Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

N ikolay

Hiring a nanny.

All I could say was ugh and I needed a stiff drink.

It was barely eleven in the morning and I'd interviewed three already.

They'd all sucked.

Okay, maybe I shouldn't be thinking that way, but one had been about eighty years old and seemingly very sweet, but she'd carried a cane and dared tell me using it could cure all.

Really?

Another had been timid, so fearful when Damien had almost thrown a tantrum, I'd asked her to leave.

And the third? I wasn't into blue and green hair or dozens of piercings. The girl had smacked her gum the entire time, telling me she was normally paid four thousand a month plus provided room and board.

How could I forget? Also, a car that she was allowed to keep if things didn't work out.

I was very good at weeding out candidates who were floating lies and bullshit.

But Jesus Christ, I was stressed out of my mind at this point. I'd even talked to two on the phone and it had taken all I had not to slam down the phone.

After checking my watch, I realized the fourth candidate was ten minutes late already. That didn't bode well either.

I'd talked to an agency as well, but with my son being listed as autistic, which I didn't believe for a second, nanny candidates were few and far between.

"Sir." Amanda walked into the room.

I turned my head, studying the very conservative woman who looked older than her years. She'd been a very good nanny, staying longer than most but I understood my son could take a toll on the strongest of resolves. What I'd tried to relay to each and every person who'd worked for me was that he could pinpoint weakness or fear with the best of them.

If Damien believed for a second someone was even a little bit afraid of him, he made it his life's mission to drive the person into misery. The kid was actually brilliant, knowing exactly what he was doing. I sensed it.

"Yes, Amanda?" I was exasperated enough that I moved to the edge of my desk and sat down. I don't think any aspect of my business had exhausted me so much.

"I know you're having a difficult time finding someone and I wish I could stay a little longer, but I accepted another position. But I do have as suggestion, even for the short term."

"I'll listen to any suggestions at this point." I folded my arms, trying to figure out what she might suggest.

"There's a facility not too far from here. Hear me out. It's a beautiful place. I checked it out and brought you a couple brochures. Their website is on them so you can take a better look at what they offer but they have specialized doctors, their facility more like a beautiful live-in school in the rolling hills. Lots of nature. A lake. Streams. They do all kinds of activities. He could have his own room. Round the clock care."

While there was no reason for me to become angry with her, her heart in the right place, I bristled nonetheless.

She walked closer, the poor girl immediately realizing she'd struck a chord. As she handed me the pamphlets, it was all I could do not to snap them from her hand.

"I appreciate the suggestion. At this point, I'm just not certain what I'm going to do."

"I understand, sir. It was a thought. He's a very bright child, just in need of the right touch, I think."

I believed her and the ache in my heart made the heaviness and the guilt feel overwhelming at times. I'd tried to find his mother, but she'd disappeared somewhere in Europe, which meant she'd wanted to be impossible to find. My baby boy deserved the best of everything and I was determined to give it to him.

Damn it.

"I completely agree with you, Amanda. I'll take a look."

"Okay, sir."

As soon as she walked out of the room, I flipped through the glossy brochure, my stomach immediately in knots. She wasn't fabricating that the facility looked amazing, but looks could easily be deceiving and I fucking refused to send my boy away. He was much better off with me.

After she'd left, I rose to my feet, immediately tossing the glossies. I headed to the window, trying to figure out what the fuck I was going to do.

The sharp ring of my phone made me laugh. I'd been very deep in thought. Seeing Vadim's number, I sighed. He knew what I was doing today. But when in need, Vadim called. "What do you need?"

"Wow. Hello to you too. I take it the search isn't going well," Vadim said, more amused than anything.

"Not at all. I hate fucking hiring people."

He laughed. "I was trying to think of anyone I knew but I know you won't trust just anyone. Look, why don't you take some time with Damien. The shitstorm we're going to face can wait."

"I might need to take a couple extra days when Amanda's gone. It's so damn frustrating. She suggested a school. Locking my kid away? I can't see it."

"And I wouldn't expect you to. You need to think outside of the box to find the right person."

"Meaning what?" I was so damn exhausted my eyes hurt.

"Meaning my grandmother taught me, when you stop looking, the right person will come along but, in this case, perhaps you're looking too conventionally. As in you really just need to find someone who loves kids, has enormous patience, and who can make anything fun. That could be a college girl or a former teacher. You just never know."

He was right. "I'll see if I can expand my horizons. Any news on the shipment?"

"Believe it or not, I didn't call for business purposes. However, since you asked, it's still on track, no oddities while being delivered to the port. Still, my gut tells me something is brewing."

"Yeah, I get it. You need to keep soldiers crawling the streets, searching bars and restaurants where loose lips sink ships."

"I think you're right. The guys have been more like bulls in china shops," Vadim admitted. "Just do me a favor and check with your connections in Brighton Beach."

"Will do." Whenever I could dig myself out of a hole.

After we both ended the call, I threw my head back and groaned. Maybe he was right in that fate would intervene. All I could do was laugh at this point.

If I didn't, I would get very angry.

And bad shit happened when I became enraged.

