by Zoe Blake
A large, tattooed man dressed all in black averted his eyes the moment I emerged from the bedroom into the living room area. In a heavy Russian accent, he said, “Sorry, Miss Prescott. Your breakfast is here. Should they bring it in?”
I cleared my throat and then choked out a “Yes, please.”
I wasn’t used to being addressed so formally. The hotel staff member wheeled a linen-covered cart into the room. He placed it before the windows. He then drew the curtains back, exposing a breathtaking view of the city. Next, he pulled the leather executive chair away from the desk and set it in front of the cart, facing the windows. He removed the silver cloches from several dishes. He then bowed. “Will there be anything else, Miss Prescott?”
“No, thank you.”
He bowed a second time. He quickly gathered all our plates from the night before onto a tray and quietly left. The guard closed the door without another word.
I slipped into the seat and surveyed the table. There was a steaming plate of Eggs Benedict with the poached eggs covered in a creamy lemony yellow hollandaise. There was another plate of pancakes with a thick pat of butter slowly melting on the top of the stack. A third plate was filled with scrambled eggs and hash browns and a fourth was piled high with crispy bacon and sausage links. Off to the side, there was a bowl of oatmeal with several smaller bowls filled with berries, nuts, and brown sugar, and a plate of every kind of toast imaginable. There were three silver carafes labeled coffee, decaffeinated, and tea and two glass carafes, one with orange juice and another with cranberry.
I shook my head. The insane man had ordered every item on the damn breakfast menu. I poured myself a cup a coffee and delighted in pouring the heavy cream from the tiny pitcher until it was a light tan. I then added sugar and took a sip, closing my eyes as I savored the rich taste of actual fresh-roasted coffee and not the freeze-dried instant stuff with powdered cream I usually drank. I picked up a fork and knife and sliced into the Eggs Benedict as I looked out over the Chicago skyline.
This whole scenario was surreal. I mean, was I really lounging in a lush hotel robe with a strand of expensive pearls around my throat, about to tuck into a room service breakfast? Who lived like this?
After I ate my fill, I took Ivan’s advice and ran a Jacuzzi bath. I stepped into the tub and slid down, letting the silky bubbles rise over my shoulders. I couldn’t help but feel like Julia Roberts from Pretty Woman. The only problem was I wasn’t a prostitute with a heart of gold willing to trade my body for money, and Ivan certainly wasn’t a charming but upstanding businessman.
I was the daughter of a murderer who just got her two uncles killed, and Ivan was an arms-dealing Russian crime boss. People like us didn’t get fairytale happy endings.
Chapter 23
Dylan
When my cell phone rang, I answered it immediately even though I didn’t recognize the number, just in case it was Ivan.
“Are you decent?” asked a woman’s voice.
“What?”
“Are you decent? We’ll be there in thirty.”
“Who is this?”
“Oh, my God, sorry! It’s Mary. We met yesterday. I’m coming over to your hotel with Emma. Ivan said you’d probably be bored to tears and want company. Well, actually he said you’d probably be bored to tears and get yourself into trouble by trying to leave, but why split hairs.”
It was hard keeping up with Mary’s rapid-fire, energetic way of talking, but I was excited for the company. “Sure. Come on over.”
“See you in half an hour.”
I had been determined not to wear any of the clothes Ivan had purchased and just to spend the day in my robe as a small sign of rebellion, but knowing Mary was coming over with her friend, I changed my mind. Walking over to the rack, I ran my hand over the various garment bags before choosing the Prada one. Inside I found a black pleated poplin skirt and a slim-fit superfine wool charcoal gray turtleneck. Realizing I needed underwear, I searched the stacks of boxes and selected one labeled Agent Provocateur. Inside was a bra and panty set. My mouth dropped open when I held up the hot pink mesh bra with the sequined hearts over the nipples. I opened several more lingerie boxes, but it was just more of the same. Lots of leopard print, black lace, and thongs. I had to admit the man had beautiful, if racy, taste in lingerie.
