Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

V adim

Boom!

The horrible rumble of thunder and light display from the violent thunderstorm suited the moment but had already gotten on my nerves. Days of this shit. Fuck it. I couldn't lament over the weather at this point.

Bloodshed.

I'd learned a long time ago that bloodstains were tough to get out of carpets and furniture. I rarely brought my work home. It was my sanctuary, but every once in a while, my life required I handle some idiot traitor or rat. Even though my reputation as a ruthless and soulless bastard was widely known, it still seemed at least three or four times a year, someone was stupid enough to cross me.

As I stared down at the beaten and bloody fuck, the man's face no longer recognizable, I rubbed my jaw. How long had it been since I'd shaved? Maybe too long. I was beginning to act like a slovenly hermit.

At least I'd had the forethought over the years to require an oversized piece of plastic when and if I handled business in my home.

Today was the perfect example of why the idea had been a brilliant one.

The fucker was kneeling, his body swaying from the number of punches to the gut, but the guy still wasn't talking.

"I'm going to ask you one last time, Freddie. Who the fuck tried to have me assassinated all those months ago?" My gut told me it was the Italians, the slimy bastards, but so far, I'd yet to prove it. And I certainly had enough intelligence to know starting a war right now with so many political factors going on in the Big Apple was akin to suicide.

"I… dunno." The two little words were slurred and I honestly didn't believe he was certain. But he knew a few things that could have been helpful.

"Well, you made your bed, Freddie boy. Sadly, your last one is going to be plastic." I was bored, in need of a drink, and tired of finding dead ends to the same question. Several of my soldiers remained after the usual meeting we'd had, my parting gift for the evening putting a bullet in Freddie's head.

Which I wasted no time in doing. There was a time when I would have spent hours cutting him to pieces, but I'd grown older, wiser, and had less patience than I'd had when I was in my twenties and thirties. With one clean shot, the man slumped back onto the plastic.

My men knew what to do, soldiers immediately wrapping his body in the thick covering to prevent any mess. I'd just had the carpets cleaned, for fuck's sake.

"Okay, guys. It's been a long day. Go home to your families." I glanced at Francois, another one of my top men. "Is there something else?"

"Some oddities on the street," he answered.

"Oddities?"

He nodded. "It's like something is getting ready to come down."

I laughed. "Then cut it off at the pass. I don't need rumors flying or ridiculous accusations."

"You got it, boss." Francois had his ear to the street, which I appreciated. With New York having four major crime syndicates, it was best to keep an eye on every territory, not just mine.

"What do you want me to do with the body, boss?" Sergei asked, the grin on his face holding a positively wicked appearance. The man was little more than a savage, craving the kill. Well, I let him be in charge of the cleanup crew and that seemed to make him happy.

"Dump him in the East River. I think the fishies need a nice dinner." I shoved my weapon into the pocket of my jacket. I hadn't worn a tie. Lately, they'd become too confining.

"Oh, and check the warehouses tomorrow. I want to make certain there aren't any issues," I instructed. I limped toward the bar, loathing the raging storm outside. It made the injury ache that much more, my limp more pronounced.

A weakness.

I'd been given a fucking weakness by some assholes determined to take over my regime. And I still wasn't certain who the hell was responsible. That left me in a cranky mood.

The two men left were Nikolay Kuzmin, my second in command or in the world of the Bratva, my Brigadier, and a man who'd been a good friend over the years, trustworthy to a fault and once determined to remain on the right side of the law.

I'd convinced him otherwise. Since then, Aleksander Semenov, a highly respected attorney for the top law firm in town had become more than just my drinking buddy. He'd become my Counselor, perhaps the most highly respected position in my ranks.

My father had insisted on developing his American regime the old way with very strict guidelines on positions and promotions. And I had to give the man credit; his system of authority worked like a charm. If my employees were good men and women, they reaped the benefits, including substantial yearly raises and bonuses. But on the flipside, if they betrayed me, they knew what would happen.

That usually made my life a breeze. Not so, the past few weeks since I'd been shot, laid up in the hospital like some fucking invalid for two weeks.

The rumors and gossip channels had been buried fifteen feet under. I poured three whiskeys, realizing the two men had worked on some conversation they wanted to have with me.

