13. Dimitri
13
DIMITRI
The door closes behind her, and I lift my head and suck in a breath.
Jesus fuck.
That kiss.
That fucking kiss.
I thought this was mere lust. I believed I could take her, possess her. Slate my desire and obsession on her and then … what? Let her go? Maybe. Or, perhaps, keep her as my beautiful trophy wife. No feelings involved.
Well, some feelings. Possessiveness. Ownership. Admiration. Not love, though. Not that.
Not ever that.
Then I kissed her.
No, I didn’t fall in love.
I did realize something, however. Something that’s made me think I should stop this before it begins.
I could.
I might.
I walked to the edge of the precipice, and the moments our mouths met, I looked out into the deep abyss of elemental feelings.
If I fall in love, and she finds me wanting—finds the real me, the soul of me—somehow lacking, she will walk away, and I’ll have been deserted once more.
She doesn’t even know about my disability. She doesn’t know that sometimes I have banged my head against the wall to stop the screaming. That I’ve contemplated ending it in the worst, darkest moments just to get some silence. A thought that is so eerily similar to that of my father it makes my blood run cold.
What I wouldn’t give for a moment’s peace. Is that what he thought?
I’ve searched for it for the longest time, and in this room, I felt it. For the first time in years, when her lips touched mine, peace washed over me.
It’s not that the ringing stopped; it just didn’t matter .
The ringing, and wind rushing, and endless fucking noise just didn’t matter.
All that did matter was her. Softness. Mint. Cherry.
Christ, I want to go after her and tell her to go to my cabin and wait there. Then, I want to spend days getting lost in her.
I can’t.
I need to take a beat to think about this. If I go any further, I risk destroying one of us, or both of us.
I’ll not live up to what she wants, and she will get angry, sad, and then she’ll leave. Something beautiful will have turned ugly.
Glancing back at the documents, I sigh and massage the gap between my eyebrows, trying to smooth the encroaching tension headache away.
She needs to be safe, and I can keep her that way. Physically. What I can’t do is protect her heart.
She’ll fall hard and fast. She’s that kind of person. Open. Kind.
I’m closed and hard.
Then she will see the real me, and it will end, and it will be ugly.
Fuck. I need to focus on the things I can control right now, and work is the easiest of those to deal with.
The papers on the desk grab my attention again. I stare at them and then narrow my eyes.
What the actual fuck?
There in black and white are the words that keep turning over in my mind:
Hana will not help procure more women now that she’s married that fucker. I need to find a new woman, someone who the other women will initially trust.
She was helping those fuckers procure women before she married Adriana’s father? Despicable bitch.
My phone beeps. It’s Damen.
“Yes.”
“Got something to tell you.”
“What?”
“The auction isn’t what we were thinking.”
“What do you mean?”
“Adriana is no longer going up for random auction.”
“ What ?”
“Apparently a description of the girls is provided, as well as a photograph, and when Adriana’s went up online, a group member messaged the organizers and stated he wanted her. He said he’d pay two million American dollars. So now, there’s the auctioneers, who are going to be upset with you, and this buyer.”
“Who is he?”
Damen laughs. “I don’t know, but he’s called The Prince. That’s his name in the group.”
“Can you find him?”
“I think so, but it’s not an immediate thing.”
I sigh in frustration.
“There’s more.”
“Fuck my life; of course there is.”
“The name, the nickname I should say, rang a bell.”
“Really?” I lean forward, really alert now.
“Yeah, see, we used to move a lot of illegal artwork. Stolen old masters, that kind of thing. Anyway, I recalled a guy about three years ago or so was obsessed with tracking down this painting. Of a woman. Well, of Snow White, actually.”
My head is spinning. “I’m not following.”
“He was called The Prince. That’s the name he had on the forums we ran on the dark web. Seems like a coincidence, no? He’s in England. So is the buyer for Adriana.”
My heart speeds up. “So if you can get his details, we’ll have him?”
