Eventually, I end up at the smaller dining area reserved for breakfast and lunch. Rich people are so strange needing so many different rooms to eat in. The space is stunning and a bit more modern compared to the formal dining room that’s used for dinner. The table in here is made up of thick glass and seats eight in a huge circle. The table and chairs are positioned directly in front of an enormous window that overlooks the gorgeous property out back that’s been landscaped with so many flowers it could supply a florist if needed.
The spread along the glass top is far too much food for twenty people to eat, let alone the four people here, myself included. And there’s orange juice. I’ve discovered it’s one of my favorite things to drink. I’d only had water for so long, that it’s a sweet treat. The burst of flavor it leaves on your tongue and the sugar, it’s like a glass full of sunshine.
“Hello,” I greet as I enter the room. Beau told me to always announce my presence. Where the Master wanted my silence, Beau and his father want the opposite. He says it’s because being a cop and being involved with the Mafiya, they want to know who’s around and who’s listening at all times. I wouldn’t dream of eavesdropping on them; they’ve shown me far too much kindness to do that to them. The Master was different. He acted as if I didn’t exist the majority of the time and wasn’t concerned if I heard him. I guess he always expected to kill me one day so it never crossed his mind if I heard them talk about business. I wonder if he regrets it now?
I shudder with the internal thoughts.
“You cold?” Beau asks, his gaze concerned while the other two men greet me in return.
I take the space next to him, on the other side a chair between them is his cousin and then another chair between them as well is his father. Spaced out like this, it’s easy to see everyone as they speak. My lips turn up in a brief smile as I shake my head. The temperature’s perfect. I was thinking of the monster that haunts my dreams and past.
I must’ve interrupted, as Viktor picks up on the conversation they were having when I came in.
“Help yourself, young lady.” The older Victor nods to the spread and my eyes widen, trying to figure out what delicious item I should start with. I go for the orange juice as Viktor speaks to Beau and his father.
“So they told you that Russia is the next event. Did you find out if they’re going to be out of the country more, or is this a special occasion?”
“This is definitely special. They invited me along, not only for the next auction but so I could be around to have my first pick as the women come in. I guess this is also a working trip for them to replenish the hoard.”
I watch Beau aptly as he speaks, no amount of orange juice can wet my throat with the words he’s just spoken. It’s dry as I think what he means. The Master is going back to my beloved country to capture more girls and women. And the worst part is they want Beau to go too.
There’s a good chance he’ll leave and never return. Lots of men would show up at the Master’s for special trips, and I’d never see them again. Not that I cared at the time about any of them, but this is different.
He places his favorite Russian pastry on my plate, offering me a smile as he continues.
“I think it’s time to bring Finn back and have him go as well. I have a feeling this could be it, the perfect time to free them along with finding out where he has the others. With the right amount of money and trust, their lips will continue to loosen.”
“I’ll go too.” Viktor nods.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“You need help, Beau. Let your cousins come. They know how to handle this sort and no one will cross you with the Mafiya and Bratva flanking you. And then you will be home, you will have enough men there and with you to shut these Sicilians down.” Part of me wonders if this has been his father’s plan, to have Beau get in deeper with the family business. He’s eating it up that Beau isn’t at home being a cop and everyone can see it.
“We’re certain it’s the Sicilians?” Viktor asks, taking a drink from his coffee cup.
“Don Franchetti.” The older Victor nods,.“Time to snuff him out. I should’ve taken care of it long ago. Back then he wasn’t much of a threat, neither was his brother. Most of the other families stayed out of mine and Gizya’s way. They all knew not to go against us.”
“I can handle Bratva business,” the younger replies tensely and I’m just sitting here flabbergasted that they’re speaking like this in front of me. It’s all so open and a little unnerving.
“Good?” Beau smiles kindly down at me as I pick at the powdery delicacy. He’s no doubt already eaten several of them. I don’t know how he can eat so many of the sweets and not get sick from it.
I nod, no longer smiling. I can’t fake that right now, when I know the danger he’ll be facing soon. Russia is a long trip too. That means they’ll probably have to leave on Thursday. I remember when they first took me and they said we were leaving the country. It felt like we were on the plane forever; no way was it only one day to travel.
“I’ll bring along Spartak and Alexei along with a few others. I’ll see if Tatkiv is free and can bring some of his men as well. We need to appear like we’re interested in buying.”
“Leave Niko at home; this is too close for him,” Beau responds, his attention back on the others. “I’m grateful for the men, but this trip has to be quick. I only have one more week off work before the chief expects me back. He has another assignment for me, and he’s waiting.”
That means he’ll be gone even longer if he makes it back safely. How long would we be apart then? How long do missions or assignments or whatever last for undercover police officers? Is there a specific time frame? Two nights is bad enough; I can’t imagine him being away for even longer. I need to be strong for him and I want to, but the depression eats at me when he’s far from me.
“I agree, Niko needs to stay back. I’ll tell my brother. We need to come up with a flight plan. Contact Capelloni, and make sure he won’t spook if we show up.”
“I will, I’ll see what details I can squeeze out of him, pretending I’m over-excited for the new stock.”