They believed ganging up was the best way to handle a rogue like me. Ha. I handed them their drinks, grabbing mine, hissing when another two bolts of lightning flashed outside my office window. I always knew when something was on my soldiers' minds.

"Speak," I said before taking a sip.

"What do you mean, boss?" Nikolay asked, his eyes twinkling.

"You know exactly what I mean. You feel the burning need to say something to me. Do it so I can wallow in my sorrows."

"That's just it," Aleksander said. "The appearance you give to almost everyone, including your own men, is that you're hiding from the enemy. It makes you seem afraid."

Lesser men would die for the disrespect but both men were allowed to speak their minds, no matter how much I hated what they were saying. "I'm not hiding from anyone and the two of you know that." I wanted to add I was the Pakhan but I wasn't into bragging.

"You almost never go out of your house. You haven't gone to the warehouses yourself for inspections since the incident and you haven't even gone to eat at your favorite places. What would you call that?" Aleksander was pushing the envelope, but the man was right.

There was something about seeing your life flash in front of your eyes that took a toll on a man. "So what do you suggest? I pretend like nothing happened?"

"Return to your normal schedule. Be seen. Be heard." Nikolay took a step away as if I was going to hit him.

They were both right but with the limp, I was concerned how other people would see me.

"I have a different recommendation," Aleksander offered. "The governor's ball is less than a week away. You need to go and take a date."

I almost spit out my whiskey. "Wait a minute. Is my manhood being questioned?"

"Fuck, no," my counselor laughed. "Your leadership abilities are. Everyone who is anyone, including notorious criminals, has been invited. Big swanky affair. It's the governor's attempt at bringing happiness to the people of New York. Or to stop the bloodshed and ridiculous corruption, as he likes to call it."

I hated the governor. He was nothing more than a pompous politician with his sights set on the White House. My gut told me he was corrupt, but no evidence had ever been found to that effect. Granted, my men's idea wasn't bad. Sadly, I was sick to death of having useless but pretty women on my arm. I wanted one with more… substance.

That had seemed impossible to find, but maybe I was looking in the wrong place.

"The party is for assholes, brownnosers, and idiots who honestly think the governor can do shit for them." I took another swig of whiskey, wondering why the taste wasn't as good tonight. Perhaps the bad taste in my mouth was from being pushed in a direction I clearly had no desire to go.

"Aleksander is right. You need to show you're a force to be reckoned with."

I slowly turned my head in Nikolay's direction. "I am a force to be reckoned with." Both men were just staring at me.

"Just consider it. Hire an escort as your date. I don't think anyone would notice or give a shit."

Aleks was usually right about most things. He wouldn't have gotten so far up the ladder in the chain of command if he wasn't. Still, I wasn't the kind of man who appreciated being pushed under any circumstances. "I'll consider it."

The partially closed door was thrown open, Sergei returning. "Sorry to bother you, boss, but there's a waif outside who insists she knows you and you're the only one who can help her."

"A waif?" I scrunched my eyebrows together, trying not to laugh. "Did she tell you who she was?" Very few people were stupid enough to simply show up at my residence for no reason.

He shook his head. "She refused and yeah, she looks like a drowned rat."

"She drove?"

"She drove a piece of shit here. What do you want me to do, escort her off the property?"

"Did she say anything else?"

Sergei grinned. "That she has something you might want to see."

I glanced at my other two men, both of them grinning. "Fine. Bring her to my office."

"You got it, sir."

"And bring a towel as well."

Sergei laughed before leaving.

Aleksander was still grinning. "Looks like you have your hands full for the evening. I have an early deposition, so I need to get a few hours of beauty sleep. Come, Nik. Let's leave the powerful man alone."

"It's going to take more than a few hours," Nikolay teased.

At least there was camaraderie within the ranks. I laughed and shook my head. "We'll talk tomorrow about your… ideas."

Aleksander said nothing as the two men started to leave but I knew what he was thinking.

That I was a hardheaded fuck.

I had amassed a significant fortune by being just that.

As well as ruthless. Brutal.

Unforgiving.

All the things needed in a mafia leader.