Damen laughs again. “My man, it’s not as if they pay for the artwork with their Amex card, and we deliver it via UPS. It’s all via dark web transfers, crypto, and drop-offs and pick-ups. It was a few years back, and I didn’t do this delivery. The guy who did, who might have seen this man, is dead. Got shot.”
“Great, so we’re no closer to finding him.”
“No, but … I can try to bait him. Maybe contact him and say I have some similar art. At least try to start a conversation.”
“Okay.” It’s not nothing.
“In the meantime, I’ll keep trying to find out who he is and who runs this auction group. Let me send you the picture we took of the painting. It’s from the eighteen hundreds, I think. Supposedly one of the first paintings of Snow White. If I hear anything else, I’ll let you know.”
Two minutes later my WhatsApp notification lights up, and I click it. The painting pops up immediately. I stare at it, shocked to fuck.
A young woman reclines on a bed, surrounded by a group of small, curious men.
She’s not like the Disney Snow White. She has none of that innocence; her beauty is seductive. She’s lying in an almost sexual pose and smiling a little as she watches the men watching her.
It could be Adriana. The likeness is intense and uncanny.
Same long dark hair, so thick and shiny. Same slim build. Those large almond eyes, long lashes, upturned nose, and a small mouth, with softly full lips.
Holy fuck.
Alexis enters the room. “Is all okay?”
I wave him over. “Come look at this.”
All my worries about Hana are forgotten for now.
He strides to me and glances down at my phone.
“Who does that remind you of?”
He stares at it then looks at me. “Adriana.”
“She has a buyer. A man who goes by the name of The Prince has stated he will pay two million dollars right now, so he can have her—no bidding. This guy, this fucking Prince freak, also asked Damen and the Greeks to source this painting for him a few years ago.”
“So this guy wants a particular woman. He wants the woman in that painting.”
“Yes, he wants Adriana because she looks like the sick image in his head of a living, breathing version of a work of art he’s obsessed with, maybe. Or, did he see Adriana first and then buy the art?”
He blows out a long breath. “Either way, we need to find this man.”
“You were telling me only a few days ago to be cautious because this could start a war on a new front. Jinx has said the same. Yuri too.”
“I know, man, but I've seen the way you look at her. This is personal now.”
“It's not personal,” I reply with a knee-jerk instinct to deny.
“Whatever you say, boss. Either way, we said that we'd keep her safe, and we have to honor that, right?”
“Yes, we do. I'm going to have to go and pay my father a visit sooner rather than later. Jacob needs to know what's going on.”
“Do you want me to keep an eye on her while you're gone?”
“No, I'm going to take her with me. She can spend time with my mother and Nataliya while I speak to Jacob.”
“Right, but it's nothing personal, of course.” He smirks, all cocky and arrogant.
“You know, that expensive dentistry you invested in would be a real waste of money if it all got smashed out of your mouth.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “They say there’s only one thing worse than a fool in love.” He strolls out of the room, pausing by the door to throw over his shoulder, “And that's a fool who doesn't know he's in love.”
“I'm not in love.” The words fall on deaf ears as the door closes behind him.
Alexis is about the only person in this world I would let speak to me in such a way, and he might be joking, but there's a truth behind his words. I know that I'm not in love with this woman. I also know I could be. So very easily. It's what the hell I do about that which has me so churned up.
I stalk out of the gym and go hunt down Adriana. I find her in her room, and thankfully she's changed. She's now wearing a pair of loose jeans and a navy T-shirt. Her hair hangs down around her shoulders in soft waves, and she's wearing a slick of gloss on her lips and what looks like a coat of mascara on her already thick lashes.
I want to lick that lip gloss right off of her. I don't, of course. The beast is caged for now.
“I need to go and speak to my stepfather, and I would like for you to come with me. I don't want to leave you here on the boat alone.”
“Will your family be okay with me coming to their house?” she asks.
