Chapter 12

TWELVE

Hollis

The grand entrance of the mansion loomed before us, flanked by armed guards and extravagant decor. As we entered, the lavish surroundings did little to hide the lurking danger. Gunmen dressed in black stood guard outside the building, eyeing me with interest. The man from the warehouse, Rodriguez himself, welcomed us. His predatory gaze fixated on me, feeling like a physical assault.

As we took our seats, Rodriguez leaned in closer, his voice a low murmur. "You've outdone yourself, Dimitri. Look at what a gem." He looked me over as if I were cattle, which I supposed was what he considered me in his eyes.

"I only settle for the best," Dimitri replied smoothly, his hand resting possessively on my lower back as we moved through the house.

"Do you share?" Rodriguez asked, following a little too closely and breathing into my space.

Dimitri didn't stop, but his hand flexed on my back. "Don't be ludicrous. I don't share my toys." He shot Rodriguez a disparaging glare.

Rodriguez led us into a lavishly decorated dining room. A long table was set for dinner, and women, their eyes glazed and dull as if drugged, lounged along the sides of the walls on low couches. Their clothing was scant, straps hanging off their shoulders, bruises evident on their arms, a stark reminder of their vulnerability. A few glanced up as we came in, raking their eyes over my clean clothes and Dimitri's arm that held me close to him. I was suddenly well aware of how precarious my circumstances were, but guilt burned in my stomach for not being able to do anything to help them. It was obvious that some of them had been here for months, if not longer. Several were dressed in cocktail dresses and lounged, chatting with each other, smoking long cigarillos with their legs crossed delicately as if they were at some soiree instead of victims. They had leveraged their value somehow; they were freshly showered, and their clothes were new, jewels at their throats.

As we took our seats, I could feel eyes on me, assessing, judging. The women, in particular, cast envious eyes on Dimitri. He was a beautiful man, there was no doubt. He was nothing like any man I'd ever been remotely attracted to. Well, that was a lie. Dimitri was like a movie star, one of those villains you saw on the silver screen or in one of those cologne ads doing that man-spread in a fancy suit. He oozed sex appeal, but you could also sense that the closer you got to him, the closer you were to the flames. He'd burn you. I'd always had Olive to consider. Men like Dimitri were bad boys, indulgences that weren't in the single-mother line-up. Not in mine, at least.

I had to remember to play my part here, to be the woman Dimitri had bought and cowed. It was the only way to get through this. I settled my face in a dull look, keeping my eyes cast down.

Dimitri's hand settled gently but possessively on my thigh under the table, a silent reassurance of our roles. He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear as he whispered, "You're doing great, malysh ." His words, a balm to my frayed nerves, gave me the strength to continue.

I nodded slightly, focusing on the small comforts I could find: the soft murmur of conversations, the clinking of cutlery, and Dimitri's steady presence beside me. This was only one step in the plan for my route home to my little girl. I kept my eyes on the table and away from the other women.

As dinner progressed, Rodriguez focused on Dimitri, probing him about his business and intentions. "Your brother, the pakhan. How did you convince him about this enterprise?" Rodriguez asked. "I can't wait to hear this story. I'd been told that he'd been very set against it. "

"Miguel, I can call you Miguel, right?" Dimitri asked as he sipped his vodka. I'd already figured out that vodka was his favorite drink. He asked for the bottle right away. "Men are simple creatures, aren't we? Money, power, sex. That's what we like." He shrugged. "I just had to push the right buttons with my brother and make him understand that, in the end, that's what mattered." Dimitri waved a hand in the air. "He'd been confused by some silly sense of morality, but that wasn't necessary now, was it?"

Miguel laughed loudly, pounded the table, guffawed, snorted, and heaved. He was drunk by this point of the evening, not quite sloppy with it, but sauced, as my mother would have said. I couldn't help but stare at him; thankfully, he wasn't minding me. His whole attention was focused on Dimitri as if he'd discovered something unique.

"You," he pointed at Dimitri. "You! You're right!" He shouted, then turned to some of the women and pointed at them. "They're just objects to us. Money. Some people don't understand that. But you…" he wagged his finger. "You do!"

None of the women seemed to take offense or even look up to give him attention. I kept scanning the faces just in case I saw Beth. Not that there was anything I could do. The women continued to chat, drink, and even slump in sleep against the wall. Dimitri was not laughing or amused. He looked at Miguel with predatory interest, leaning forward toward him as if he were going to slit his throat right there at the table. "That's right, Miguel. I do understand exactly," he said in a silky voice.

Dimitri had been playing his part flawlessly, and his answers were smooth and calculated. I admired his ability to handle Rodriguez and keep this masquerade going. Our chairs were scooted close to each other, and I could feel the heat of his body through the sleeve of his suit coat. I wished I were closer to him. I hoped that the person Dimitri was looking for would show up so we could leave.

And then, as dessert was being served, the door to the dining room opened, and a man entered. My heart skipped a beat as Dimitri's hand tightened on my thigh. It was the man called Anton, whom Dimitri was looking for — Makarovich. The room seemed to hold its breath as he strode in, looking from Dimitri to me.

"Hey Miguel, sorry I'm late. Had something to handle." He spun his eyes to Dimitri. "So you're Maxim's brother, a Volkov? Are things cool? The Bratva is in? We're in?" he babbled.

Rodriguez slumped forward onto the table, leaning partly on an elbow and partly on one poor woman who had been unfortunate enough to be called to keep him company.

Makarovich was sweating, practically pouring off him and dripping down his forehead. I eyed him with distaste. He wasn't a heavy man, but he was balding and was trying desperately to hang onto whatever hair he had left. He had it combed back over his head, the thready strands sticking to the skin of his skull wetly.

