Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

C hantel

Subways.

It was one part about New York I loathed. I'd had a lovely little red sports car while living at home. Now I had an apartment with paper-thin walls and neighbors who screamed all the time.

I was going to work very hard to get out of the slum.

But I had to remind myself it was all mine.

A fresh start. A job that I'd secured.

I settled into the seat, smart enough to hold my things very close. At least my cousin had been kind enough to purchase and load groceries into the old refrigerator. That meant I wouldn't starve until I received my first paycheck. Sure, I knew Papa had added money to my measly bank account, but I was determined to make money on my own, using his as emergency only.

I tried to think about anything else as the train continued heading toward my station, or at least I prayed it was. Unfortunately, just like before, my thoughts always landed on Nikolay.

I'd fucked him.

I'd enjoyed fucking him.

I wanted to fuck him again.

Oh, I was such a very bad girl.

I'd stopped thinking of him as my uncle or I'd go mad. He really wasn't and I didn't even know him any longer and he didn't know me. We were nothing but familiar strangers.

And God, the man was sexy as all get out. I'd spent way too much time fantasizing about him as I'd cleaned my apartment the day before, trying to make it mine.

His chiseled face.

His marvelous muscles.

His extremely tall body. I hadn't remembered he was that tall but back then, all men had been huge in comparison to me. I hadn't grown until I hit fifteen or so.

And he wouldn't know that.

I couldn't help myself, envisioning his body without the exquisitely tailored suit.

Thank God, my stop was on its final approach. I was way early but the last thing I wanted to do was to be late on my first day. That certainly wouldn't bode well for my plans for the future.

When the subway train came to a stop it was more jarring than I'd thought it would be, passengers rushing toward the doors in a mad crush. I wasn't certain I could get used to this. Lordy.

But I managed to get off and stood for a few seconds trying to get my bearings. It was so interesting, the difference in LA and New York. I'd been to downtown LA, although there were portions of the city that had been taken over by gangs, my father refusing to allow me inside them. Anyone who was rich stayed around Beverly Hills and a few other high-end communities. In New York, the heart of so much was smack in the middle of a busy downtown.

The energy was insane.

The electric mix of people entirely different.

And I had butterflies in my stomach.

I shored my shoulders and walked the two blocks to the building where I now worked. When I walked inside, the fresh look of marble everywhere was a reminder I was somebody. Somebody important.

Look out, world. I was going to make it big-time.

"I can't stay on the phone long. I have additional paperwork to fill out," I said in a hushed voice. My cubicle was in a busy area in the office, but the women around me were like vultures, ready to pick apart the new girl. Especially when they found out I was from LA.

Sonya laughed. "Working girl. I am taking you to lunch today. Period. You do get lunch, right? Or are you working at a sweat shop?"

"Very funny. Yes, I get lunch."

"I'll be outside your building at noon. There's a fabulous deli less than a block away. Okay? My treat."

"O-kay but we'll need to hurry."

She laughed again before ending the call. I checked my watch, a Rolex my father had given me when I'd graduated college. I'd seen the other women staring at it. They were smart enough to know it was costly. Maybe I should have worn my old favorite from when I was a teenager, a colorful Swatch.

The office manager, Betsy, suddenly appeared at the cramped desk. "There is a floor-wide meeting in ten minutes. Trust me, it won't last long and you can enjoy your lunch. Mr. Davenport is quick to highlight his information on what he calls enemies in the business. That's just a brazen way to say he refuses to allow our competition to kick our asses."

She'd been exceptionally nice to me, so much so I wasn't certain if her saccharin sweet crap was nothing more than a game to get points with the boss.

"Whew. Okay. Where?"

"Believe it or not, there's a small auditorium-style room on the floor below. You'll find it." She smiled and was prepared to walk away when she glanced at the women in close proximity, leaning over. "Don't allow his gruffness to be too off-putting. But never, ever get in his crosshairs. If you do, he'll make your life miserable. At least you're his type."

"His type?"

She lifted a single eyebrow. "Sadly, I think you're going to find out."

I couldn't catch her before she walked away. What was she getting at? Yes, the man had a rather brutal reputation in the industry, but his type? A cold shiver trickled down my spine. Nope. I wasn't going to partake in whatever fear she obviously had.

Ten minutes later, I followed the trail of women down to the auditorium. It was really a glorified conference room the size of a high school auditorium, but much better equipped with a beverage station, media works all around the room, and amazing lighting.

However, most of the people sat as far back from the stage as possible. By the time I slid into the space, it was standing room only near the front. Shit. I only hoped he wouldn't notice me. That wasn't my intent.

