Chapter 14 Matei
MATEI
Itake a break from working and lean back in my chair and unlock my phone.
I open the security app and click "GUEST BEDROOM."
The video loads, and there she is.
Jordan is lying on the bed, staring up. The notebook I gave her is next to her on the bed.
She's finally come around, showered, and changed into one of the outfits I had placed in her closet.
I've been watching this feed more than I should over the past two days. Just checking, I tell myself. Making sure she's there, that she's safe.
She left me no choice, really. Forty-eight hours ago, I was forced to reprimand one of my men in front of her because she tried to break the rules. Now I watch her so she doesn't decide to do anything else I don't allow.
She shifts on the bed, brushing hair out of her face, and my eyes track the movement. She then sits up and props some pillows behind her back and leans against the headboard, closing her eyes, and I watch the rise and fall of her chest.
She's been compliant suddenly. I have to hand it to her. She's not fighting me on things so much. She's been a very good girl, but I'm not stupid. She'll bolt as soon as she's given the opportunity.
So today I'll push her with a bit more questioning.
Adrian's name flashes on the screen.
I answer. "Da."
"We got one," Adrian says, his voice rough and breathless, like he's been running or fighting.
"Where?" I ask.
"Pasadena. Small club, but they were moving product. A lot of it."
I straighten in my chair. "That blue shit?"
"Yeah. We found crates of it in the back office here. We grabbed one of the suppliers. Russian."
My jaw tightens. "What Russian family?"
Adrian pauses. I hear muffled voices in the background, then a grunt. Someone's in pain.
"The guy doesn't know," Adrian says finally. "Says he's paid by the Bulgarians. Never met the Russians directly."
"Bullshit."
"That's what I thought too." Adrian's voice sharpens. "So I persuaded him. He's telling the truth. The Bulgarians are running the operation, but the Russians are supplying. Moving the product through the Port of Los Angeles. Big shipments. Guy here says weekly."
I lean forward, elbows resting on the desk, my mind already calculating routes, shipment schedules, bribe points. "How much are they moving?"
"Millions. Maybe more. They bribe smaller gangs to push it on the street, get everyone hooked, then kill them off and take over the neighborhoods. It's pretty good, actually. Guy here says they only hire Bulgarians and Russians who are in the US or come here for the job."
"Smart," I say.
"Too smart," Adrian agrees. "But here's the thing. Based on what this guy says, I don't think the Bulgarians give a shit about LA itself. They're treating it like a gold vein. Extract the money, leave a mess."
My hand curls into a fist on the desk. "They're bleeding the city dry."
"And we're in their way."
I exhale slowly, forcing my mind to focus. The Bulgarians are a problem. A big one. And now this is about to get complicated because if they don't even care about the city we're trying to build an empire in, when we take it, it might be worthless already.
"And there's one more thing," Adrian says.
"What?"
"Well," he says, "it's weird, but they had a box of all kinds of women's things. Like discarded clothes, makeup, shoes even."
"Did you ask the guy? That drug gets people going. Maybe some orgies or it’s what strung-out women left behind."
There's a pause.
"Yeah, that's what the guy said. Not about the orgies, but users leaving stuff behind, but I don't know, Matei. Women don't leave these kinds of things, ya know."
I nod. "Well, women on drugs do all kinds of weird shit."
"Yeah, okay," he says.
There's a knock at the door.
I glance up. "Intr?. Come in."
The door opens, and it's a guard with her. I glance at my watch. Wow. Already time to meet with her.
"Forget about that. Focus on the other stuff. Call me when it's done," I say to my brother on the phone.
"Wait, what about…"
I hang up.
I nod to my guard, who leaves and shuts the door.
"Thank you for coming," I say, leaning back in my chair.
"Well, I didn't have a choice, really. Your friend just showed up and told me to come."
"Did he knock first?" I ask.
"Yeah," she says. "Why?"
"Let me know if anyone ever doesn't."
She looks at me. "You don't."
I shrug. "Because I'm me and this is my house. Please sit down," I say, motioning to the chair in front of my desk.
She does, and I get up and walk around and lean against my desk in front of her and cross my arms.
"Tell me about those Bulgarians from the club you worked at."
She looks up at me and squints. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, what can you tell me about them?"
She pauses for a moment. "Well, nothing really. They, or others like them, came often. I hated it because they were very flirtatious and touchy."
My jaw tenses at the thought of that.
"They talked a lot about money and the things they had," she sighs. "I don't know much else. Um, they drank a lot and got annoying and tipped like shit. But when we worked the VIP area, we got a cut, so the money was good enough."
I nod.
"And the men who were there that night, had you seen them before? Anyone more than the others?"
She looks down at the floor, thinking.
"Uh, yes. Two or three of them. The main guy you were talking to, for sure, I think."
She's referring to Stoyan. That piece of shit would sell his soul for a buck. Well, would have. He's the one who arranged the meeting there. He's the one who bragged about what they had done in LA so far. The one who thought I was just passing through and not here in a hostile takeover.
So far I can't say she's lying.