Knowing I was almost out of time, I slipped on the hot pink thong and bra and then stepped into the skirt. As I pulled the turtleneck over my head, I couldn’t help but be a little annoyed at how perfectly everything fit. It was infuriating how Ivan was so thorough and efficient. Walking into the bedroom, I selected two strands of the ivory pearls and wrapped them around my throat several times before adjusting the lengths to fall in a gentle cascade down my front.
Reaching into my purse, I grabbed my makeup bag and did my best to cover the black eye with pressed powder. I added a black cat eye with mascara and topped off the look with some cherry lip gloss just as there was a knock on the hotel door.
Once again, the guard opened the door and announced Mary and Emma’s arrival. Mary burst through the door looking like a 1950s pinup model. She was wearing a lipstick red dress, the kind that had the crinoline, with an embroidered black poodle with a sequin collar on the skirt. It surprised me to realize her friend Emma was very pregnant. She was in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with Shakespeare wearing a pair of sunglasses, under a cute black blazer. They both looked like the stylish fun type of friends that were usually seen on a sitcom. Before I could introduce myself to Emma, a third person walked through the door.
“Carinna!” I screamed as I launched myself at her.
She hugged me tight. I broke our hug and took a step back to survey her for any signs of injury, then grabbed her to me and hugged her again. “Oh, my God, I was so worried.”
When we finally broke free a second time, her eyes widened when she saw my black eye. “Did Ivan do that?”
“No! No, it was my uncle Frank.”
“I’ll kill him.”
Mary chimed in as she flounced down on the sofa, “Too late. Ivan already took care of that.”
Carinna exchanged a look with me. I leaned in and whispered, “I’ll tell you later.”
Emma lowered herself into the nearest upholstered chair. “I’m starving. Mary, when is the food coming?”
Before Mary could answer, there was a second knock on the door. The guard opened it. “Room service is here.”
“Voila!” said Mary as she popped up to greet the hotel staff member. “I ordered from their afternoon tea menu.”
The room service attendant wheeled in a cart with several three-tiered silver trays filled with tiny sandwiches and little cakes and cookies. There were also several pots of tea and what looked like a basket of mini muffins. What the hell? Did everyone order a small feast off this menu?
Emma and Mary poured cups of tea as Carinna headed over to the racks of clothes. “Shut. Up. Dylan, are these all yours?”
“No,” I said as Mary and Emma both said, “Yes.”
I turned to look at them. They both looked slightly abashed.
Mary spoke first. “Don’t be mad. Ivan texted and asked what I thought your size was and what clothes you’d like.”
Emma added, “Then Mary brought me in on a group chat and… well… we may have gone a little overboard with our suggestions.”
“A little?” I asked incredulously. “Do you see all the clothes that man bought?”
Emma shrugged. “How were we supposed to know he’d buy everything we mentioned?”
Mary selected a bright green macaroon from the tray. “Although in all fairness, knowing how our men go overboard, we probably should have known.”
Carinna unzipped the Gucci garment bag and rifled through the dresses. “Oh, sweetie. You need to keep this man and I’m not just saying that because we’re the same size.”
Emma picked up her teacup. “Let’s have a fashion show! I need to live vicariously.”
I waved my hands. “No. There
will be no fashion show. I’m not keeping any of these clothes or the jewels.”
Mary’s head snapped in my direction. “Jewels? What jewels? Oh! Did he give you those pearls?”
I reached for the strands. “Yes, but I’m not keeping them.”
Emma nodded sagely. “We understand.” She gestured to Mary. “We both tried to refuse extravagant jewelry gifts from our men early on too.”
That intrigued me. Hoping to get some tips on how to tell Ivan no in a way he would actually listen to, I leaned in. “What did they say when you gave the gifts back?”