I did my best to be a wall fly and only three minutes later, the lights lowered and a few bars of the Rocky theme belted out in the expansive room. Was the man kidding me? I also had heard how arrogant he was, but good God. I did my best not to laugh, covering my mouth.

When the lights shifted back to where they'd been before, I realized I was only fifteen feet from the most arrogant-looking man I'd ever seen in my life. And I was a damn good judge of character. My father had honed my observation skills. He'd grilled me over the years because he'd said that if I knew my opponent cold, I'd never be caught being kidnapped or worse. I sized Davenport up in a dead ass heartbeat.

Tiny cock.

Making up for it with arrogance.

A man who thought his shit didn't stink.

A man who believed he could have any woman he wanted.

Someone you wouldn't want to be caught in a darkened space with.

And a big scaredy cat. When push came to shove, he'd back down.

Hmmm…

He started talking about profits and whoever Weaver Technology was, acting as if the other company was terrible. If I had to guess, I'd say our firm had been turned down for use as their main advertising firm.

Something the man said sparked my funny bone and God help me, I laughed, unable to slap my hand across my mouth in time. You would have thought I'd broken into a high-end jewelry store. A spotlight immediately shone on me as if done by the police.

The entire audience gasped at my faux pas.

And the man that already made my skin crawl snapped his head in my direction so fast I was certain his neck would break.

He studied me in the harsh lighting, sucking in his breath. As he lowered his gaze slowly, there was no doubt in my mind he was undressing me with his eyes. I needed a shower. No, I needed a bully stick so I could punch the man in the gut.

Down, girl. Down.

There was no noise in the room as he started walking toward me. All I heard at one point was my rapidly beating heart and a single person daring to go, "Uh-oh."

When he was suddenly right there in front of my face, it was all I could do not to punch him hard given the way he was leering at me.

It was so weird to me that everyone inside the big room seemed to be holding their breath and slinking back, doing their best not to be noticed by the powerful man…

Perhaps by other's standards he would be handsome. Slicked-back black hair. A very nice suit. Dark eyes. But for me, he was nothing more than an older pretty boy on steroids.

I did what my father had taught me to do. Stand up tall. Look the man directly in the eye. And even smile. I could tell he was doing his best to intimidate me. It wasn't going to work.

As he came closer, I almost developed a bored expression on my face. I could tell he was annoyed.

When he was only maybe three inches from me, far too close for a typical boss and employee, he cocked his head. The second onceover was even more provocative and I had to fight to keep from visibly shivering.

"Perfect. Absolutely perfect." The odd words seemed to indicate he'd found his next… victim? Love interest? I wasn't certain but if he thought I'd sleep around to jump ahead, he was dead wrong.

He went on with the meeting, which was brief, and I did nothing more than breathe a sigh of relief, realizing most of the employees were staring at me.

Fuck them.

"He said what?" Sonya was close to becoming hysterical and pissed off. She was a rough around the edges girl complete with tattoos, a nose ring, and wild pink hair. As an artist working in Soho, she could be anything she wanted to be.

Lucky girl.

I chewed and swallowed my pastrami sandwich, likely the best one I'd ever had in my life. The deli was a fabulous choice. "No lie. Plus, he was so creepy when he undressed me with his eyes."

"I would have kicked him in the balls."

I wagged my finger at her. "Not typically the best behavior for the first day of your new job."

She shrugged, dipping her French dip until the bread was soggy. She was dressed in all black, combat boots accompanying her pink hair. At least she was doing what she loved, living like a Bohemian. I'd considered living with her but from the pictures she'd sent a couple of months before, it appeared she'd come close to living in a commune.

No, thank you.

I needed my space and privacy.

"You need to be very careful and set boundaries early on or these assholes will walk all over you." Sonya gave me a hard look, stuffing a handful of potato chips into her mouth.

"Yeah, well, I'll see how it goes. I think staying away from him is in my best interest."

She nodded, juice dripping from her mouth. A free spirit through and through. "How's the apartment other than cramped, with thin walls, and probably smelling like Indian food, unlike the posh mansion you grew up in?"

"That about sums it up."

"I bet in six months you'll be living in a penthouse."

"I don't know about that." I checked my watch and she groaned. It was time to finish up. Forty-five minutes went fast.

"Let me offer you a real piece of advice. Lose the watch. Make a hiding place. You're asking to be mugged on the subway or walking to your sleazy apartment."

She had a point, but I almost choked at her calling it sleazy. Although it was. It was a good thing my father hadn't insisted on seeing it or I'd be on a damn plane back home with them.

"Good point. I'll do that."

"I don't think I need to tell you to keep a low profile," Sonya said, her face more somber.

"What does that mean?"

She shrugged and I was ready to pop her. "Just that it's good you're using Auntie's maiden name."

