greeting.

  Dimitri prolonged his response by wandering over to a street vendor and motioning for the number two hotdog combo.

  “And I suppose competence is for the gifted,” he replied as his hotdog was prepared. “Next time you want something done properly, send someone who actually knows what they’re doing and not some scared little mouse that jumps at her own shadows. The girl’d been useless. I’m actually insulted that you would interrupt my lunch with her.”

  He accepted his fully loaded hotdog, drink, and bag of ranch chips, and made his way to a nearby bench.

  “Penny has been a very successful project of mine for nearly two years. I hand trained her myself. I don’t believe—”

  “Then maybe feed her once in a while before she blows away with the wind. I’m a bit embarrassed for you.”

  Something cracked in the background. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m just saying.” He took a bite of his hotdog. “She’s supposed to be representing you, and from what I gathered, she makes you look weak and pathetic. Just being helpful.”

  He hung up. Then he waited.

  He could have counted the exact moment from the time he cut communication to the second Penny stormed from the building on one hand. She held a box of her things against her chest and looked about two seconds from bursting into tears. He almost felt bad for her.

  Dimitri rose. He tossed his wrappers into a trash bin and went to her.

  “Penny.”

  Her head snapped up. Bits of pale blonde blew across her flushed, wet cheeks. Her gray eyes blinked, then widened.

  “You!” Her items were slammed down on a marble ledge making up the flowerbeds lining the stairway to the front doors. “You got me fired!”

  Dimitri nodded. “I did.”

  Tears skated down her cheeks, but her expression was livid. “Why would you do that?”

  He held out a napkin that she ignored. He sighed and stuffed it into her hand anyway. She pitched it aside angrily. The wind caught it and it drifted out of sight.

  “All right,” he mumbled. “I understand you’re upset—”

  “I am … pissed!” she spat, almost screamed. “This job was my life! I worked my ass off to keep that woman happy. I sacrificed everything…”

  “Breathe, Penny,” he murmured softly when she began to wheeze.

  “Fuck you!” she shrieked at him. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

  He had to remind himself she had every right to be angry when his own temper prickled.

  “I got you away from a man-eating beast,” he snarled back. “Tell me you actually liked the way you were being treated.”

  She said nothing for a long time, but the anger didn’t dim from her eyes. They continued to shine like she wanted nothing more than to kick him in the crotch.

  “I needed that job,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “I needed that job!” she said louder. “You had no right to decide anything for me. And to think I actually thought you were one of the decent ones. Why would you do this?”

  “Because you would never have left and she would never have let you go otherwise.”

  Penny blinked. “What?”

  “I want you to work for me.”

  Her jaw swung open so wide, he could see all the way down to her tonsils. “What?”

  “I need an assistant, a good one. I don’t like searching for things and you seem qualified.”

  “I seem qualified?” She stared at him like he was a moron. “You had me fired because I seem qualified?”

  Dimitri exhaled, patience waning. “Do you want the job or not?”

  She gasped, disgust curling her lips. “Yes, I want the bloody job! I clearly need one now, thanks to you.”

  “Good. You can start now.”

  He started turning on his heels.

  “Hold on a minute,” she called after him. “You haven’t told me what I’m getting paid.”

  He paused and glanced back. “What were you getting paid before?”

  She hesitated. “Twenty-five an hour?”

  “Okay, double that.”

  Penny blinked, quickly caught herself. “I mean, thirty, plus full benefits.”

  “Done.”

  She bit down her lip, poorly concealing the grin glowing in her eyes.

  “You can add an hour lunch to that,” he continued.

  “And weekends off?” she pressed, carefully, slowly, a little fearfully.

  Dimitri nodded. “Fine.”

  She gave a little gasp, something between an exhale and a squeak. But she must have remembered she was supposed to be a professional, because she straightened quickly and rearranged her features to appear stoic.

  “Deal, but I want all that in writing.”

  “Write it up and I’ll sign it.”

  She snatched up her box. “Lead the way, sir.”

  They left her car. He refused to get into it and she didn’t seem eager to have him in it. Instead, they grabbed a cab that he hadn’t realized he had nowhere to take until they were crammed into the backseat.

  “Sir?” Penny prompted when Dimitri sat squinting at the back of the driver’s seat, trying to determine what was supposed to happen next. “Was there somewhere you wanted to go?”

  He didn’t. All of this was new to him. He hadn’t really thought any of it out. Penny hadn’t been part of his plan that day. He’d gone to have lunch and think over what he wanted to do with Ava later when he picked her up. Penny had been a surprise.

