Chapter 39
LEX
A shady as fuck looking building in Queens, New York.
We pull up just shy of the drop, parking the van and my bike in the shadows of the alley. The building looks like it’s one good gust of wind from collapsing. Perfect place to do shady shit. Or get buried.
But it’s the other car that grabs my attention. Jet black. Glossy. Expensive as fuck. Some overpriced import with bulletproof windows and a custom license plate that probably says something like GODMODE. Because of course it does.
And leaning against it? Well fuck me sideways. Tall, tan, and shirtless, because apparently dress codes don’t apply when you’re rich and insane. Just dark jeans, combat boots, and a full dragon tattoo curling across his chest and shoulder like he thinks he’s in a Marvel movie.
Asian guy. Lean, inked, and lounging like the devil himself. He’s grinning like he already knows how this ends.
“Who the fuck is that?” I mutter, already annoyed.
Bella steps out of the van all lethal curves and controlled chaos. My fucking chaos. She walks straight up to him like it’s nothing, like she owns the ground under her red stilettos.
He doesn’t even blink. Just says, “About time,” and pulls her right into him.
What the actual fuck?
She stiffens. “Not now, Laing.”
Laing. Laing? What kind of name is that? Sounds like the villain from a sushi-themed Bond movie.
He leans down, lips at her ear, and whispers something I can’t hear. Which only makes it worse.
My jaw clenches. Fists too. I’m about two seconds away from stomping over there and breaking every rib that fucking dragon’s crawling over. I don’t care if he’s CIA, NSA, goddamn Mortal Kombat. He touches her like that again, and I’m putting him in the ground.
“Chill, dude.”
Knox. Of course.
Not now Bestie.
He steps up next to me, calm as ever. “You don’t want to touch that.”
“The fuck I don’t,” I growl, eyes locked on where Laing’s still got his hand on her hip like he owns her.
“Lex. Seriously. I know we just met but, if you care about her—and I’m assuming you do, based on the whole ‘licking her neck and declaring eternal possession in front of a van full of people’ thing—then don’t fuck up her missions.”
“He touched her.”
“He always touches her,” Knox shrugs. “Creepy, flirty, and unfortunately… extremely useful.”
I glance at him, ready to argue. He cuts me off with a flat look. “You storm over there and punch him and derail whatever op we’re doing tonight? That’s ego, Barinov. And Bella doesn’t have time for ego.”
I swallow the fury rising in my throat, watching as she finally pulls away from Laing and says something sharp enough to wipe the smug grin off his face.
I exhale. “I don’t like him.”
Knox taps me on the shoulder. “Nobody does. But until she tells him to go? We’re stuck with his ass.”
I narrow my eyes. “Who the hell is he?”
“Laing Wei. Head of the Red Silk Triads out of Hong Kong. Took over when his father was killed. Brutal, brilliant, and tough as shit.”
My head snaps toward him. “He’s Triad?”
“Yeah. Usually stationed in San Francisco, but lately…” He trails off. I follow his line of sight. Bella, still standing way too fucking close to Tattooed Dragon-Dick. “…he’s been hanging around New York more.”
“Wonder why.”
Knox smirks like he knows damn well why, and I swear to God I nearly punch him just for that look.
Instead, I mutter under my breath, “This night just keeps getting better.”
Knox clocks my glare and leans in. “Don’t worry, man. Bella plays him just like he plays the rest of the world.”
I grunt.
“She’s in control. Always,” he adds. “We’ve got his Black Book so he works for us until she says otherwise.”
He jerks his chin toward Bella as she heads back toward us, Laing glued to her side like a damn shadow.
“She’s the boss,” Knox finishes. “You’d be smart to remember that.”
Bella stops in front of us, calm and composed like she’s not dragging a Triad kingpin around like a pet.
“Alright, boys,” she says, giving Laing a side glance. “There’s been a change of plans. Krolek’s not here.”
Knox snorts. “Lovely.”
“Same plan as before,” she says, cool and in command. “Tex, get into position.”
“On it,” Tex mutters. He’s already walking away with his sniper case slung over one shoulder like it’s a damn lunchbox. Guy moves like death on vacation.
Bella turns slightly, eyes scanning the rest of us. “Knox? Nate? Comms, cameras, medics and transport?”
Knox gives a quick nod. “Cameras up, audio clean. We’re golden.”
“Medical on standby,” Nate chimes in from the door of the van, checking something on a screen.
Bella nods. “Good.”
Then, just for a heartbeat, her eyes flick to me. I don’t miss it. A glance. Barely a second. But I feel it in my ribs. She turns back just as fast.
“Laing and I go in like planned. Happy couple of foster parents looking to buy and sell.”
Fucking happy couple my ass.