"Why?"

"Because your father isn't well liked in New York. I don't know whose feathers he ruffled but the chatter I've heard the last couple of months isn't good."

"Any specifics?" I pushed.

"Nothing really other than certain people are aware he has a strong connection to the Bratva here. And they aren't liked either."

I knew my cousin ran with some fairly seedy people, but really? "And how do you know this?"

"I run with certain clubs, girl. You know that. Party hardy. Just be careful. You don't need any further complications than that pig of a boss you have."

I shook my head. My father was both respected and feared, something I'd always known. What she was telling me shouldn't be real news, but I had a sense she knew more than she wanted to tell me. We weren't that close and her life was far removed from mine, but her words still surprised me. "Thanks for the warning."

"Yeah, I thought you should know. Now, what about this party you went to? Any cute men?" She was grinning seductively.

Vivid, very provocative images floated into the front of my mind. I couldn't believe how much I wanted Nikolay. It was ridiculous.

Some would call it disgusting.

"Maybe. But it's not something I can do anything about."

Now she wagged her finger. "Never say never, girlie."

From her mouth to God's ears.

Three locks. Three.

Yes, my father's house had been extremely secure, complete with soldiers walking the expansive perimeter, but this felt more… prison like. Just walking up the stairs, hearing nasty arguments on one side then the other was enough to give me a headache.

I lived on the third floor, right in the front, which I preferred. There was a fire escape near my bedroom window, which provided all kinds of terrifying thoughts on the thrillers I'd seen for years. However, it was a quick escape if necessary. Right?

I rolled my eyes as I unlocked the last of the aging locks, sliding inside after glancing over my shoulder. Once inside, the locks were reengaged.

Exhaling, I quickly moved into my bedroom to change clothes. About the only good thing I could say about the rest of the day was that Mr. Davenport had gone to several afternoon meetings. Several of the girls had warned me to lay low. They'd also told me the man not only had a powerful family but friends as well.

As if that would scare me.

Thankfully, none of them had picked up who I was given the last name I was using. I had to be thankful for something.

Once in jeans and a sexy little sweater I adored, I headed for my already open bottle of wine and my favorite snack: Nacho Doritos. I deserved junk food after the day I'd experienced. I sat down on the olive-green couch, turning on the ancient television. The reception waned, but all I needed was noise.

After putting my feet up on the scratched coffee table, I took a gulp of wine, toasting myself for getting through the day. However, for all the bravado I'd shown, the testy conversations with my father where I'd insisted on living my life my way, I had to admit this wasn't exactly what I'd hoped for. A moment of melancholy slipped in and I tried to ignore it.

I reminded myself of that maybe ten times, although each time it seemed to fail more. As I sighed, a series of loud horns outside was followed by a horrific sounding crash. I wasn't unlike every other voyeur in the world, gravitating toward the two big windows overlooking the street. While I couldn't see anything, I remained where I was, scanning the street. It was already dark, the two streetlights providing limited light. Various hole in the wall restaurants and businesses dotted the other side of the street, the scent of Indian food making my stomach rumble. Sadly, there wouldn't be any dinners out, as cheap as some of the food could be in the city. It was impossible not to feel a series of emotions, including hope.

Life had a way of working itself out.

I was about to turn back to my goodies when something caught my eye. It appeared to be someone standing directly in front of the closest streetlight, likely a male given the person's broad shoulders. I wouldn't think anything about it except for one thing.

He was staring up at the building and directly at my window. My vision was damn good and I could swear the man was staring at me. I was shocked as well as mesmerized, doing my best not to feel terror. Why should I? The street was filled with people coming and going, heading into the restaurants and a few hailing taxis.

But an icy chill shifted down my spine. My instincts were never wrong.

He was studying me.

Watching me.

And for the first time, I realized how lucky I'd been to have built-in security.

A lump formed in my throat, Sonya's warning filtering into the front of my mind. Was it possible my true identity had been discovered and someone wanted revenge? Oh, lord. Maybe I'd been watching too many thrillers. Sonya was many things, including dramatic. Even my mother, her aunt had warned me.

Still, the timing couldn't be any worse at this point. I would need to grill the woman when I saw her again both so I could mention it to my father and so I could move on.

I shifted to the edge of the window, turning to face my apartment as I tried to catch my breath. Suddenly, I was furious with myself. I was going to allow some jerk who likely followed me from the subway since I'd been stupid enough to wear the Rolex scare me? Not a fucking chance. I was a big girl trained in weaponry, martial arts, and other police techniques.

Hissing, I jumped in front of the window again, ready to give him attitude.

Only he, if it had been a he at all, had disappeared.

I needed more wine.