Emma rolled up her sweater sleeve to expose an outrageously gorgeous diamond bracelet as Mary pulled her black cardigan sweater off to expose a diamond brooch in the shape of a panther.
Mary tilted her head to the side. “What do you think?”
I frowned. “Honestly, no offense to either of you, but I don’t know how you put up with these Russian men. They are so arrogant and bossy and demanding—”
Carinna cut me off. “And brutish and stubborn and demanding.”
“I already said demanding.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “It bore repeating.”
Mary lifted the basket of muffins and offered them to Carinna. She selected a blueberry one and tore into it with more aggression than was necessary for a small pastry.
Mary said, “I guess I don’t need to ask if you enjoyed your time with Maxim.”
Carinna scoffed. “The man is a terror. He should be locked up in a cage like a wild animal.”
I leaned over and touched her knee. “I’m so sorry. It was all my fault. I guess Ivan was worried about your safety after they found my apartment trashed.”
Mary patted me on the shoulder. “Hold on.” She looked at Carinna and raised an eyebrow. “And?”
Carinna blushed. “And what?”
Mary’s lips quirked. “And?”
Carinna huffed. “And… maybe… he’s also kind of charming in a rough-around-the-edges sort of way and a good kisser.”
Holy shit. Carinna had kissed Maxim? I would definitely have to get her alone to find out what the hell had happened to her last night.
Mary clapped. “I knew it!”
Emma shook her head. “Face it, ladies. It’s hard to resist a Russian man, especially when they growl at you in that sexy accent of theirs.”
I grabbed my cup of tea and took too large of a gulp, burning my tongue. “Well, I have every intention of resisting Ivan.”
Emma’s brow wrinkled. “Why? He seems like such a teddy bear.”
My mouth dropped. “A teddy bear? Have you met the man?”
How could anyone think my tall, tattooed, bearded, super villain Russian man was a teddy bear?
Wait, when did I start thinking of him as ‘mine’?
“Yeah, he brought McDonald’s to our house a few days ago. He seemed nice.”
Mary rolled her eyes. “You think everyone is nice.”
Emma winked and quoted Shakespeare. “The robbed that smiles, steals from the thief.”
I shook my head. “Isn’t that from Othello? The guy who kills his wife in a fit of jealousy?”
Emma frowned. “True, but the sentiment is the same.”
I pushed the yellow macaroon around my plate. “Doesn’t it bother you? The fact that they are criminals?”
Mary shrugged. “It did at first, but then you just start to see past that and start seeing them for the men they are despite it. They are fiercely loyal, and supportive, and caring. From what I’ve heard about your family, you had as crappy of a childhood as I did, so I can tell you, it’s nice knowing I have over six feet of raging muscle in my corner willing to fight for me and protect me.”
To see past their crimes to the men they are… Ivan asked the same thing of me last night.
I don’t know why I was even worried about all this. Despite what Ivan said, there was no way our relationship, if that was what I could call it, was going to last beyond a month-long fling anyway. Maybe they were right. It wasn’t like I was going to marry the guy and have his children. Maybe I should just stop second-guessing everything and have a little fun for once.
Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling I was playing with fire by giving in to Ivan. He was such a force, had such an energy. It was as if I stopped fighting him, he’d swallow me whole. I could see myself losing all sense of identity and perspective if I allowed myself to get pulled too deeply into his world. I mean, holy hell, the man killed my uncles yesterday, and I’d barely batted an eyelash. What did it say about me that I could be so cold-blooded and ruthless? Maybe Ivan appealed to the wrong side of my nature, the side I had desperately tried to run from all these years.
My phone on the desk vibrated. I jumped up to check it just in case it was Ivan.
It was a text from my aunt Susan, Frank’s wife.
We need to talk. Now.
I texted back.
There’s nothing to talk about.
I watched the three dots on my phone, waiting for her response. Did she know about Frank? Did she blame me?
There is if you don’t want the cops to find out about Englewood, came her response.
