Undercover Intentions

by Sapphire Knight

  I’m sure he was also upset that I was fighting with him while his family was visiting. I should’ve waited until we were alone in bed to bring it up after he’d been able to relax.

  Susan pushes the door open with a timid smile. She’s probably scared after seeing me throw my fists toward Viktor yesterday, but she has nothing to worry about. I owe them all an apology for how I treated everyone. They’ve done nothing but show me kindness. I am disappointed, however, that Beau isn’t here to greet me first thing. I was really hoping we could talk before our day got started. I was looking forward to feeling him against me.

  “Morning, dear. Sleep well?”

  “Hi Susan, about yesterday; I’m so sorry.”

  “Shh-shh.” She waves her hand. “No need for that, it’s all right.”

  “I was very rude, and you’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

  “You were passionate; there’s nothing to forgive. It’s good you spoke up.”

  “Thank you.” I return her smile.

  “Are you hungry? There are fresh cooked waffles and blueberries waiting downstairs.”

  “Actually, I was hoping to see Beau first.” I climb to my feet, easing my way toward the door. “Is he in his room still?”

  Her smile falls and worry overtakes her gaze. “No ma’am, he’s not.”

  “Okay, then I’ll join him downstairs.”

  She doesn’t reply, just follows along as I go from room to room on the main level seeking him out. Finally I come to the last room he’d be in, the sitting room. The only person there waiting is his father.

  “Susan, where is Beau? Did he go for a walk without me?”

  She shakes her head, meeting Victor’s stern gaze.

  “Did he have to leave somewhere?” I pry.

  “Indeed, he did.” Her eyes never waver from her boss’s. I can tell she’s being careful with what she says.

  “Can you tell me where?” I press further, and Victor comes closer.

  “My dear, how about you join me for breakfast, and we’ll speak about moy sin.”

  “Okay, I was hoping to eat with Beau though, especially after yesterday.”

  “He had some business to attend to, so I’ll have to be your breakfast date this morning.”

  The massive grandfather clock we pass on the way chimes nine o’clock, so wherever he had to go, he must’ve left early.

  We each get seated, our plates piled high with waffles, fruit, butter, and syrup. I feel like I can’t wait a minute longer to ask my next question.

  “Do you know what time he’ll return?”

  His father chews his bite, swallows, and then meets my anxious eyes. “No, I’m afraid I do not.”

  “But it’s today, right?” I’ve grown bold with my questions and my voice over the past few weeks. Before, I never would’ve dreamed speaking this way, or how I had yesterday, especially to a man like Victor.

  “I make you a deal,” he suggests with his thick Russian accent more prominent. “You take bite and for each bite, I answer a question.”

  I nod, taking a decent-sized bite, chewing it quickly and swallowing so he’ll give in and tell me already.

  “Nyet.”

  “No?”

  “He will not return today.”

  The bite I just swallowed feels remarkably heavy, and if it were still in my throat, I don’t think I’d be able to get it down all the way.

  “I see.” I sip my from my glass of chilled orange juice and think carefully over my next few questions. I’ve discovered with these men you have to ask the right thing—the right way—to get the information you want. “Do you know what day he’ll return?”

  He nods to my plate, and I choke down another small bite. It all tasted wonderful until I discovered Beau wasn’t coming back today. Now my mind’s racing where he could be and what he’s doing. I wish he’d start taking me with him.

  “He should return on Sunday.”

  So long!

  “But that’s nearly a week away! Did he go to Russia for the next auction? When did he leave?” Questions tumble free as my mind runs wild.

  I can’t believe he left without saying goodbye. Did I anger him that much that he just slid off into the early morning without mentioning it? It hurts knowing he left the way he did.

  Victor stubbornly nods to my plate again, and so help me, I have to fist my hands as not to toss it. Taking a deep breath, I shove another bite in my mouth, not chewing so ladylike anymore, just trying to get it into my stomach, so the man will speak. The food’s tasteless to me now as I swallow it down.