Laing steps in close and pulls her against him, one hand low on her back. “You got it, Iz.”
Iz? The fuck does this guy think he is?
Bella pulls away just enough to regain control. She doesn’t say anything but the message is clear.
Good girl.
“Alright, Tex, you hear me?” she says into the comms.
Tex must respond in the comms because she continues. “Okie dokie boys,” she says with a southern twang. “What’s the word of the day? Tex, it’s your turn to pick.”
Bella sighs. “I am abso-fucking-lutely not saying that.”
A few chuckles ripple through the group. Knox nearly chokes on air.
Laing of course, leans back with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. “What do you want it to be, Iz?”
If Mortal Kombat touches her one more time, the word of the day is going to be homicide.
“Let’s keep it simple,” Bella says, brushing Laing’s hand off her hip. “Something we can work into a lovely husband and wife conversation.”
Husband and wife. Gag.
“Baby,” I pipe up, voice loud and clear. “Don’t say husband and wife with this guy, it makes me want to puke.”
Laing turns to give me a look. All stoic and silent and full of that smug Triad patience bullshit.
Bella rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning. “Okay, boys,” she says dryly, “let’s just do Paris. Quick, casual, easy enough to work into whatever lovely conversation you get us into, Laing.”
She looks at Laing, but he’s not looking at her. He’s still staring at me. Well stare all you want, Mortal Kombat. Get a good hard look. Because one day soon when you’re not useful anymore, I’ll be the last thing those pretty dragon eyes ever see.
Meeting adjourned.
Laing finally puts on a shirt and buttons it up around the wire, thank fuck. If I had to stare at that damn dragon any longer, I was going to rip it off his smug chest myself.
She walks over to me, “Lex.”
“Yes, baby?” I reply pulling her into me, earning a hushed mumble from Tattooed Dragon-Dick.
“Please be good and try not to screw this up for me. I’ve already had a shitty enough night. I will not lose these kids do you understand me?”
“You go get your kids. I’ll stay with Knox.”
She walks back to him. To fucking Laing. He falls into step beside her like he belongs there. I stand there, jaw locked, blood pounding, watching her hips in those leather pants that were apparently crafted to ruin my fucking sanity.
Then he does it. That smug bastard opens the car door like he’s her fucking knight. Doesn’t say a word. Just looks at me—chin up, eyes cold—and shuts the door.
Knox steps up beside me, arms crossed. “Still jealous?”
“I’m two seconds away from lighting him on fire.”
Knox shrugs, totally unbothered. “Cool. I’ll bring marshmallows.”
I climb into the van, shutting the door a little harder than necessary. The fed guy is already there, clean-cut and all buttoned-up professionalism. He gives me a nod.
“I’m Nate,” he says, offering a handshake like we’re about to go over blueprints instead of busting up a creepy sale of some little kids.
“Lex,” I say, gripping his hand. “Appreciate you keeping her alive.”
He nods once, all serious. “Always.”
I glance around. “So, uh… can I get one of those earpieces? I’d like to hear what the hell is going on.”
Nate reaches for a small black comm set, starts handing it over until Knox smacks his hand away mid-pass.
“Not yet,” Knox says, not even looking at me. He’s laughing at the screens. “Let’s let Mommy and Daddy finish their little lover’s quarrel first.”
I blink. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Knox, deadpan, presses the button on the main mic. “Laing. Bella. Either kiss and make up or shut the fuck up.”
He laughs and then hands me an earpiece. “There. That’s better. Welcome to the team, Barinov.”
He smirks. “You can listen but you don’t get a mic. You’ve caused enough drama for one night.”
“Glad to know I’m making an impact.”
Nate huffs a laugh, then leans in closer to the screen. “Here we go.”
Bella and Laing show up on a different cam, walking toward a run-down brick building with blacked-out windows and a rotting fire escape. I squint.
“So, what exactly is going on? Who is this Krolek?” I ask.
Knox points with a lazy finger to one of the cameras. “Bella and Laing are going in as a foster family looking to purchase some kids for their homes. Homes like the one Bella and her brothers grew up in. Ones where the kids will be abused and sold for a hefty profit.”
He zooms in the on camera to get a better look of the room. “Krolek’s a nasty fucker out of Eastern Europe,” he says, fingers flying over the keys. “Kids, guns, flesh, you name it, he’s in it. Zeke had him flagged for years, but he’s slippery as hell. Rarely shows up to the buys himself.”
Knox reaches for a USB drive and sticks it into a tablet. “We were hoping he’d be here tonight but that’s not the case. Zeke was also pretty sure that Krolek is the one who supplied the kids for Carlos’s house.”
On screen, Laing’s got his arm around Bella and squeezes her tight. He leans in, whispers something in her ear, and she fake-laughs like it’s some romcom bullshit.