Beau’s going to speak with Yema. I need to figure out a way to get him to take me with him.
“Who’s Tory, by the way? I’d forgotten all about meeting him until I found his card in my pocket.” Beau stares at his father curiously.
Victor grins, the first real smile about something that doesn’t have to do with his own son. “Good ol’ Tory. He is a field agent, FBI. I did not know he was still working.”
“How do you know him?”
“He helped me a few times with problems. You do not need to worry, moy sin.”
“No? Funny that right after I shake hands with the man, the FBI is calling the department to speak with me.”
“He may want to know why you are there. He is good man, Beau. If you see him at these, use him, he can give you information.”
Beau nods, but I can tell he’s not completely sold on his father’s information. I wait patiently, quietly biding my time until Beau and I can be alone, until I can state my case and get him to let me go with him. I have to protect him and I can help.
What you think, you become.
-Buddha
“You can’t make me stay here.” Sasha glares while shaking her head and grumbling. I thought it was adorable when she began to plead her case to me about wanting to help me.
She was sorely mistaken, believing she could talk me into anything though. Our discussion went from polite and quiet to a full-blown screaming match in no time once she let it be known she was planning on coming with me no matter what I said. She’s a stubborn woman that knows exactly how to push my buttons.
“I can and I will.” I shrug.
“Russia’s my home, I want to go.”
“Nyet, your home’s here now. End of discussion, let’s talk about something else.”
“You have to take me, Beau! This isn’t fair,” she declare
s angrily, not letting the topic drop. I’m a little surprised she didn’t stomp her foot, with the determined look crossing her face. She’s pissed and she’s not letting me change the subject.
My hand shoots out, grasping a handful of her hair, pulling her close enough so she can feel my breath on her skin as I glower down at her, standing my ground and lay it out. It’s for her protection. I hate having to try and scare her, but I want her here, in my father’s house, safe. “I don’t have to do shit. I saved your ass. Literally purchased you from your kidnapper’s grip, and you’re standing here, telling me that you want me to take you right back into the middle of that hell. Well, get over it. You’re staying the fuck here.”
“You’re worse than he is!”
“Oh really? I don’t recall stealing you away from your family and forcing you to have sex with me!” I shouldn’t say it, but it happens before I have a chance to take it back. I don’t want to hurt her more than she’s already been, but I have to be a bastard to protect her from the real monsters.
“He wasn’t like that,” she mutters, her eyes falling to the ground.
No way she said those words…surely I heard her wrong. Sasha can’t worry about that filth. “I can’t believe this shit. You have Stockholm Syndrome.”
“No, you’re wrong.”
“Am I?” Angrily, I palm her skull and shake her as I shout, “You mean to tell me, that you don’t love him?” I’ve lost it. I’m too far gone for her, and even the thought that she could care for him has me going insane inside.
“Stop! Just stop it! You’ll never find him,” Tears fall over her cheeks and so help me, it makes me want to shake her harder. I want to make him completely disappear from her mind. Only one man should take up space there now, and that’s me. I never should’ve gotten involved with her like this. I knew this would happen that she couldn’t handle belonging to a man like me.
“Shut up,” I growl.
“Without me you won’t get to him.” She sobs. “And if you do somehow figure out where he is, he’ll never let you have the women, not without me there to help you.”
Her declaration makes me sick inside. Dropping her hair as if she’s a toxic virus, I step away. She needs to dispose him from her mind. He’ll ruin her…he’ll ruin us if he’s still implanted in her thoughts all the time.
Another sob from her and she lets out a nearly-silent plea, “Please.”
She no longer belongs to him. She’s mine now, I’ve told her this, yet she wants to go back into the lion’s den.
“Nyet.” I state firmly. Twisting on my heels, I storm out of her room, slamming the door behind me.
“Let me out of here! I’m coming!” She screams through the barrier, pounding her petite fists against the wood.
Angry and hurt, I repeat myself. It’s far too low for her to overhear me, but I have to say it. Not just for her, but for myself. “Nyet.” I want to shower her with everything she could possibly wish for, but I refuse to give her this; her safety and life means way too much to me.
Pounding until my hands ache and burn, my body eventually falls to the floor while I weep with sorrow. How could he treat me like this? He told me that I could say whatever I wanted and now that I have something to speak about, something to wish for, he refuses me. He’s filled me with so much hope inside, so much love and now he’s going to leave…again.
Each time is another chance he may not return. I’ve had the only person I cared about in my life stolen from my very grasp, and now it could be happening all over again.
All those women—stolen, raped, drugged, beaten, tortured, starved, burned to death, and he won’t let me help him find them. I actually want to do my part. I’m okay here, being taken care of; I want to give them some peace too. For so many years I was unable to do anything or else risk my own death.
I have an opportunity to possibly save some of the others, but instead, I’m being forced to stay here, locked up in this room. It’s like I’m a prisoner all over again, only Beau doesn’t treat me like I’m worth anything money wise. He acts as if he can’t touch me intimately like I’ll burn him or something. Why can’t he realize that I want this, I want to be with him?