Just as the two men walked out, Sergei brought in my illustrious guest as well as a scruffy looking duffle bag, which he placed on the floor. The first thing I noticed was the girl's shocking pink hair. The second was that she was drenched from head to toe. The third was that she was wearing chartreuse green tennis shoes. And the last and perhaps the most important aspect of this… waif was that she was carrying a bat in her hand.

She was also shivering, dripping water on my lovely Persian carpet. Fortunately, within seconds Sergei brought a couple of towels.

Aleksander gave me a look before both men walked out.

"You want me to stay, boss?" Sergei asked.

"Not necessary. I think I can handle this." My men had already frisked her so other than the bat, there was no fear she was some femme fatale. After the double doors were closed, I waited to see if she'd say anything. She lifted her head, but the mess of pink hair was plastered to her face. I couldn't see much of her features except for the nose ring.

Now I was glad I'd forbidden my two daughters from getting anything other than their ears pierced. The silence was only marred by the continuing storm. When another rumble of thunder occurred, the girl jumped.

"Not that I don't appreciate mysterious visitors, but I would prefer knowing your name," I told her.

She walked closer, her brow furrowed. When she brushed hair from her face, I finally was able to realize the seemingly fragile girl was fucking beautiful. Her features were perfectly carved, aristocratic, her small nose just adorable. But I sensed a fierceness in her by the expression on her face and the spark in her eyes.

"You don't recognize me?"

Her voice was… Wait a minute. It was impossible. The little girl I'd known had turned into a woman. "Caroline?"

She nodded and slumped visibly. "I know it's been a while and my visit was unexpected, but you were the only person I could turn to."

Caroline Randall was my biological daughter Sofiya's best friend and had been since elementary school. Daniella had joined their little pack, the three calling themselves the musketeers. They were unexpected friends, Caroline coming from Fortune 100 royalty, her father a giant in the computer chip profession. I hadn't seen her in at least three years, maybe four. Back then she'd been a cute, plump girl her father was still trying to mold into a carbon copy of himself. It was apparent the son of a bitch had failed.

However, I was floored by how much she'd changed. She was definitely all woman now.

"What happened?"

"Some men. They um… attacked me in my apartment."

I sensed there was a hell of a lot more to the story. The fact she was here, asking for my help, likely meant she'd gotten herself into the middle of something that was out of her league.

"Are you okay?" I asked, motioning for her to come closer.

"Yeah, I think so. I got one of the guys with my trusty Louisville slugger. The fuck won't walk again." She cracked the bat against her hand, tentatively approaching.

"Sit down. I'll get you a drink. Somehow, I think you need it." I eyed the bat, trying to keep from laughing. It was as if she'd taken a knife to a gunfight but apparently, she had an excellent aim.

"I'll get your nice furniture wet."

I chuckled as I thought about my earlier concerns regarding Freddie's body. "I think I can handle that. Vodka? Wine?"

"Whiskey if you have it."

Whiskey. Things had changed. Hell, I remembered when she and Sofiya had been running through the house, dripping grape soda as they screamed out whatever pop song was popular at the time. I'd even bounced her on my knee more than once. Shit. The most inappropriate thoughts suddenly rushed into the forefront of my mind.

She sat down and she was close enough I could smell the fear resonating off her skin, holding the bat as if it was a lifeline. What the fuck had she gotten herself in the middle of? I refreshed my drink, pouring her one. As I approached, she lifted her head to stare into my eyes. Her eyes had always been the bluest I'd ever seen. My mother would call them soulful eyes.

Even her lower lip was quivering.

I sat down on the chair near her, trying to give her space. With my daughter being in Italy on a shopping trip with Daniella, I doubted she knew what was happening with her friend. After they'd graduated college, both had gone their separate ways. I always found it interesting that Caroline was a couple of years younger, skipping a couple of grades over the years in school. She was considered brilliant by anyone's standards.

Which is why this surprised the hell out of me.

"Okay, Caroline. You need to tell me what's going on. And put the bat down. No one is going to hurt you inside my house."

She took a swallow of her drink, her entire arm shaking as she lowered the weapon to the floor. The way she wrung her hands was disturbing. "Some very bad men are after me. I barely got away."

I'm not certain what I expected but that wasn't it. "Bad men? Why don't you explain."