Chantel

Boogeymen.

I hated bad dreams, nightmares that refused to allow me to get more than a couple of hours' worth of sleep. That had been my night before. Between the constant traffic noises and the squeaks that made me think someone had broken into the apartment, I was exhausted and pissed off. I'd even left a message for Sonya at lunch, but she hadn't called me back.

I tossed my purse onto my little desk, huffing because of the last couple of days. On top of the shitty night I'd had, a storm was rolling in, the wind already whipping us. I hadn't brought an umbrella. If it rained before work was over, I'd be soaking wet by the time I made it back to my shithole. I meant my apartment.

"You need to stay away from him," a tiny voice said just over my shoulder.

I tipped my head. Misty seemed like a nice girl, a little timid and mousy but nice. "Did something happen?"

She glanced toward the corridor where Mr. Davenport's office was located. "He asked where you were just after you left for lunch."

"Great. Is he always this way?"

"Why do you think I dress like this?" she asked in a way she obviously didn't want anyone else to hear. "He doesn't even know I exist. You're beautiful, way too much so."

Shit. "Why do you work here? Why does any woman work here?"

Misty shrugged. "It's a good launching ground. I have resumes out and I've gotten a few bites. I can almost double my salary if I'm cautious."

Well, good for her.

I was ready to issue a barrage of questions when it seemed the air all around us became icy. Women scattered, hiding in front of their computers and remaining quiet.

"Shit. Gotta run," Misty mumbled.

What the hell was wrong with everyone? I turned slightly. Seeing Mr. Davenport brought a round of bile into my throat.

"Ms. Myers. My office. Now." He spun on his four-thousand-dollar loafers and took long strides back to his office.

"Shit."

"Poor girl."

"Thank God I'm not you."

I wasn't entirely certain where the comments were coming from but it didn't matter. The bastard wasn't going to ruffle my feathers. Nope. I took the same long strides, almost pounding on the man's door when I reached his office.

"Come in." His voice was a little gruffer as I walked in. He was studying a file, not bothering to look up at me. "Close the door."

I did but remained several feet away from his desk. He was trying his best to make me feel uncomfortable by making me wait.

Five minutes.

Ten.

I was this close to walking out when he finally lifted his head, studying me in an entirely different way. He tossed the file and moved around his desk. There was something about the look on his face that irritated the hell out of me. I refused to move even as he walked closer.

"I don't take kindly to anyone lying about their identity."

And there it was. How in God's name had he figured it out? Other than the connections I'd heard about. "What are you talking about?"

The man grinned and as soon as he lifted his arm as if to touch me, I snapped my fingers around his wrist. It was one of those gestures where I knew I'd likely just signed my termination, but I didn't give a shit. This went far behind sexual harassment and I wasn't about to take it.

"Your father is Vissarian Kuzmin, a notorious crime boss out of LA."

Goddamn, his eyes were twinkling as if he'd won a kewpie doll at a state fair.

"So?"

He growled. "And your pseudo uncle is the Brigadier for the Bratva. Yes?"

"What does it matter?"

He smirked. "Because both entities are bad seeds and have caused issues for my world."

I wasn't even certain if I gave a shit what he was getting at. But I could instantly tell he was going to try to use the information as leverage. "I'm my own person, Mr. Davenport. I thought you hired me for my skills."

"I wouldn't have hired you at all had I known. Now, you can simply leave the premises, never to return or you can agree to become my mistress. If you do, you'll never want for anything. The shitty apartment you live in will disappear and you'll be living in a penthouse. How about that?"

The fucker knew where I lived? Well, of course. I had to put an address on my application. I was brought back to boogeymen and nightmares.

I'd faced this kind of crap before. If you were considered a beautiful girl in Beverly Hills, you were hit on, propositioned, or expected to ‘perform,' but he'd picked the wrong girl. Also, between what Sonya had told me and now this, my gut told me something was going on. It was as if the world was getting ready to implode. Had my father done something while he was here I didn't know about? I wouldn't put it past him.

But I wasn't my father's daughter right now. I was me, a hardnosed bitch.

"What will it be?" He dared to rub the tips of his fingers down my arm and that was it. And I did mean it. I hauled off and punched him with all the fury of a mafia princess.

"That's my answer. I quit. Oh, and go fuck yourself, you pig."

I flung open his door with enough force, it slammed back against the wall. There wasn't a pair of eyes that wasn't locked on me as I walked down the corridor of shame to my cubicle. Forget about the assistants' pool. I wanted to shout out to get some damn popcorn, but I still thought best not to do something so impetuous.

Even if it might make me feel a little better.

I grabbed my purse and the little lunch bag I'd brought my PB&J in, heading toward the elevator. Maybe the man would call the police. I didn't plan on hanging around long enough to find the fuck out. God, I was pissed. And worried.

And frustrated.

And needed a punching bag and…

Oh, God. What was I going to do?

Find work elsewhere. I refused to put my tail between my legs and run home to Daddy. Shit, for all I knew, the man had paid Mr. Davenport to do exactly what he did just to force me back home. Oh, men.