Even the men who liked nothing more than to hurt me, offering up huge sums of money to have their turn, looked at me as if I were made of gold. The Master never let them buy me, biding his time, breaking me down piece by piece. Here I’m just a burden, the next charity case that’s nothing but trash. I’m nothing compared to Beau and his father, even his cousin. Always trapped in a man’s world where they believe they rule over everything. In my case, they do.
I have to figure out how to do something. There must be a way that I can help free the women caught up in this horrendous sex and drug trade. I’m not Nikoli’s sister; I’m not someone they can control. I’ve been ordered around nearly my entire life, always having to please someone else. I know what the other victims are going through, what’s expected.
Beau and his cousins have no clue. The type of men and even women that come to the auctions aren’t people, they’re evil. Beau is harsh, but he’s nothing like the men I’ve come across in the past. He’s not malicious.
Climbing to my feet, I head back to the window. I know it’s secured by some high-tech lock, butI pull and push, trying to get the window sill to move even an inch. If I can just get it loose, maybe I can wedge something in between it to get it open.
I’m exhausted and the crying’s draining away what little energy I have. I slept well last night, but not the nights before. The nightmares, hell, even just the shadows I see at night keep me scrambling, thinking it’s one of the Master’s thugs ready to grab me and haul me back to serve them. I haven’t shared that with Beau yet. He thinks I’m afraid to be alone, but he doesn’t know it’s the nightmares that continue to haunt me that are so frightening.
I don’t want to even think of that name or those men. They’re the stuff bad dreams are made of, no doubt. The Master treats you like you’re his pet at first. Which is fine when he feels friendly, but when he’s angry, he beats you until you feel like an abused dog, scurrying into a corner, attempting to hide.
I shudder, remembering the shock of his fist hitting me when I was merely a girl.
There’s a knock on my door, stalling my efforts of wrenching the window open to make my escape.
“Dear?” It’s the maid. Beau’s father’s a very rich man. It’s disturbing how wealthy men have no issues with locking women up in rooms in their mansions. And Beau—he’s supposed to be different. No, he is different. He told me he doesn’t live like this, that he’s normal. Yet, he didn’t think twice about locking me away and demanding I stay put.
That’s not fair. I shouldn’t think of him that way; he’s shown me so much kindness since I’ve been brought here. I can’t help it though, I’m angry, the first real thing I want to do in my life and I’m being refused. Is it childish, my temper? Yes, but I’ve never been allowed to have one before and this is the first way that comes to me to express that feeling.
“Miss Sasha?” she calls again. She’s nice and I’m ignoring her. The only person besides Beau who’s tried to speak to me since I’ve arrived and I haven’t given her a chance.
“Y-yes?” I reply. It’s broken from my raw throat. I yelled as loud as I could through the door, but it didn’t matter. Nothing sways Beau once his mind’s made up, that much he made clear. He’s normally so soft and sweet with me, but this time it was like facing a boulder that wouldn’t budge, not even an inch.
“Are you hungry, dear? I have your supper.”
“No. Please tell them I’m not eating,” I reply stubbornly. It didn’t work before, but maybe it will this time. The only other times I’ve gotten away with not eating is when he’s gone away for the weekends to the auctions. As soon as he returns, he’s lecturing me and stuffing me full of food.
“Please, Miss Sasha. You’ll only make them angry, and you’ll get weak from not eating. Let me bring this in to
you.”
“No. I mean it. I’m not eating until they let me out. He wants to be a boulder; I will be too.” I didn’t mean to admit that last part, but who cares, too late now. She probably couldn’t hear me like this anyway.
“Very well then.” I can hear the genuine concern in her voice, and as much as I want to eat, I’m too upset to. It’s hard to eat when your body’s wound up. You’d think I would’ve learned over the years to eat when commanded, and I did for the Master, but here it’s the only bargaining chip I have.
Mere moments pass before my door’s flung open with a furious Beau storming in, his cousin Viktor hot on his heels. The movement makes me jump and suck in my surprised breath.
Facing the two of them like this has my stomach twisting with anxiety. I don’t defy men. I was taught over and over it’s not acceptable, but Beau encourages me to speak my opinions out loud. It still freaks me out though.
“You’re not eating now?” he huffs, his hazel eyes ablaze, his body still strung tightly from our previous argument. He’s beautiful, full of so much passion.
“No. You’ll let me go, or I’ll starve myself.”
“Why must you make this so fucking hard? I give you a safe place with a comfortable bed and good food to eat, yet you fight me at every turn it seems. I rescue you from a money-starved psycho, yet you yell at me to let you return. I’m done being nice. You’ll eat or I’ll strap you to that bed and put a fucking IV in your arm.”
I’ve never seen him like this. I haven’t known him for long, a month now, but he’s never spoken to me full of demands. This is the man he was warning me about, that I wouldn’t know what to do with if I was really his. Somehow after all I’ve been through in the past, even that crawling up my spine, I’m not frightened of him. I know Beau won’t really hurt me. I can push him and he’ll fight back, but that’s all. I’m not scared of him. I adore him—my one.
Undercover Intentions Page 13