Fuck. Englewood. She would hold Englewood over my head forever. I looked at Mary, Emma, and Carinna, who all continued to chat.
Now is not a good time.
You have one hour. Meet me at Charlie’s.
Charlie’s was a rundown old bar in the Ukrainian Village that my uncle Frank liked to patronize. In fact, I remembered seeing him there more than any other place.
Fine. One hour.
Now I just needed to figure out how to end this little tea party and slip past the guard. It turned out to be easier than I thought it would be.
Emma yawned, and Mary immediately popped up. “Okay, I need to get you home.”
Emma protested, “No, I’m fine. Let’s stay a little longer.”
Mary shook her head. “No way. I promised Dimitri and he would have my head if he found out I exhausted you.”
Emma reluctantly agreed and stood. Carinna stood too.
“You’re not leaving as well?” I asked. As much as I needed to see my aunt, I really wanted to talk to Carinna.
She gave me a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. “No choice. My boss is pissed I missed my shift last night. If I no call no show today I’m out of a job. I’ll come by tomorrow. We’ll try on all these clothes you’re not keeping,” she said with an exaggerated wink.
As the girls gathered their things, I opened the door to motion the guard in. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”
He smiled. “It’s Peter.”
“Hi, Peter. Would you please escort my guests to their cars?”
Peter glanced from me to the girls, uncertain how to answer. It was clear he was torn between his orders to watch over me and his knowledge that Mary and Emma were the wife and fiancée of two equally powerful men.
To tip the scales, I added, “I’m sure Ivan would approve.”
He nodded. “Very well, ladies.”
We hugged and kissed and promised to meet up again soon. Carinna hugged me a second time and promised to swing by tomorrow so we could catch up on all the craziness that was happening to us both. It broke my heart I had dragged my best friend into the hot mess that was now my life. Maybe I could pawn one of the pearl necklaces Ivan gave me and give her the money to skip town?
That was a problem for tomorrow. For now, I had to meet with my aunt and find out what exactly she knew about Englewood and Uncle Frank’s and Harold’s deaths.
The moment they were gone I grabbed my purse and phone and headed for the door. Cursing, I turned back and crossed the room to the clothes rack. Flipping through the garment bags, I opened the heaviest looking one. Sure enough, it was a long, heather gray wool coat. I snatched it off its hanger and headed out the door.
Chapter 24
Dylan
Before stepping out of the cab, I took off my pearls and shoved them to the bott
om of my purse. This was not the kind of neighborhood to flash wealth in. Taking a deep breath, I opened the car door and stepped onto the curb. Tilting my head back, I surveyed the bar facade. Several mismatched pieces of plywood covered what would have been a grimy front window. There had probably been a fight. I wasn’t the least bit surprised, given the shady clientele.
Before I could take another step, a palm closed over my mouth. I clawed at the hand as an arm wrapped around my waist and dragged me backward. My heels dragged on the cement as I struggled and still tried to scream, but my captor was too strong. I was dragged around the corner of the bar into a filthy alley. The gray winter sky cast the narrow alley into deep shadow, and I was pulled past several overfilled dumpsters.
Once we were deep into the alley, I was released. I swung around, ready to kick and punch my way to freedom. My smarmy cousin Justin stood there next to my aunt Susan.
“What the fuck, Justin?”
He looked me over, stopping at my breasts. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it, cousin.”
My body shivered in revulsion. From the time I was only eight years old, I had learned not to be in a room alone with my cousin. There was something wrong with him. His twisted mind worsened the bigger and older he got.
My aunt Susan jabbed a bony finger into my shoulder. “Lower your voice. We don’t want anyone listening in on our business.”
I adjusted the belt of my coat, now even more grateful Ivan had purchased it for me. The thick wool gave me a slight layer of protection not just against the cold, but against Justin’s leering glare. “What do you want?”
Her lips twisted into a sneer. “We know it was you.”