As soon as I walked outside, a rumble of thunder occurred. Of course it did. I took long strides toward the subway, forced to wait for almost ten minutes. I continued to glance over my shoulder, certain I'd see the boys in blue chasing me.

I couldn't call my father.

Then I'd have to tell him I'd failed. He'd insist I come home.

Crap.

A creepy crawly feeling washed over me. Why?

Swallowing, I glanced all around me seeing nothing but people trying to find a way to wherever their lives were taking them.

But the strange feeling remained.

Nope. I wasn't going there.

The subway came and I was fuming, climbing on, shocked how crowded it was this time of day. And the oddest thing was that I could swear eyes were watching me. Of course it was nuts but seconds before I'd stepped on, I'd glanced to my left. A man in a hoodie had jumped on quickly, but not before glancing in my direction.

Given the ominous light, I was able to see his black and very piercing eyes.

As the subway rumbled to a start, I glanced at the doors connecting the two cars, my heart racing. Nothing happened at first but suddenly, the doors opened and while there was a crowd of people in the way, I was fairly certain the hooded man had walked through.

As if acting out a movie, I inched closer to the front, trying to figure out what to do. I didn't know the area very well, which had me at a disadvantage. But I did know the stop coming up in less than a minute. Maybe the smartest thing to do was to get off there and scurry back to my apartment. It was still light. I could walk fast and certainly didn't want the bastard to catch me here.

The stop came and I was the first one bolting off, not bothering to look behind me before I took very long strides up the stairs to the street level, heading down the sidewalk with purpose.

After a few seconds, I dared to shift against one of the buildings, glancing over the crowd.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The hooded man was there, following me. I was positive of it. Goddamn it, I had heels on, but I took off scurrying like I'd never done before, barely making it across a side street before the pedestrian sign turned red.

Vehicles honked. People screamed out their windows, but I couldn't care less.

Seconds later, I looked again. How had the fuck managed to keep up with me? My heart was in my throat, my mind trying to remain calm, but I had to admit I was terrified.

A bolt of lightning streaked and I almost screamed, forced to bite my lower lip. Within seconds, the rain started, not too heavy at first but with the clouds almost black, I knew it was just a matter of time.

I was right. I was one block from my apartment and it was as if the sky gave out, torrential rain falling. I could barely breathe, refusing to look back one more time before shoving my key into the outer lock of the building. As with any horror movie, my shaking hands almost made me drop my keys, but as soon as I snarled, the shaking stopped.

I don't think I could have raced up the stairs any faster, hissing the entire time I unlocked the bolts. I flew inside, slamming the door and locking every lock, backing away as if the boogeyman was going to slide in from underneath the door.

This was insane.

I'd bitten off more than I could chew.

I continued to back away until I almost tripped over the couch. My breathing was ragged, my mind still trying to process the last hour or so. Frustrated, I groaned and resisted stomping my foot on the floor, heading to the window instead.

This time, I stayed on the side, peering out the glass and holding my breath. I couldn't see anything. The street and sidewalks were not only too busy with activity, the rain was also falling in sheets.

I moved away, immediately heading to my bedroom to dry off and change. I had no clue what I was going to do from here, but I knew I couldn't stay holed up in my apartment for the rest of my life. However, for right now, I was perfectly content with remaining behind locked doors.

An hour passed.

Two.

Three.

I continually looked at the window, seeing nothing.

I made a sandwich, barely able to eat. I grabbed a water, trying to chug it and almost choking.

Two more hours. It was getting dark, my fears increasing.

I paced and paced some more, trying not to just stare out the window. But when darkness settled in, I returned to the window. Oh, my God. There he was, standing just under the streetlight looking directly at my apartment.

In his hoodie.

In the rain.

I couldn't take it any longer. I was terrified, no longer guessing I'd been followed. It had been confirmed. Backing away, I raced to my purse, grabbing my phone. I was shaking all over when I tried to call my father. I knew he was back in LA but I needed to talk to a voice of reason.

"Hey, baby girl. How's the new job?"

"Daddy." It was the only word I could get out of my mouth.

"What the hell is wrong?"

"I quit. The man was a pig. But someone has been following me. He's standing right outside my apartment. And Sonya warned me and I don't know what to do." I'd never been prone to hysteria in my life but I was close to hyperventilating, my mind spinning to crazy possibilities including murder.

Bloodshed.

"Whoa. Calm down. When did this start?"

"Yesterday. He's outside right now just standing there. But he followed me on the subway. I'm certain of it."

His growl meant business. "You're going to listen to me and you're not fucking with me on this. Pack a bag with several days' worth of things. Stay inside your locked apartment. I'm going to have some men sent for you and they will take you somewhere safe. Listen to them and you'll be alright. Okay?"

"Okay." What else was I supposed to say? "I've never been this scared."

"I can tell, honey. It'll be okay. Just breathe and do as I say. Stay away from the window."

"Okay." I didn't want to let him go but there was no other choice. When I was once again all alone, a single tear slipped past my lashes. It wasn't like me but I couldn't help it. After taking another deep breath, I ran into my bedroom to grab some clothes and toiletries.

I'd made a huge mistake. Huge.