  “They left the country, and moy sin wants you to stay here. I can keep you safe for him.”

  Why do I feel like I want to explode inside? He should’ve let me go with him. I know how to stay out of the way and I could’ve helped. It’s infuriating. I need to come up with a plan to get out of here. How, I have no idea. I’ve never escaped from anywhere before. I’ve always been too frightened to attempt it. I saw what happened to those that did, and it wasn’t pretty. It usually ended in a lot of blood from a sick hunting game involving the Master’s dogs or the scent of burning flesh.

  I know they wouldn’t do that to me here though. Well, I know Beau wouldn’t. He’s more protective rather than controlling. His father, however, I’m not so sure what lengths he’d go to, to keep me secure. He’s a lot harder inside than his son.

  “Moy sin left a phone for you to call him on. He may not answer right away, but he’ll return your call as soon as he has a quiet moment to do so.” He pulls the small black device free from the inside of his suit and sets it beside me.

  I stare at it. I have no idea how to use it. I’ve seen people use them, but I’ve never been allowed to. It has a shiny flat surface, and the rest is solid black plastic and metal.

  He notices my expression, his brows furrowing. “These can be tricky young lady, let me teach you how to work this new model. Phone companies are always changing them up.” He’s smart and he’s kind enough to word it so I don’t seem like a complete fool and my heart softens toward him a bit. In another life, this man could’ve been family to me.

  Family?

  Like Beau would’ve married someone like me? How on earth could that thought even enter my mind. I haven’t had silly thoughts like that since I was first stolen away and would dream I was waiting for a prince to come and save me. The prince never was there to marry me, only bring me safely back to my mother. It was the best thought my little head could conjure up at the time. I liked to pretend it was a game. The games helped get me through many years, pretending I was locked away in one of the useless fairy tales my mother would tell me about every night before I fell asleep.

  God, I miss her. I can’t help but wonder what my life would’ve been like growing up with her. She was so young and very beautiful. No, I can’t think of that now. I know my system will go into shock enough not having Beau here helping me feel safe and cared for. I don’t need to drag old thoughts in the mix as well.

  I’m so stupid for believing Beau would see things through my eyes and let me help him. He’s a man, and I’m in a man’s world. I suppose I should be grateful he entertains my thoughts at all. I haven’t had a man do that before.

  I am grateful. But I have to figure out a way to leave. If I’m truly free, they’ll let me go, and this’ll be a test. Let Beau see if he likes me leaving without telling him.

  Master used to taunt us and say, “While the Master’s away, the mice will play.” It was always a threat that he knew what went on at all times, even when he was away on a trip and we were left behind with the guards. I have an uncanny feeling the threat was toward everyone, not just us stolen girls.

  In this case, Beau is away and I’m going to test the limits. See how much I mean to him and if I’m really free. I don’t know where this sense of newfound bravery’s coming from. Perhaps from them letting me have opinions and from the anger. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anger like this. I’d made peace with my life;
it was over because I was simply theirs.

  Beau flares something alive inside me though. He makes me practically manic inside but, in the same sense, makes me swoon. I actually care what I look like, what I sound like, what he sees when his gaze is on me. My emotions aren’t shut off when I’m near him; they’re on maximum overdrive.

  Victor presses a button on the side of the device, making it light up and draws me from my internal thoughts.

  “See you press this here to get it to come to life. There is no code. You swipe your finger across the screen, like this.”

  “My finger?”

  “Da, the heat from fingertip will bring up the main screen.”

  I watch as his finger does indeed bring up a new screen with a mere swipe. It’s bright and only has a few options.

  “Hit this button with the picture of the phone.” He pushes it and a few numbers pop up. “This is my cell, Beau’s cell, Miss Susan, and then moy nephews Tatkiv and Viktor. You can call Susan if you cannot find her around here and need something. You call me if you need something and can’t reach moy sin. If you are ever in trouble—in danger—you call moy nephews and tell them what is wrong with you.”

  “Why would I tell your nephews?”

