Chapter 17
Alexei
It's been one hell of a long day. One issue after another kept piling up, and by evening my mind was exhausted, my social battery drained to the point where all I wanted was to sit in a corner and stare into space.
This was one of the reasons I craved my space and relished living alone. Viktor was always the extrovert between the two of us, the one who brought back women and had lavish parties at his mansion weekly.
I, on the other hand, kept my space clear and did what ever needed to be done at our club downtown. I always preferred mixing business with pleasure elsewhere, keeping my sanctuary to myself.
I'm seated in a lounge chair at the hotel bar, nursing a drink after a long, arduous business meeting. The soft lounge music is a welcome reprieve, but when I hear a loud familiar screech, I clutch my head, wishing I couldn't put a bullet through Elina Vasilakis's head.
You know that high pitched sound similar to nails being dragged along a chalkboard? Elina somehow makes that sound like a damn melody.
"Get rid of her," I grit out at Dimitri, who stands close by.
"She came with her father," he murmurs, eyeing the lobby where a group of men in pressed suits—who are most likely armed—have gathered.
I sigh, cursing my luck and this day. "Great. Just fucking great." This is just what I needed—a spoiled brat and the father who enabled that behaviour.
Lorenzo Vasilakis is a short, stumpy man who reminds me of the penguin from batman. Come to think of it, they're more or less the same, both ruthless and willing to stab anyone in the back in order to get what they want.
Let's just say, he didn't gain control of the Northern territories simply by being nice.
Elina huddles close to her father when they walk into the hotel bar and I school my expression, keeping a calm facade as they approach. My men stand close by, our numbers matching theirs.
"Alexei," Lorenzo's gravelly voice pierces the soft music. "It's been a while."
"It has," I say, not bothering to stand up. I gesture to the seat next to me, ignoring the way Elina stares at me greedily. Her large eyes sweep over my body, lips parting slightly. She looks like a rabid animal who's eyeing her next meal.
I shift my attention back to her father, who's somehow easier to look at. Elina is pretty, there's no denying it, but her attitude, her voice, literally everything about her turns me off to the point of disgust.
Lorenzo takes out a cigar and I gesture for someone to get him a glass of whiskey on the rocks.
He lights it up and then taps it lightly over the glass ashtray on the table next to him.
"I hear your last encounter with Elina didn't go so well. Listen, I'm not one to get involved when it comes to a lovers spat, but Viktor did say you were ready for this arrangement."
My lips purse as I take another long sip, eyeing him over the rim of my glass. Lorenzo dresses more humbly than his daughter, his skin pockmarked and weathered. A thin scar runs along the ridge of his hooked nose, and his callused hands are littered with old scars.
The man rose from nothing. He grew up working in the mines before he joined the Greek mafia as a driver for the don. Somehow, he climbed the ranks and now they control almost all the illegal trade routes along the border.
I can't help but the respect the man and if his daughter were more tolerable, I might have considered this alliance. But I've never liked being put in a corner.
"I'm afraid Viktor may have jumped the gun. I'm not interested in marriage. Though if there were another way, I would be happy to discuss business with you," I say, noticing how my men inch a little closer, forming a tight protective circle around my chair.
Lorenzo Vasilakis is not someone people refuse, but I'm not just anyone either.
His expression darkens just as Elina whines like a petulant child. No wonder he's eager to marry her off and get rid of her.
He takes a long drag of his cigar, eyebrows crinkling with distaste. "I don't like people wasting my time, son. I suggest you reconsider your decision."
The air in the bar thickens, so much so that my bartender slips out back, his face etched with fear.
"You know my stance on family, Lorenzo." I lean back in my chair, ankle resting on my knee, the tension in the room curling around me like smoke.
"Yes, I'm well aware of what happened to your mother," he murmurs and my shoulders tense. "Well then, I suppose Viktor won't need the election money I gave him last week. I'll expect it back by Monday, with interest."
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I knew it. The scoundrel obviously had something to gain from all of this. My mouth goes dry as I try to sound as calm as I can. "And how much is that?"
"Ten million. Add a million if you're counting the interest."
I'm so angry, I feel like burning down this bar including everyone in it. Fire scorches my skin, anger radiating off me as I lean forward and interlace my fingers with one another.
Lorenzo can see through it all and he smiles humourlessly. "I see your family isn't as united as it used to be. Your brother is operating behind your back and you don't even know it." He mutters something in Greek and chuckles to himself.
"Nevertheless, if he doesn't pay up, I'll come for you and your father."
My grip tightens around the glass in my hand.
"Or you could marry my Elina, like your brother promised and we'd all be one, big happy family." He stands up, already done with the conversation whilst my mind spins in turmoil.
"Goodnight, Alexei. Send my regards to Nikolai." He then saunters out of the bar, with his battalion of men in tow. Elina scuttles after him, her heels clanking against the marble floors, the sound as annoying as her voice.