  “Sir…?” The driver abruptly broke off when Dimitri’s gaze snapped up, narrowed with warning.

  “Okay, um…” Penny bit her lip, thought for a moment. “Do you have an office?”

  Dimitri shook his head.

  “That’s okay!” She cleared her throat and turned to the sheet of glass separating them from the uncomfortable man on the other side. “Corner of Teal and Warden, please.”

  “What’s there?” Dimitri asked.

  Penny sat back, adjusting her box more comfortable on her lap. “Nothing, but at least we’re not just sitting here, and by the time we get there, maybe we’ll have a plan. So, what are your plans?” she asked as the car turned into the flow of afternoon traffic.

  Judging by its thickness, he guessed a two-hour drive to where they were going. That suited him fine. He liked driving. It cleared his head.

  “I really don’t have one,” he admitted, admiring the driver’s tenacity when he cut three cars off and still flipped them off when they leaned on their horns.

  “Okay…”

  Items were shoved carelessly around in the box as she dug through them. He watched as she mumbled absently to herself while pulling out a fake, potted plant, a stapler, several hair elastics, a makeup case, and a framed photo.

  That caught his eye. He tilted his head slightly to study the boy grinning back at the camera, holding a trophy three times his size.

  “Brother?”

  “Hmm?” Penny lifted her head, swiped back several locks of pale hair and followed his gaze. “Oh no, that’s my son, Daniel.”

  Dimitri blinked. “He’s, what? Eight?”

  “Nine.” She peered at the photo, lips curved in a soft smile.

  He really looked at the woman seated next to him, attempting to judge her age. It really made no difference, but he’d been under the assumption she was in her early twenties.

  “You don’t look old enough to have a nine-year-old,” he told her honestly.

  Penny laughed and tucked the frame back into the box. “I was sixteen when I had him. He’s my whole world.”

  “What’s the trophy for?”

  Her grin blossomed into an arrogant smirk only a mother could pull off. “He’s also a genius.” She pulled the photo out again and showed him. “First place at the National Artificial Intelligence Competition—NAIC. That’s where kids from all across the country…” she said country like it was something that needed extra attention, “compete to see who can build the best, high tech robot
of the future. Daniel won … three years in the row, even though he’s the youngest competitor to date,” she finished with a haughty tone that had his lips twitching. “This was last year.” She smoothed her fingers along the dark, wood frame. “He’s going to compete again in the fall.”

  “That’s amazing.”

  “I think so.” Beaming, she stowed the photo away and went back to rummaging. She came back out with a pen and crumpled notepad. She flipped to a fresh page and turned to him. “So, what do you do?”

  Dimitri had to consider that carefully before answering. He couldn’t very well tell her, rob people, for a living. Although, she worked for Theresa so she probably wouldn’t be overly surprised.

  “I know about … the other stuff,” she said quietly when he took too long to answer, just under her breath. “It doesn’t bother me.”

  Dimitri bit the inside of his cheek to contain his grin. “What other stuff?”

  “Other … stuff,” she stressed slowly. “Syndicate business.”

  Of course she did. Theresa wouldn’t have sent her with papers for Dimitri to sign regrading Syndicate business if she hadn’t trusted Penny with the information.

  “I currently have no business,” he told her evenly. “Other or otherwise.”

  A fine crease appeared between her brows while she mulled that over carefully. The top of her pen tapped rhythmically on the coils of her notepad. She said nothing when the driver swerved in and out through heavy traffic like an Indy five hundred racer. He had to give her props for that. Most would have soiled themselves at the pace.

  “Then, let’s start small,” she decided. “Office space. Once you have a general idea of what you want to do, I’ll look up proper locations and building structures.” She scribbled on her page while she spoke. “We’ll need a name and logo, and business cards. Employees, obviously, which means interviews.”

  Dimitri stopped listening. Business had never been his strong suit. He didn’t care for the confinement of a suit and desk. All the other heads had corporations they hid behind, legit businesses that kept suspicious eyes from prying. John Paul invested hugely in pharmaceuticals. Elena had several herbal shops throughout the city catering to the wellness of body and mind—which Dimitri always found highly ironic. Theresa’s family held a large portion of the city’s financial holdings and Marcus’s family wielded a firm grip on games. They operated everything from horses, to the casinos and fighting rings. But Dimitri had no business plans. He didn’t think there was anything for what he did. Vigilantes couldn’t exactly open their own shop and hand out business cards.