  “Because, moy dear, they will be able to help you, no matter what is happening.”

  “Like the auction?” I begin, and he nods.

  “Exactly like that. Anyone takes you or gives you a rough time, and they will send some men to help you immediately. You belong to moy sin now; his family is the Russkaya Mafiya and the Bratva. You know what that means, Sasha?”

  He never says my name, so I sense the seriousness in his question. “I believe so.”

  “It means he is powerful man.”

  I knew it once he told me about his cousins, but Victor is hitting it home. Beau is much more of a force than I’d suspected and from the little bits I’ve heard from his father, Beau could be the head of the Bratva had he not become a police officer and shed his family name to stay away from everything.

  He said I belong to Beau, but Beau has made it clear that he doesn’t own me, nor does he want to. I was right thinking his father is accustomed to a different life when it comes to owning a woman. Did he own Beau’s mother? I can’t help the question breaking free with my thoughts twirling around in my mind. He has me overfilled with questions and curiosity.

  “Did you own Beau’s mother?”

  He sits back in his chair, his eyes a bit wider, shedding the ever present, ever sturdy mask that’s always shuttered across his gaze. He’s so unshakable, so unchangeable at all times, that his surprise has my stomach twisting.

  “Nyet. We were arranged to be married as was custom. But that is in the past; we are no more.”

  He doesn’t admit that he’s never not owned a woman, though—just that it wasn’t Beau’s mother. I wonder what happened to them? Beau hasn’t told me much, just that he’s always been close with his mother and she wasn’t in the same life as his father. I was confused at first, but now I’m suspecting that his father loved her enough to let her go too. Even if it was an arrangement, you can’t help who you fall for.

  Beau met me one weekend, purchased me another and here I am, hopelessly waiting around, praying that he’ll keep me. Could he be like his father after all? Could he care for me and want to let me go because of it?

  I wish I knew more about him, to know for sure. Regardless, I have to get away from here. If Beau doesn't listen to me, then I need to leave and try to come up with a way to help them find these other missing women.

  “Thank you for the phone. May I be excused to try calling him?”

  “I wish you’d eat more first, you need your strength. It is what he wants.”

  “Thank you, but I’m not hungry anymore. I want to hear his voice. I’m sure it’ll make me feel better.”

  His eyes soften, and I’ve officially pulled off my first bit of deception. I’ve never been good at it before, but then no one’s ever trusted me either. I was always under scrutiny if I spoke or moved around too much in front of the Master.

  “Very well. Remember he may not answer, give him time, it’s dangerous.”

  “Right. Thank you.” I take the phone and head to my room. I’ll need shoes for my escape…

  Success and rest don’t sleep together.

  -Russian Proverb

  We exit from the sleek, expensive town cars that were sent to collect us from the private airstrip. My cousins didn’t go easy when it came to bringing men along. We’re rolling ten deep and who knows how many they have set up waiting for us to pull this mission off. I didn’t ask about those details, and they weren’t discussed along the way. I trust them. We simply worried about sleeping so we’d be ready and alert for whatever once we finally touched down on Russian soil. This could be an ambush for all we know, and there’s a chance we could be lacking sleep by the time we make it back to the plane.

  Yema along with a group of men are waiting to greet us outside what appears to be a damn miniature castle, and as one of them approaches me, two of our men step closer, standing in front of me like an unmovable wall. I feel what my father must’ve felt for the majority of his life—untouchable and dangerous. Those two are a wicked combination for a man to feel; it’s empowering, and that’s scary because it’s also energizing and addicting.

  “Welcome.” Yema steps beside the soldier that approached first. “He’s doing his job and checking for weapons, just following orders gentlemen.”

  I make my way between the two men shielding me. “I’ve never allowed you to touch me before and don’t think I’ll be allowing it now.” I scowl and Yema grins. No doubt testing to see how far I’ll let him push, but he’ll learn that it won’t be far.