Caroline needed to use both hands to bring the heavy tumbler to her lips this time. The bat remained by her side, obviously her only weapon. I'd always felt a soft spot for the girl since her parents had rarely bothered to notice how much time she was spending at my house.

I was a busy man, working twelve-hour days often seven days a week, but I'd done my best to share my daughters' lives and celebrations with them. Birthdays. Graduations. Holidays. They were big deals in this house. At least there was something decent about me.

"Um, my work was discovered and they came after me in my apartment. I'm certain it's been trashed, my computers smashed."

"You're a software engineer. Why would bad men be after you?"

She laughed nervously. "I'm a glorified coffee girl for a chauvinistic son of bitch who still lives in the dark ages."

It would seem the once quiet, demure girl had changed in more than just her appearance. "Then what are you talking about?"

A warm flush crept across her face and she wiped her mouth with one of the towels, still just as nervous as when she'd walked in.

"I have a second job. I discover information on people for money."

It took me a few seconds to realize what she was talking about. "You're a hacker."

"Yep." She popped the ‘p' before almost swigging back the entire drink. "I'm careful. Always. I wouldn't be the Pink Flamingo if I wasn't one of the best at what I do. I'm sought after, highly respected on the dark web. There are memes made with flamingos on them because of my work." She was pressing her index finger against her chest as if trying to convince herself.

Meanwhile, she was clearly rattled.

"Then how were you found?"

"I just…" She laughed, looking away. "I think I got careless."

"Who are these men?"

"Mafia." Her face turning sheepish as she looked at me, I was now the one who shook my head.

While neither one of my daughters knew graphic details about my less legitimate aspects of business and certainly had never witnessed a crime, that didn't mean they were clueless about who and what I was. Caroline also knew I was a very dangerous man.

"You have your entire life ahead of you. Why in God's name would you throw it away on hacking? That's a stupid thing to do." I was angry with her, furious actually. I wanted to do nothing more than yank her over my lap and give her a hard spanking, which she obviously needed given her impetuous and reckless behavior.

"The money."

"Money? Your parents are very wealthy."

"I need to do this myself. For my self-worth. It has to be my life. Can't you understand that?"

I could. It was something I'd tossed in my father's face when I was much younger. "Why would you dare fuck with a mafia organization? They are dangerous, Caroline. They intended on killing you for whatever you stole from them. What did you steal?"

"Information," she threw out. "Okay, and money. I transferred some money from one of their offshore bank accounts to my handler."

"How much money?"

"Five hundred thousand but that's chump change to them."

She obviously had no understanding of the fact it could be two thousand dollars and her life would have been placed in jeopardy. Merciless men like me didn't give a shit about the dollar figure. It was all about the theft. No matter her intelligence or experience, she was still na?ve, and far too vulnerable to be in the hacking business.

That made my hand itch to initiate the spanking even more.

"You managed to get yourself into a very bad position, Caroline."

"Which is why I'm here. You're the only one who I knew I could come to."

"For?"

"Protection. Only you can keep me safe. I don't have anywhere else to go. My parents would kill me if they knew. My place is trashed. They'll hunt me down at my shitty job. While I was waiting outside your house, I checked my bank accounts. They were frozen. How does that happen so fast? I have nothing. Nothing. I just…" She tossed back what was left of her drink.

Whatever mafia syndicate she'd pissed off from the Armenians to the Irish thugs, it wouldn't behoove me to get in the middle of this shit. However, she was someone I would protect with my life. The girl was close to being hysterical. I placed my drink on the coffee table, pulling her empty glass from her hand.

When our fingers touched, I would never have expected my body's reaction, the shot of electricity searing every freaking nerve ending.

When she looked up at me with her big baby blues, I wanted to crush the fuckers who'd terrified her.

I headed to the bar, refreshing her drink.

"Why should I consider helping you?" I asked casually.

"Because I have something you want. Because you need me. I can work for you. I can… Whatever you want."

"What could you possibly have I need?" As I turned around, I could see the petrified look on her face and it killed me.

She was more distraught than before, dropping her head into her hands.

While I wasn't a patient man by anyone's standards, I would wait for her as long as it took.

When she finally lifted her head, her eyes were rimmed with tears. "Because I know who's responsible for trying to kill you."