I slump against the seat, seething with rage. I immediately pull out my phone and call Viktor. I knew he should never have joined senate, he's out of control and I swear he'll be our ultimate downfall.
"Hello, brother," he slurs on the other end. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"You borrowed ten million from Lorenzo?" I snap across the secure line, getting straight to the point."
My statement is met with silence.
"Speak, you idiot," I raise my voice. "That's why you've been pushing for this stupid alliance."
"Yes, I mean it's not just for that," he justifies, sobering up quickly. "I needed money for the campaign. These things cost a lot of money you know."
"Then you take it from us," I say, my tone knife edged. I wish it was possible to strangle someone through the phone. "Not from someone who charges ten percent interest. You're going to pay him back by Monday."
"What? I don't have to pay him back, Alexei—"
"Yes, you do. Because I'm not marrying that brat."
"Alexei," he chokes. "I can't. I spent most of it already."
I rub my head, feeling a slight headache coming on. "You will pay him back, Viktor. If you don't, I'll pimp you out till your ass makes back all that money."
"Fuck you, Alexei. I don't know why you have to be so problematic. Why can't you just marry—" I cut the line, done with the conversation. Knowing Viktor he'll be shitting bricks by now. I don't play around when it comes to our money and if he's part of the problem, he'll have to be contained.
I'm going to have to talk to father about this.
"I'm heading up. I want you to confirm how much Viktor has spent. Clear his account to get back the rest," I tell Dimitri and then head up stairs.
Only, I'm unable to relax as I pace the span of the penthouse living room. Everything was going so smoothly until my idiot brother had to screw things up. We're already enemies with the Italians, now he's going to make an enemy out of the Greeks as well?
I rub my aching head, trying to focus on a solution. Granted, we have the money but we can't keep buying Viktor out of situations he put us in. I need to think about this, I need to....
I glance at the cctv feed monitoring Daphne. As usual she's no where in sight, most likely in her room but what worries me more is the fact that I don't see Yuri either.
A stab of worry has me rushing to the computer and flipping through the cameras in the living room, doorway and kitchen. He's not there. I check his phone and sure enough, the tracker says he's in that hotel room.
But where?
Icy, cold fear washes over my trembling body. I've never felt panic like this before but I can't stop the images forming in my head of Yuri harming Daphne, or sneaking her out because he's a double agent, or worse—the both of them doing things that people usually do in the bedroom.
I doubt she's that reckless but still....
I'm in the lift within seconds, but it moves so painfully slow, each passing moment driving me closer to madness. When I finally reach her floor, I rush to the last room and unlock the door. The living room is dead silent—Yuri is nowhere in sight—and I bolt for the bedroom.
My breaths are short and rushed, heart pounding. I don't know what I'd do if I lost Daphne, she's literally the most important person in my life right now.
I look around the empty room fervently and then I see the two of them standing in the bathroom staring at me.
"There you are." I relax only slightly, but then I wonder what the hell they were doing here, together. Daphne looks worried, and the two of them stand there awkwardly, like a couple who just got caught, making me see red.
That's it. That's the last straw for today. I can't trust Yuri, or my brother, least of all this slippery girl who has already escaped from me once before.
"Pack your things. You're moving in with me."
I blurt out without thinking. I know I will regret this.
I've never lived with anyone before, and this girl already gets on my nerves.
I'm literally signing away my peace, but I can't think straight, not when she's looking at me like I just told her I'm dragging her to hell.
Her stubbornness only fuels me further and she doesn't budge.
"You're moving up to the penthouse, now," I spell it out for her clearly. "Don't make me wait, zaychik. I'll carry you up there, if I have to."
"I'm fine here," she says, crossing her arms over each other.
"Five minutes," I warn and then gesture for Yuri to follow me.
"Is everything alright, boss?" Yuri asks in a panicked voice. "Shall I make you something to eat?"
"You're not my cook, Yuri. What the hell were you doing with her in that bathroom?"
His eyes widen in panic and he immediately backtracks. "She was hurt, so I went in to check. I never touched her, I swear it."
"Yeah, explains why you're the one with the hurt hand, not her." I roll my eyes.
Daphne takes longer than five minutes and I'm about to go in and grab her but she walks out eventually. She didn't have to pack anything since she came here with nothing and I stand by the door, waiting for her.
She doesn't even look at me as she marches past. We head for the private lift, and she positions herself on the opposite side, putting as much distance between us as possible. It almost makes me smile.
The lift opens right into the living room and she eyes the vast space cautiously.
"Welcome to your new home," I mutter sarcastically as she walks over to the long, U-shaped sofa spanning the living room.
"How long will you keep me here?" she whispers miserably.
I fill up a glass of water and lean against the counter top, watching her.
"Just until you testify," I lie, still unsure of what I plan to do with her after.
Make her disappear. My father's words echo in my head and I take a tentative sip of water.
I suppose the less she knows, the better.