12. Trust Me #2
She spent the next thirty minutes with her translator team.
There were multiple events, dinners, and meetings where interpreters were needed to bridge the communication gap.
Once, she’d reviewed the schedule and made the necessary changes, she made her way toward Bulgrov’s executive conference room.
One quick stop for coffee before she continued down the hall.
The door was shut, so she set down the tray, and knocked.
“Yes,” said the ambassador.
She opened the door, picked up the tray, and entered. Her attention was drawn to a map of the United States projected brightly on the back screen. Before she could tap her spy glasses, Bulgrov closed his laptop, plunging the room into darkness.
Why would they be looking at a map of the US?
“Another blackout,” said Natasha.
“Turn on the light, Minka,” Bulgrov commanded.
After setting down the tray, she flipped it on and eyed the attendees—Natasha, the embassy’s social director, and Dmitri Petrov, the Russian businessman.
She poured a coffee, served the ambassador. On a small plate, she placed one sugar packet and a wooden stirrer, setting that beside his mug.
“Ms. Natasha, Mr. Petrov, may I serve you?”
Coffees for everyone.
“Is that all, Mr. Ambassador?” Halston asked.
“Sit,” Bulgrov said.
Halston eased into a chair beside Natasha, tapped her eyeglasses twice to start the short video.
“Minka, you’ve worked hard, proven your loyalty to me, to our country,” Bulgrov began. “I am proud of you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Natasha speaks highly of you,” he continued. “She said you offered to help her.”
“Admirable,” Petrov added.
Natasha nodded along before sipping the strong coffee.
“We have chosen you for assignment that will forever shift global balance of power.” A sly smile from the ambassador.
As Halston leaned back in the conference room chair, her gaze slid from one to the other, her thoughts jumping to the map.
“You will have key role in making happen,” Natasha added.
“How can I be of service?” Minka asked.
“Yuri, event January fifteen is moved. January eight,” Petrov explained in somewhat broken English.
That’s days away.
The ambassador opened his laptop and placed his index finger on the fingerprint sensor to unlock it. “Let me add that—”
“For fuck’s sake, not on calendar!” Dmitri Petrov barked. “Stupid man.”
The ambassador’s shoulders fell.
Here we go again.
Ignoring Dmitri Petrov, the ambassador slammed down his laptop, fixed his chilly stare on her. “Minka have go-bag ready. That is all.”
“Thank you, sir.”
With the carafe in hand, she topped off their coffees, then left, shutting the door behind her.
What the hell is going on?
She needed a copy of that map from Bulgrov’s laptop, and she needed it now. But more than that, she needed to know what they were going to do on January eighth that would shift the global balance of power.
This is big… and this is bad. Very, very bad.
As she scrolled through emails, she ran through every scenario she could think of for fast access into his computer. In Russia, she had to do it alone, but here in the States, she had others to help her. For Halston, there was one person who jumped to the top of that list.
Wolfie.
He’ll help me.
Ambassador Bulgrov entered her office. “Minka, I heard from Bob Smith. He said you didn’t reply to his texts.”
“Not yet.”
His eyes narrowed as he stared down at her. “I’m not asking. I’m telling. This is official order.”
She wanted to scream, she wanted to walk. Instead, she pasted on a smile. In her thickest Russian accent, she said, “I’ll arrange meeting now.”
A flush of heat colored his cheeks. “Not work meeting. After-hours get together.”
She didn’t need to ask him if she was supposed to go along with the sex. That was implied. She was being told to whore herself out. This changed everything.
Pulling her work phone off her desk, she replied to the scumbag’s texts.
Tomorrow, nine o’clock
Dots appeared, then his reply.
Drinks at Krov Bar. I pick up
I’ll meet you
Tonight better
Pushy asshole.
Tomorrow or next week
Tomorrow
Her insides pulsed with angry energy, her foot tapped beneath her desk. She wanted to curl her hands into fists and scream, but she set her phone face down on her desk, shot the ambassador a cool smile.
“Tomorrow night.”
“You’ll have good time.” He turned on his heel and exited.
Krov Bar translated to Blood Bar.
Things are gonna get ugly.
Pushing out the Bratva thug, she refocused her thoughts on the map. She left her office, walked the short distance to the ambassador’s office.
“Excuse me.”
He looked up from his laptop.
“Sir, you haven’t given me your schedule for the New Year. When can I expect that?”
“Your assignment will take you off-site, so I put in a request for a temporary assistant until you return,” he said dryly.
Without knowing his schedule, she’d be flying blind and couldn’t risk trying to hack into his laptop.