“Yes, of course. I'll need to speak with Jacob alone, but you can hang out with my mother and Nataliya. They should both be around at this time of day.”
She turns behind her as if to reach for something and then sighs. “I keep forgetting that I'm not a fully fledged human any longer, and I don't have a phone, a wallet, or a purse.”
She rolls her eyes dramatically and walks by. She keeps grousing about this phone and wallet situation, and I can't help with that. For the moment, having a phone would be far too dangerous for her and for me. I can get her a purse, though. Her new clothes and accessories should be delivered today.
I pick three men to come with us on the tender and phone ahead to request my driver be waiting at the docks. Then we take the launch boat and head across the bay. I don't see the appeal of living on a yacht personally. I would rather have the comforts of a brick-and-mortar home around me. Perhaps it's different if one were living in the South of France, or maybe the South Pacific. Here, however, I prefer being in the city.
We pull up to the compound, and after the security check, instead of going to my home, I head straight to the main house. The door opens, and the housekeeper smiles warmly at me.
“Welcome home, Mr. Baranov,” Juliana says.
“Juliana, how many times do I have to say, it's Dimitri.”
She gives me a soft smile and a demure dip of her head, but I know that the next time she addresses me she will call me Mr. Baranov.
“Your father is in the study,” she says. Her eyes flicker past me and glance interestedly at Adriana.
“Is my mother here?”
“Yes, she is in the kitchen with Nataliya. They are baking.”
I do an exaggerated double take. “Nataliya is baking?”
Juliana lets out a small gurgle of laughter and then slams her mouth shut as if she's just committed a crime.
My stepsister is the worst cook I've ever come across. We used to dread the day of the week when she would bring home whatever concoction she had created in class during her cookery lessons. We had to endure some absolutely dreadful meals on those days. Worst of all, we all pretended it was great food because we didn't want to hurt her feelings, and that just made her more keen to keep bringing these offerings home.
“She's become much more interested in it these last few weeks,” Juliana says. “I think it might be something to do with a boy.”
“God help him if that's the case,” I say drolly.
“Would you like a drink?”
“Not for me, thank you, Juliana. I'll take a drink with my father in the study. Adriana?”
“Tea please,” Adriana says.
“Do you like milk or sugar?”
“Just black is perfect; thank you.”
I guide Adriana into the kitchen with my hand on the small of her back, and then pull it away as if I've been burned. I can't keep touching her as if she's mine. I can't keep acting as if we're in a relationship. That's not what this is.
My mother looks up from the bowl in front of her, elbow deep in flour. A huge smile splits her warm face. “Dimitri!” she exclaims. “What a delight.”
“Bro,” Nataliya says with a lot less enthusiasm.
I don't take it personally. I'm still Nataliya’s larger than life hero big brother, but she's knee-deep in boy related moodiness it seems at the moment.
They both look beyond me, and their eyes widen at the same time. It's almost comical to witness. It's no surprise that they look so shocked. “Mom, Nataliya, this is Adriana.”
My mother pulls her arms from the mixing bowl and wipes them hastily on a tea towel before coming over and extending her hand. She shakes Adriana’s hand warmly and then pulls her in for a quick hug. “Nice to meet you,” she says.
“You too,” Adriana replies.
Juliana arrives with Adriana’s tea, and she's pulled into the kitchen and the realm of the women. I take the opportunity to slip away. Adriana will be fine with my mother and Nataliya. They will realize who she is. Jacob doesn't keep many secrets from my mother.
I reach the study and knock on the door, then step inside. Jacob isn't alone. Virgil is sitting in a chair in front of the desk, smoking a cigar. “Son, this is a nice surprise,” Jacob says. He steps around the desk and claps me on the shoulder. “Scotch?”
I nod and take the drink he pours for me, even though it's early in the day. Frankly, I need it.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Jacob sits down and sips his drink.
“I found something out about the girl. The one I'm keeping on the yacht.”