  To say I’m strapped, that we’re prepared, is an understatement. I can feel the double shoulder holster hugging my favorite weapons against each side of my ribs. I have another Glock at my back and a smaller-sized gun strapped to my calf. I have a switchblade resting securely in the inside jacket pocket, two blades strapped to each forearm under my shirt and a razor taped to my ankle just in case shit goes south. I trained with SWAT and in hand-to-hand as well. I like to think I know how to hold my own.

  I’ve been undercover for a long time, and they don’t want to fuck with me when it comes to carrying. I’ve had to watch my back for far too long. I know Finn, Viktor, and Tatkiv are loaded down as well as the other men that came along with us.

  I faxed in my resignation to the force this morning before I left my father’s house. I knew there was a sizeable chance I’d be breaking countless laws on this trip and the Chief doesn’t deserve it. He’s been good to me, and in a sense, I feel guilty for quitting. I know he’s been waiting for me to return—for things to go back to how they were—but I can’t do it. There’s too much unfinished business I need to take care of, and I don’t think Sasha would fit in well if I went back undercover. She needs someone around all the time, not a man who can disappear for months at a time without any communication. She’d break more, and I’d never forgive myself. I’m planning on keeping her after this is over if she’ll have me, and I need to get my ducks in a row.

  Yema flashes a shark-like smile toward my cousins, trying to appear as if he’s not intimidated, but he’s probably shitting a brick inside. I told him I was bringing them, but I don’t think he believed me. I also left out that Finn would be along as well. So many men with so many ties in one place, I wouldn’t be surprised if we flagged Homeland Security with this little meeting. Hopefully, we were able to go undetected by any government agencies in case I put a bullet in these people’s heads—my family and friend not included.

  “Yema, this is Viktor Masterson, Tatkiv Masterson, and you remember my friend, Finn.”

  “Yes, yes…so nice to…meet you all.” He glances at each face, clearly not sincere in the slightest. He’s a snake, and we all know it. We just have to wait for the perfect time to chop off his head. “Sasha couldn’t come along?
Did you grow tired of the useless cunt already?”

  I have to grit my teeth not to bite his nose off from him calling her useless. If anyone deserves that description, it’s him.

  “I gave her to my father.” I shrug as if she was boring. Never mind the truth—that I fucking adore her and her fiery spirit and I want to cut this man in two.

  “Good, we have plenty others.”

  “Here?” Finn inserts himself in the conversation, most likely sensing the hostility coming from me in waves toward Yema Capelloni.

  “Yes, freshly picked this past weekend. If you’re wanting them broken in, you can select them, and we can get them to you at a later time.”

  It’s all so very professional. I roll my eyes. It makes me sick to hear him speak so flippantly about the lives of women. Good people, like Sasha no doubt, stolen away from their families and homes to be sold like cattle.

  Viktor clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Who do I speak to about large purchases and when can I see the product? My men deserve some compensation.”

  Yema’s gaze trains on my cousin, hearing his cold voice for the first time since we’ve arrived. Tate remains quiet as well—watching, waiting, and biding his time.

  “I can help you with them,” he replies, and Viktor snorts.

  “I don’t need help with anything. Fetch me your boss; I plan to spend a lot of money, and I don’t speak to underlings.”

  I damn near choke with laughter. The men stand solemn, but I see amusement dancing in Finn and Tate’s eyes at Viktor’s choice of words. He just put Yema in his place with one sentence. No beating around the bush and this is only one reason why Viktor runs the Bratva so effortlessly. All those years he worked to be squeaky clean, and the trouble he went through with his father has made him grow a spine like steel.

  “Come inside for a drink, and I’ll get the Don for you.” Yema nods, knowing Vik has him pegged for what he really is. Leave it to my cousin to make a man feel two inches tall with one sentence.

  We still haven’t found out who this infamous ‘Don’ is. My father has suspicions it’s the Franchetti family running everything—old Sicilian wealth and roots embedded in the sex smuggling business throughout the years. After being so deep in it himself, I have a feeling he’s most likely right. He’s an ass, but he’s a smart one when it comes to his business ventures.