"This one was in the warehouse," Makarovich said suddenly, his eyes pinpointing me. I'd been staring .

"She's not your concern," Dimitri's voice was flat. "Let's stick to business. Come here, baby." He pulled me over onto his lap so that I was sitting crosswise on his powerful thighs, one hand anchoring my hip to him.

"Of course," Makarovich said, but his eyes swung back to me again until I dropped mine to the melting bowl of sherbert. A servant swept the dessert away and brought forward a fresh plate of dinner for Makarovich.

"I am here on behalf of the Volkov Bratva. Maxim had a change of heart," Dimitri's voice was black silk. These men were absolute idiots not to realize that he was playing them.

"Excellent, excellent," Makarovich slid into a seat at the table, ignoring that Rodriguez was slumped unconscious. "I just thought a vacation was prudent." He pulled a wine carafe towards himself and poured a generous glass. "I'm so glad the pakhan has you to guide him."

Dimitri's lip curled in a sneer. "Just so," he said. "Well, this operation looks juicy for us." He made sure to include Makarovich in his global ‘us,' and Makarovich practically puffed up in front of us. I wanted to roll my eyes. "Tell us how it works."

"It's genius how low-key it is. It brings in way more money than I thought it would." Makarovich's eyes lit up. "Not as much as the auctions, but I had to drop those," he said regretfully. I wasn't sure what he was talking about, but Dimitri seemed to and nodded sagely.

"It appears to work well," Dimitri prompted, taking a sip of his Vodka, but I could tell what he wanted most was to hear exactly how they were doing it.

"There are bounty hunters that get paid for each drop, and they set up a time at the clinic," Makarovich couldn't help but preen. "We have them examined," he gave me a little glance at this. "It's essential that they aren't damaged too much in transit. That was a problem a few years ago. The product was worthless once it got here."

"So you have them checked at this clinic," Dimitri took another sip of his vodka, looking over at Luka.

I breathed deeply and tried not to think of Gregor and the doctor. The finger between my legs, their cocks in my mouths. Dimitri's hand stroked my knee gently through the fabric of my dress. Blue. What was blue? The ocean was blue, and whales and the sky were blue. I tried hard not to vomit.

"Yes, once they're cleared, they're brought to the warehouse and sold. They are sold individually and sometimes auctioned if they're of good quality. Or if we can't get a sale, they go to the brothels, and they'll earn coin there, which we get in perpetuity. It's a good racket."

As he finished his food, Makarovich leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. "I must say, Dimitri, you have excellent taste. She is exquisite."

"Thank you," Dimitri replied, his voice calm. "I knew you would appreciate her." His hand tightened on my thigh .

His eyes gleamed with something dark and twisted. "Perhaps I could share in your good fortune."

My heart skipped a beat, but I kept my expression neutral. Dimitri had already proved that he wouldn't let anything happen. I just needed to stay calm. His grip on my thigh tightened slightly, a subtle warning.

"I'm afraid she is quite exclusive," Dimitri said smoothly. "But perhaps another engagement."

Makarovich chuckled, but there was an edge to his laughter. "Very well, there's always another girl that comes along." His greasy eyes still uncomfortably loitered on me.

The evening dragged on, every minute feeling like an eternity. Finally, Dimitri stood, pulling me with him. "It's time that we take our leave. Anton, please give my appreciation to Miguel for his hospitality. "

We made our way back to the car, the weight of the evening pressing down on me. As soon as we were inside, I let out a shaky breath, my hands trembling.

"You did well. Very well, malysh ," Dimitri said, his voice softening. "We got what we needed."

"What now?" I asked, trying to steady myself. It couldn't be this simple, right?

"Now, we plan our next move," he replied, his gaze intense. "You just have to stay strong a little longer."

I nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the fear. I had to see this through for Olive and all the victims of these monsters. I had to be strong, no matter what it took.

Dimitri guided me through the lobby and to our suite as we arrived. I felt exhausted down to my bones. The facade I'd held all evening suddenly became brittle and too much to bear. Once inside, I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, the weight of the charade finally lifting off my shoulders.

Dimitri's eyes softened as he looked at me. "You did incredibly well tonight, Hollis. I know this isn't easy."

I nodded, my voice barely a whisper. "Thank you. I just kept thinking about Olive. She's what's keeping me going."

He reached out, gently squeezing my shoulder. "You'll be back with your daughter soon."

I wanted to believe him, to cling to that hope. "What's our next step?"

"We need to know where Makarovich lives and where he goes," Dimitri explained. "Tonight, we observed and built trust. Now, we have to dig deeper. Rodriguez and Makarovich will eventually slip up; we'll be ready when they do. Maybe another day at most. Luka will be following and watching. And I want that clinic. "

I nodded, determined to see this through. "I'm with you."

Dimitri's gaze lingered on me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he stepped back. "Get some rest. You've earned it."

I nodded and headed to the bedroom, closing the door and locking it behind me. As I changed out of the dress and into something more comfortable, I couldn't help but reflect on the evening. Listening to men talk about women as nothing more than a commodity had shed light on a dark corner of a world I knew nothing about. I had never honestly considered myself naive until today. I knew that bad things happened and had even thought myself prepared for them. I carried mace in my purse and walked with my keys in my hand. Even after the kidnapping, even after being put on my knees … today was the day I lost my innocence. There were monsters out there.

I climbed into bed, exhaustion finally catching up with me. My thoughts drifted to Olive, and I whispered a silent promise to her. I would do whatever it took to get back to her, to keep her safe. I'd find a way.