“You mean the one who isn't Dorian’s girlfriend?” Virgil says. “I thought the whole point was to make sure we kept some of Dorian’s women for show. Why keep her if she's not his girlfriend?”
“Because,” I say, “we know he waived one million dollars in debts owed to him for her.”
“And?” Virgil says.
“She's definitely worth something to him. He was going to sell her to an auction, and that’s when things took a turn. Some guy has requested to buy her directly—no bidding— for two million dollars.”
“Jesus Christ.” Jacob whistles. “I need to see this woman.”
“He has very specific tastes,” I say.
“Specific how?” Virgil asks.
I take out my phone and show my father and Virgil the painting of Snow White reclining. “He wants a woman who looks exactly like this.”
“And does she?” Jacob asks.
“It could be a painting of Adriana herself,” I say.
“How weird.” Jacob scratches his cheek. “Some people are fucking freaky. I mean, the painting is of a beautiful woman, but who becomes obsessed with a picture?”
“Might be the other way around,” I say. “He might have seen Adriana and then the picture. Was obsessed with her first.” I scratch my chin, not liking discussing this in front of Virgil but I have little choice. “I want to move the party up to in a few days, and then I want off that yacht and back here. I need to have more protection for what I want to do.”
“Which is?” Jacob asks.
“I want to show Adriana off. I don’t simply mean on the yacht amongst our kind; I mean at the clubs, in front of the whole city. We will get papped, and she’ll be seen by many people. Maybe some of the people who run the auction will see her, or even this guy. Damen is trying to entrap this dude too, but I want to explore all options and try to flush him out.”
“Does this mean we could end up in a confrontation with this other party?” Virgil says. “This auction group obviously is an extra threat, but also this man might be. If you do as you say and parade this girl around town, it's not only going to infuriate Dorian’s remaining soldiers, but presumably this other person, and we have no idea who he is. Is that correct?”
“That pretty much sums it up,” I say. “At least, if I do this, we can flush him out. Dorian’s crew is a busted flush, and so far the auction cabal have no idea I have Adriana. If they did, I’d have been off that yacht immediately. Damen is monitoring their chatter.”
Virgil and Jacob look at one another, and they have one of those silent conversations with their eyes that longtime colleagues and close family friends sometimes do.
“Do you think we should let her go?” Virgil asks.
He’s speaking to Jacob, but I answer. “Absolutely not. Firstly, I kept her with me on your orders.” I hold my father's gaze. “So now, she's my responsibility. She has nothing . No one. Her own fucking stepmother sold her. I can't just let her go; she would be in danger.”
“So fucking cold,” Jacob says, shaking his head. “To do that to your own.”
“She has no money or identification, and she can't go home. There's no way I'm just dumping her on the streets. If you ask me to do that, you might as well ask me to shoot her in the head.”
“I understand where you're coming from,” Virgil says. “The problem is, we can't start another war on another front while we're dealing with Dorian and the remnants of his gang. Nobody's found Ari yet; he's in the wind. Dorian’s been sitting at the cabin for days. I started to work him over after it was clear you weren’t going to be there anytime soon.”
I glare at him. “It’s been three fucking days, Virgil, and I have already spent some time with him right at the start of this shit.”
He holds his hands up. “Not having a go, my friend. Simply saying Dorian’s not said all that much. He's alive, but by the time you get around to interrogating him, that may have changed.”
“I've been busy on the yacht. How is your daughter? Is she feeling better?”
I don't need to add that the only reason he knows how his daughter is, is because of me. If I hadn't rescued her, she'd still be on that cursed boat.
“She's fine; thank you. You know I appreciate what you did for her and for us. I’d do the same for any of you. This is different, though, Dimitri. This isn't a girl we know. She isn't one of us. I don't see why we can't discuss what would be the best thing for us in this situation. Which may be letting her go.”
“We can discuss it,” I say calmly. “I'm simply stating there is no way I am dropping her onto the streets alone and leaving her. It's not an option.”