"I see. So you didn't really know them outside of there?"
"No," she shakes her head. "They always tried to get us to go hang out with them or go someplace or promised to take us around the world, but I never did."
"Why?"
"Because the price for that is blowjobs and sex, and I'm not going to be doing that. I'd rather see Paris without the taste of some pervert's dick in my mouth, thank you very much."
I crack my neck and find myself oscillating between slight amusement at her jokes and something else.
I push off the desk and head to the bar cart.
"Want a drink?" I ask.
"No thank you," she says.
I pour myself some whiskey and take a sip.
"Okay," I say and turn back around. "What about drugs? Do you know if they were selling anything? Using the club as a meeting point?"
She hesitates. It's the first time she's done that since I started asking her questions.
Interesting.
"Um," she says and rubs the back of her neck. A nervous tick, I assume. "No. No, I don't know."
Dammit. Her first lie.
Tsk, tsk, Jordan.
I'll play along for now, because I can, and her being here is…
I glance down and see she's holding something.
"What's in your hand?" I ask.
"Oh," she says and holds it out. "It's my bills."
I set my drink down and walk over and take it from her, my fingers brushing hers for just a second. She pulls her hand back quickly, like I burned her.
I unfold the paper. It's a list. Handwritten in small, neat letters.
Rent: $1,850 (my share)
Utilities: $142 (my share)
Phone: $70
Credit Card 1: $387
Credit Card 2: $704
Credit Card 3: $304
Toward the bottom is all the details I need. Credit card numbers, account details, and at the very bottom is the total.
I look up at her. "Are these monthly payments on the cards or totals?"
"Payments."
I nod and walk around my desk and grab a pen and slide the paper back to her, setting the pen on top of it.
"I want the full amounts."
She looks at me for a moment and then grabs the pen and writes it down. "There."
I grab it and look it over. "Is this everything?"
She nods. "That I can think of. My roommate paid my share of the rent, but I want to pay her back. It's not fair that she covers the whole thing."
I nod. "I'll take care of it."
"Thanks." Her voice sounds like a mix of defiant and shock.
I set the paper down on the desk, smoothing it out with my palm. "Don't worry about it."
She nods again, her eyes still avoiding mine.
"So can you tell me really why I'm here? And don't say because I have answers. I already told you I don't know anything."
I fold up her paper and put it in my pocket and then stand and grab my drink.
"Because," I say and take another sip, "I like your company?"
"You like my company?" she says. "Come on, I'm serious."
"So am I."
"Seriously. Just tell me," she says. "You could have any girl you want and you just want company?"
"But I don't want just anyone's company right now. I want yours," I say.
She breaks eye contact with me and looks down, but I notice a hint of something there.
"What if I told you," I continue, "that the Bulgarians are after you and the only way to keep you safe is to keep you here?"
Her eyes go wide and she sits forward in her chair. "What? Are you serious?"
I take another drink, letting time stretch between us for a moment.
"No," I say and smile.
"So you just like playing games, then."
"Who doesn't like playing games? Games are fun."
She stands up. "Well, maybe, but not when you feel like you started off losing."
"I wouldn't know. I've never felt that way."
She rolls her eyes. "Can I go?"
"Yes, but not too far, fluture."
She goes to leave and then stops at the door. "I appreciate that you've been nice, I guess, to me, but you can't keep me locked up forever. Sooner or later, you'll have to let me go."
"And what makes you so sure that when it comes time, you'll want to go?"
"I'll want to," she says, and walks out of my office.
I stare at the door for a second before pulling out her note again.
I look at the new total as I sit back at my desk.
This is it. This is all it costs to buy her freedom from the bullshit she was drowning in.
I unlock my phone and pull up my accountant's number.
Pay off everything on this list. Immediately.
I attach a photo of the paper and hit send.
The response comes back within seconds.
Understood. Will be handled within the hour.
I set the phone down and lean back in my chair, exhaling slowly.
So she's feeling like this game is one-sided.
I know she's not telling me the truth about the drugs, and that makes me question what she truly knows about the Bulgarians.
I need to make things more worth her while, since there are things she's keeping from me. I think I know exactly how to do that. Bring her guard down and have her open up to me. Submit to me, even.
I think about her for a moment and then switch back into work mode. It'll have to wait until tomorrow.
I wake up my laptop and pull up a map of the Port of Los Angeles.
If the Bulgarians are moving product through the port, they have routes, contacts, and bribe networks.
I'm going to dismantle every single one.
I pull out my phone and send an encrypted text to Adrian.
When you're done, find out who's running the port operations. Names. Schedules. Shipping manifests.
I hit send, and about ten minutes later Adrian calls.
"It's done. Russian's dead. Product's destroyed."
"Good."
"Got your text," he says. "You want to intercept shipments?"
"I think we can do better than that." I lean forward, my eyes narrowing as I study the map. "We're going to take over their supply chain."
Adrian laughs. "The Russians or Bulgarians won't like that."
"I don't give a shit what either of them like. We're here to build an empire, so might as well start."