Chapter Eight: Andrei

Twiddling my thumbs and playing cards in this bullshit cell is a good enough way to pass the time, but I’m done with it now. My lawyer, Bennett Cleary, is standing on the inside of my cell reminding me of what I already knew to be true.

“You’re going to be out of here in a couple of days. They just have to make it look like they’re covering their tracks and doing a thorough investigation. You know the drill.”

Smirking, I unhinge some caked-up dirt from underneath my fingernail. “I knew that already. Who got in your way?” I ask him, immediately thinking about ways to have the meddling Officer Williams moved to a different jurisdiction.

“A few people, but all of them are gunning for something or other. The district attorney, mayor… that type of thing. You know how it goes,” he tells me.

“I do know, but that little shit Williams is getting on my last nerve. We got anything on him?”

My lawyer sneaks a look around the cell. It’s not a normal cell. I get star treatment here. I have a good relationship with the prison guards and the chef. They smuggle in the good stuff. I’ve got a TV, my phone, and connections to the outside world, so it’s more like a restful stay for me.

“Yeah, I’m working on it,” Bennett remarks.

“Work harder or—”

“No. Shut up. Respectfully. Walls have ears. Haven’t you got that research thing you’re doing now?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” I tell him, standing up. “Something to kill the time. I might as well. It will be interesting to see how the other side thinks about things. I might learn something while I’m in here, who knows.” I give him a cool shrug, smoothing down the khaki prison costume I’ve been made to wear. I much prefer black, but it beats the orange jumpsuit that some other states have to wear.

“You might. Good luck. I’ll be in touch.”

“Good. See you, Bennett.”

He walks away, and one of the prison guards comes to collect me. “Ready to go?”

“Sure am. Lead the way.”

The guard doesn’t bother to walk behind me. He walks in front because I know him, and I’m paying him a nice little monthly bonus to be friendly on the inside. Besides he’s got a daughter that needs her college tuition paid for.

And when I enter the questioning room, I’m so glad I did sign up for the research project because the woman behind the door with the questions is just the one I want to see….

“Hello, Sophia. We have to stop meeting in strange places. Nice to see you again.”

I watch her little mouth fall open, aghast, her plump cheeks flushing crimson. Amused and shocked that she’s here, I grin, raising an eyebrow at her professional attire.

This is a completely different woman I’m looking at. Nothing like the innocent, carefree, plain-Jane photo I had on my office desk. Oh no, this one looks about five to ten years older with smoothed-back hair in a low ponytail and nude lipstick. Her freckles are nowhere to be found, and she’s wearing a charcoal pencil skirt with a white, crisp, fitted-collar shirt and a matching vest over the top of it. Her tortoiseshell glasses hide her stunning emerald eyes, but all I want to do is grab her around the waist and kiss her.

She’s thinking about what I did to her. That blush isn’t coming from nowhere. Oh yes. I’m thinking about you too. Her reactions are funny to me, and this is just the type of entertainment I need in here.

“Um, thank you, Officer. You can leave us now. I’ll call you when I’m done,” Sophia says, addressing the prison guard and not me. When she finally does, she puts on a cold front that I see right through.

“Hello, Andrei. Thank you for taking the time to join me today. It’s much appreciated. Please take a seat,” she offers, gesturing to the chair tucked under the table in front of us.

Okay. So, this is the game we’re playing. One where we don’t know one another.

“Sorry. I didn’t catch your name?”

“Ah yes. Sorry. I didn’t have enough time to put my name tag on. My name is Sophia Hearst. Dr. Perri had to leave for a family emergency, unfortunately, so I’m going to be conducting the interview on her behalf.”

“Oh, that’s alright. I think I would much prefer talking to you than Dr. Perri,” I pitch back silkily, my cock twinging inside my pants. This is a cute little game we’re playing and now I’m definitely interested in the questions that are going to be asked.

“Water, Miss Hearst?” I ask, wanting to rattle her cage a little bit as I pour myself one and the blushing beauty coughs.

“No thanks. I already had a water earlier.”

“Good, good. I wouldn’t want you to get dehydrated. Not like the last time we encountered each other.” Grinning at her wolfishly, I watch as her shoulders stiffen. Gotcha, Ms. Hearst.

“Thank you. I’m going to start with placing this tape recorder on record and that will start the interview. Are you okay with this?” Prickly and under duress, her bottom lip quivers as she carefully sets down the recorder.

“Yes, of course. That’s what I came here for. Go ahead.” I sit back in my chair, flicking out my tongue, reminding her of the apparatus I used so expertly on her. She frowns, her face reddening.

“Alright.” Her eyes harden as she clicks the recorder on, picking up her pencil, and opening a manila folder. Case notes. They must be my file notes. Nice and thick. I’m impressed. They’ve got some serious information on me.

“Let’s start with your full name and where you were born.”

Smirking, I crick my neck, rubbing at the base, cutting my eyes at her. “Andrei Utkin, and I’m from a little town just outside of Moscow. You wouldn’t know it. Have you ever traveled outside of United States, Sophia?” I probe, her cheeks bloom with that red glow I like.

“No, but can you tell me what the town is called, please?” she asks tersely.

Chuckling, I nod at her. “Okay. Ms. Hearst. Uglich.”

She scribbles the town down furiously, ticking a box as I peer over her hand to see. Drawing back, she senses how close I’m getting. Perfect. She’s uncomfortable.