On a tight nod, she left his office. Frustration had her moving at a rapid pace. So as not to draw attention to herself, she slowed down.
Get it together and figure it out.
Grabbing her coat, she left the building.
Normally a dutiful worker, she was going to insure she got what she needed.
After walking several blocks in the cold January morning, she summoned a rideshare.
Shortly after, it dropped her at Hotel Dillinger.
In her suite, she opened the hotel safe, extracted her personal phone and texted her brother, Wolf.
Are you in the US
Yes. You?
DC. Call me
Her phone rang. Relief spread through her as she answered. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Wolf replied. “You okay?”
“I need your help.”
“Let me call you back from a secure line.” The line went dead.
She stared out the window seeing nothing. Seconds passed. She eyed her phone, willing it to ring. When it did, she jumped. She answered but said nothing.
Silence on the other end.
“Okay, the line is clear,” Wolf said.
“I’m not on a secure line,” Halston replied.
“We’ll keep it short.”
“I need to get into a laptop, grab info, and get out.”
“Fingerprint accessible?”
“Yes.”
“You know what to do,” her brother said. “When can I pick it up?”
“Tonight, six-thirty. Hotel Dillinger, suite 1119.”
Without a goodbye, Wolf hung up.
She slid her gaze back out the window. The climate had shifted. She could feel the change coming. While it was a big responsibility to find out what was about to go down, she could handle it. Before returning her phone to the hotel safe, she saw she had texts from Gabriel.
Thinking of you
Forty-five minutes later another message.
Surprise for tonight
Your SUV is parked in reserved spot in loading dock. Miss you baby
A sliver of joy curled around her heart. Just enough to make her happy, but not so much that she was delusional. This was playboy Gabriel Santini after all.
Had to return to hotel. Going back to work. Can’t wait for tonight!
She shelved the phone in the safe, shut the door, and confirmed it was locked.
Twenty-minutes later, she was back in her office. Her staff had a scheduling emergency, so she shuffled around some events, booked herself for the overflow, then beelined to her boss’ office.
He was on the phone, but waved her in.
“I look forward to that too. Thank you.” Bulgrov hung up. “Bob Smith is ecstatic. That made Dmitri Petrov happy. Good work, Minka.”
“Of course.” She opened his cabinet, removed two lowball glasses, then a finger’s worth of top-shelf Russian vodka. “We celebrate the power of Minka.” She forced a smile. “I make people happy. That is my job. If ambassador is pleased with my work, I am proud.”
Though she didn’t want to get her prints on his glass, she had no choice. She handed him one, raised hers.
“Za vashee zda-ró-vye, Gospodin Posol!” To your health, Mr. Ambassador!
His phone started ringing as he tossed back the crystal clear liquid, set down his glass.
“Hello,” he answered.
She collected his glass and left his office, stopping to dump her vodka in the women’s restroom.
After hiding his glass in her desk drawer, she went in search of a bag, finding one in the break room.
The plastic grocery bag wasn’t ideal, but she’d done her part.
Either her brother would be able to lift Bulgrov’s prints, or he wouldn’t.
She returned to her office, forcing herself to focus on the myriad of tasks for the ambassador. For the first time in a long time, she had something to look forward to after work. A dinner date with Gabriel Santini.
Is he mine?
A smile lifted the corners of her lips.
He might be… if I want him to be.
GAbrIEL
Gabriel entered the offices of Develin and Associates in the heart of Georgetown, checked in at the front desk. A moment later, Evangeline greeted him.
“C’mon back,” she said. “They’re expecting you.”
As she escorted him to Sin’s office, Gabriel took in the surroundings.
A large bullpen of cubicles, the buzz of multiple conversations filling the expansive space.
Offices lined the left wall, most doors were open, people meeting or talking on the phone.
The palpable energy reminded him of Santini Euro, and a pang of envy flitted through him.
He missed his life in Italy, missed running his empires. Both the legal and the illegal.
“How’re you feeling?” Evangeline asked.
“About Halston?”
Evangeline smiled. “You were shot, G, but I like where you went with that.”
He smiled. That’s what Halston did for him. She brought him joy.
Evangeline stopped in the executive wing. Before opening the door to Sin’s office, she said, “Halston is talented, unique to ALPHA, and she puts herself at risk every single day. From what I can tell, you’ve got feelings for her.”
“I do.”
“How you two proceed is up to you, but there will be hell to pay if you mess with her head… or her heart. And I’m not talking about the vengeance Sin would bring down on you.” A knowing smile filled her pretty face. “I’m talking about mine.”
“I’m not the bad guy here.”