“Then I guess we need to figure out exactly who is trying to buy her, don't we?” Jacob takes an easy sip of his whiskey as he regards me. “After all, if we're going to war, we need to know who the enemy is.”
“What's the immediate plan?” Virgil loosens his tie and pulls it away from his collar slightly as he addresses Jacob, freezing me out. “Do you agree with the kid going around town with this girl and being photographed?”
The kid? Fuck him. This kid saved his fucking daughter.
I don't let the anger show on my face. Always keep your cards close to your chest. I learned that as a young man. In fact, I learned that as a child, when I had to keep things from my ex-stepfather in Italy.
“I'm not sure that would still be wise,” Jacob says. “I get wanting to flush these people out of the woodwork, but it’s risky when we don't know who this man is. Do we want to give him a heads-up that she's with us?”
“You were the one who told me to take the yacht and to be photographed with some of the women.” I'm losing my patience now.
“You still got the boat, and everybody knows that.” Jacob shrugs. “Keep the girl if it matters to you so much. We will let them know that you have the boat, and you and her come back here after the party and just lay low until we figure out who this guy is.”
“I still want to try this,” I say. “I don't want to stay on the boat beyond the next couple of nights. The plan I've put in place with Alexis and Yuri is that we hold the party as initially discussed, and we invite everyone from our group and beyond. We borrow a few girls from Virgil’s clubs and pretend that they were Dorian’s women. I have Adriana on my arm for the night. We let it get back to the streets. Two things happen. The people out there know we will take everything they have if they screw with us. Scorched earth, remember.”
Jacob nods.
“It also might mean we can find out where some of Dorian’s remaining men are hiding. There will be a lot of people with their ears to the ground at that party. I’ll provide the drink and coke, Virgil the girls, and then we let them talk.”
Jacob nods. “It won’t do any harm.”
“Immediately after, I want to move back here. After which, I'm going to make the bigger entrance with Adriana on the social scene. I'll take her to one of my clubs, walk right in the front door. I’ll phone round some of the Bay areas newspapers to give them a heads-up. That way we will be in the gossip pages the next day.”
I sip my drink and enjoy the burn.
“I think Ari will make a break for it,” I say. “He’s going to know he’s in deep shit if he can’t deliver that girl to those men. He’ll try to run, or he might even try to talk to us, to make a deal.”
“It makes sense,” Jacob says.
“What about the mystery man?” Virgil leans forward and scratches at the tip of his nose. “Dangling this woman that he wants in front of him in the pages of newspapers could mean he steps out of the woodwork before we know who he is and before we know what kind of backing he has. Seems like a hasty move to me.”
“That's why I want to stay here,” I say. “He's not going to attack here, is he? Fifteen guards, guard dogs, drones. Security cameras. This place is a fortress. If I’m seen with her and then go to ground here, we're untouchable.”
“I suppose it depends just how powerful this man is,” Virgil says.
“Do you know the best thing about our living situation?” Jacob asks.
I'm not sure if he's asking me or Virgil. I shake my head.
“It isn’t the fact that we live on a compound; it’s that we live on a compound that's very visible. We're in the middle of a city. Three blocks away from here is one of the largest police stations in the state. A lot of the police in that police station are our friends.”
I smile slowly. I’ve never thought of it this way before.
“In fact, many of them are on the payroll. We aren’t Pablo Escobar hiding away in a compound in the jungle. Nobody can come and raid us here easily. The cops would be here in minutes, and the cops would be on our side. We’re hiding in plain sight, you might say. That means that my son’s plan is valid.” Jacob looks at Virgil calmly and holds his gaze. “I don't think this person who is after the woman is going to raid our compound. Not when he could have a posse of San Francisco PD breathing down his neck within minutes.”
“It still means that the minute you leave the security of this compound you're a target,” Virgil says. “And so is she.”