“When were you born?” she asks, her voice even.

“Ah, I’m thirty-nine, but I don’t see why this should be an issue between us,” I answer, rocking the boat with a wide grin. “We have history now.”

“I don’t know what you mean, but thanks,” she quips, launching into the next question.

“Are you part of a Bratva organization?”

“Are you dating anybody?” I lean forward as Sophia’s eyes dart around for a second as if she’s looking for someone to find us out.

“They’re not looking in here. Trust me. I should know.” Grinning at her, she continues, clearly shaken.

“If you could stick to answering the questions, that would great.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll try not to fuck it up. I was born in 1985. How about you?”

“Born 2002.”

“Wow. You look good in your lawyer uniform. Sexy.” Winking and in full control, I lean back in my chair again as she battles to composes herself.

She ignores my compliment fast-forwarding into her barrage of research questions. “When did you come to United States?”

“When my father moved here in 2000. You wouldn’t have even been born then, sweetheart.”

“Is your father still alive?”

“Hmm, I get it’s for research. You know he’s not alive. He was murdered by some thieving pricks. Yours isn’t either. We’ve both got our pain points,” I deliver in a chilling tone, my cold eyes boring into hers.

“Did you have any other support networks around you at the time?” Her voice is receding into meekness, but I want her to play because I’m just getting started.

“Yes, thankfully. My cousins, brother, uncles and others who arrived at the same time we did.”

“I see. Did you all come to United States with a goal in mind? Why Chicago?”

I can see where she’s digging, and it’s starting to become interesting for me. “Yes. To build a better life like everyone else. Russia at the time was a desolate, cold place to survive, but it gave me the tools to be able to make it here.”

“That’s funny.”

“Not so much. But what is, is that you know my family already. Fiona ring a bell?” This changes her demeanor. Her back straightens, her scribbling stopping as she ends the recording and speaks to me directly.

“Can you stop it? This is my future you’re playing around with.” She’s flustered, her face matching her hair. I shake my head.

“I’m having a hard time concentrating because you’re like a beautiful chameleon, and I want to pick up where we left off.”

She turns the recorder back on. “Why did your family pick Chicago and not any other city?”

“Because it’s a place where my family had carved out a lane for themselves already. If it’s not broken, why fix it?”

“Are you part of a national crime syndicate?”

“Depends on what you call a crime. I’m innocent until proven guilty.”

“You have a rap sheet a mile long and another inmate has advised the Utkins are the top crime family in Chicago currently. What do you have to say about this?”

“I would say that guy’s a filthy snitch, but I will say, the Utkin family are powerful. And yes, I am a boss in my own right. You look like you could boss me around in that skirt. All you need is a whip.”

“Can you please focus on the questions?” She’s close to shouting as I dig harder under her skin.

“Alright. I’ll do my best,” I concede, planning on not doing any of what she’s asking.

“Why are you in jail today, Andrei?”

“Murder.”

“Are you guilty? You were seen on CCTV entering the warehouse with a group of others. Were they your team?”

“Yes. That was my team, and yes, I entered the fucking warehouse. That doesn’t mean I killed the guy. We’ve shipped goods out of that warehouse many times.”

“What types of goods?”

“Do you like Destiny Bar? Is that where I can find you again? Maybe we could go out for dinner next time? Get to know each other a little better.”

“Stop it!” Sophia breaks, her hands shaking as I grin at her. I’ve got her right where I want her.

“That’s not what you said to me last week on your couch, Sophia. In fact, you were begging me to do more. Weren’t you?” I whisper, tapping my finger on the table.

She shuts off the recorder. “Your criminal activities are a huge turn-off, and I never would have slept with you if I knew what you’ve done!” Her face is straight and stern as she relays the information.

“Seems like you’ve made your assessment already without knowing me, but you’re on the money. I am part of Bratva, it’s a brotherhood. Yes, we have some different activities going on in the business, but you’re very na?ve to think this world is full of do-gooders.”

“You did all these things? The drug smuggling, the gun trafficking to the military? The aiding and abetting of criminals?” she questions, breaking her calm disposition.

“Worse,” I reply with a hoarse tone, opening her up to the dark side since she’s stupid enough to reject me. “You shouldn’t have come here, Sophia. You don’t want to know who I really am underneath, and you’re very, very vulnerable, Sirota.”

“What did you call me?”

Chuckling, I lean back again, straightening out my leg. “Orphan girl. You’ve got a long way to go before you can become a lawyer. It’s a tough profession full of snakes.” Slapping at the table, I watch her stoic face remain intact. She doesn’t budge, and it only serves to tickle my fancy further.

Maybe she’s stronger than I’ve given her credit for. “I think I’m doing just fine.” Again, she holds her ground.

Well, well. I’ve got a challenge on my hands. I take it one step further. “Let me tell you, Sophia. You don’t want to make an enemy out of me. It will be your worst mistake,” I promise. She rises to her feet, stretching down her skirt, the full length of her body arousing me. Now I wish the interview would continue.

She knocks on the door, speaking to the officer just on the outside of it. “You can take him now. We’re done here.”

Getting up, with a tight burning sensation in my chest, I stare at her one last time, meeting her glare with an arrogant smirk eclipsing my face. “Until next time, Sophia.”

Not so innocent. Na?ve, yes. But strong. She is as captivating as when I first met her.