“I know, but at least this way I'm going to get him to act. I doubt he's going to come here, but he might start making inquiries. He might start asking about who I am. That’s the kind of chatter that our friends in Greece could pick up. At the moment we have no idea who he is, and we have no trail to follow, but if there's talk on the dark web, talk about me, and talk about Adriana, that gives Damen something to watch out for. I want this guy to start asking questions. I want him to start making waves. That's the only way we're going to figure out who he is.”
I sip my drink and stand. “Can I leave Adriana with you for a while?”
My stepfather smiles. “Of course. Where are you going?”
“I'm going to pay Dorian a visit.” I turn to Virgil and give him a sadistic smile. “Seeing as you're keen for me to get to work on the guy, why don't you come?”
Virgil shifts in his seat, but there's a vicious gleam in his dark eyes. “I’ve already given him a good hiding, but you know what, I really would quite like to pay him a visit again and see the master at work.”
“I bet you would,” I say.
After all, Dorian is the piece of crap who took Virgil’s daughter. I'm not offering this from the goodness of my heart; I'm offering it because I want Virgil on my side. If I give him this and let him have the satisfaction of seeing Dorian broken, begging for mercy, and screaming for help, then I hope he’s going to be less of a pain in my ass.
“Your sister and mother are baking,” Jacob says. “I was planning to throw some meat on the grill. Why doesn't she stay with us for a meal, while you two head out to the cabin?”
“It sounds like a perfect plan,” I say.
As we leave his study and walk down the hallway, I poke my head into the kitchen and beckon Adriana over. “I need to go somewhere, and I'll be a couple of hours. You'll be safe here with my family. Stay with them and have some lunch. Make yourself at home. I'll pick you up later this afternoon, and we'll head back to the boat.”
Her face twists in surprise and what looks like anxiety. “I don't know them,” she whispers.
“You don't need to know them. All you need to know is they're good people, and they'll take care of you. My sister is a sweetheart, and my mother is the gentlest soul on God's green earth. You'll be fine. It's just lunch. I won't be long; I promise. Do this for me. It's important that I go with Virgil now and try to find out some information.”
She bites her lip, and I can see the tension in her features, but she nods. Her gaze is brave and resolute. I can't stop myself. Even though I know that my father, Virgil, and my mother even more so, will see this and make all sorts of assumptions from it, I lean in and kiss the top of her head. “Good girl,” I murmur. Then I turn on my heel and walk down the corridor, Virgil following me.
As we head out the door and into the bright light, he says in a low voice, “I get it now.”
“Don't take anything from that quick interaction. I’m just trying to put her at ease. She's terrified, and she sees me as a safe haven.”
“I'm not talking about that moment between you,” he clarifies. “I mean now that I've seen her, I get it.” He stops walking and faces me, his expression guileless. “Kid, if I was thirty years younger and single, I think I'd burn the world down to save her too.”
I don't say anything because what can I say to that?
The men I brought with me follow as we drive out the gate, but I call them and tell them to turn around. I want them on Adriana, even though my father has plenty of security. It never hurts to have more.
I can take care of myself. I call Alexis and tell him that I want Jinx and Yuri at the cabin in thirty minutes.
“Do you want me too, boss?”
“No, I need you to keep working on finding out everything you can. Get in touch with Damen and make sure he has your contact details. Anything you find, share with him, and ask him to do the same.” I hang up and focus on the road.
Virgil is tense beside me. “How badly is he beaten?” I ask.
“Not badly enough.”
“We need him alive,” I remind Virgil. I get it; if he’d taken my daughter, I wouldn’t be able to hold back.
“I know that.” His voice has a bite to it. “You think I can't handle myself? Been doing this longer than you.”
“No, not at all. I just know that if it had been my daughter, I'd want to kill him. Let me work him over for a while and try to get the information I need. Once I do, you can take him right to the very edge of sanity and death.”
“That sounds like a good compromise,” Virgil says.
I grip the steering wheel. I might find it hard not to murder Dorian after what he did to my Littleblue.