Chapter 3 - Viktor
I hadn't seen her arrive, and I hadn't been expecting her to be just inside the door. My heart leaped into my throat at the sound of her shriek, and I felt guilty. Then the awkward conversation and silence. I see her shuffle from foot to foot, obviously scared of me. Why is she scared? I helped rescue her. It's silly, really.
“So, how are classes going?” I ask tersely. She looks completely uncomfortable, and it takes everything not to demand answers from her in rapid-fire succession. She casts her eyes down as though she's ashamed and I press on. “What's wrong? Is someone bothering you at school?”
“No,” she says quickly. “Everything is fine.” There's that smile again. It doesn't seem genuine at all. It doesn't reach her eyes, which seem dead to me. It makes me wonder what the Vultures put her through when they had her. I hope it isn't something serious. I mean, you don't just get traumatized from kidnapping. I've been kidnapped before. It was no big deal.
“So, how are classes going, then?”
“They're going fine,” she says quietly. “It's just strange being back is all. I was gone for so long, and people ask questions.”
“Just use the answers we provided for you. You had a family emergency, which turned out not to be serious, and you were able to come back,” I say calmly, as though this is the most obvious answer. She looks at her feet again, and I don't know what to say. Silence falls again, and I fidget with my pants. “Are you settling into the mansion, okay?”
“Yes, it's very nice, thank you,” she says, seeming timid as though she's worried I'm going to strike her at any moment. Which I would never do. I guess she's just spooked. I suppose I kind of understand, this kind of lifestyle isn't for everyone and if you're new to it, it could be quite a shock. Still, I helped save her. Why would I then hurt her? Surely, she knows that.
“The most important thing is that you're safe,” I say quietly. “And that you know that.”
She eyes me suspiciously, and I can't blame her entirely. She went to a casino with a friend and was immediately kidnapped because they thought she was associated with us. It doesn't exactly inspire a sense of security. She nods slowly, seeming to measure her words. “I know I'm safe here,” she says.
“Good, that's all that matters. I'll leave you to study then. I have to get on with other things. I just wanted to check on everything,” I say again, feeling useless. She nods and walks away from me toward the room she's staying in. I watch her go, feeling helpless. She doesn't seem to feel any better with my reassurances. Goddammit, I never fumble this much with girls. I'm normally so confident. There's something about her that catches me off guard. It makes me uneasy and sets me on edge.
I go to the security room and open the door. The guards are seated in front of the monitors that watch the mansion, and I step in. “Everything okay in here?” I ask. Roman has high-end security but there's no harm in checking in on them from time to time. Keeps them on their toes.
One guard turns to me. “Everything is great, Boss. The grounds are quiet. There's been no suspicious activity in or around the estate and the patrols are all checking in timeously.”
“Good,” I say. “I want you to keep an eye on our guest. Make sure she doesn't get into any trouble,” I add.
“Yes, Sir, is she a problem?” he asks.
“No, not a problem. But an important guest and she isn't used to our lifestyle. I want her to be guarded wherever she is on the property. I don't want anyone to be able to hurt her.”
The guard eyes me out but nods. “Yes, Sir.”
I nod. “I'm going to inspect the patrols. Don't let them know I want to make sure they're paying attention.”
“Yes, Sir,” the guard says, turning back to the monitors.
I leave and walk out the front door. I walk to the first post and find a guard standing there with his hands crossed in front of him. “Anything to report?”
“No, Sir,” he says, stiff as a board.
“Good.”
I go and check in at the next post and the one after that. I stop at every post and check in with the guards, creeping around quietly to make sure none of them are slacking off, but they're all paying attention and all keeping watch. I feel better knowing no one can hit Roman's place easily. It's not to say they can't hit it at all, but it won't be easy. Riley is safe here. I am good for my word.
I go back to my car and leave the estate, driving back to my offices in the city. The traffic is okay, not backed up like usual, and it gives me time to think about Riley. Her eyes, which seem so lifeless. I wonder what's really going on in that head of hers.
I arrive at my office without incident, and the question is still plaguing me. She's a complete mystery. Shut off from me without any clue as to what's going on. I take the elevator up to my office, where I know I have meetings to attend, but first, I need to figure out how to get Riley out of my head so I can focus. I approach my office and see my own guard, Martin, standing there with his arms crossed in front of him.
“Hello, Sir,” he says in his rough, deep voice.
“Martin,” I greet him. I walk into my office, stop, and walk back out. “Do you know the guest that's staying at Roman's house? The one we rescued from the Vultures?”
Martin nods. “Yes, Sir, I know her.”
“I want you to keep tabs on her the next few days. Tell me what she gets up to, who she interacts with, and what she's like around others. I want to know everything, Martin.” I look at him seriously.
“Yes, Sir, do you know where she is right now?” he asks.
“At Roman's place. Don't let her know that you're watching her. She's kind of jumpy.” I walk back into my office and sit behind my desk. I hear his footsteps recede down the hall. I check my calendar and I see that I have to arrange supply runs with some of the Mexican drug traffickers. Of course, that's not what is written down, it's all in code. I would never be so stupid as to leave that kind of evidence lying around for the DEA to find. No, it takes one search and if they find shit like that, I'm toast. My family would be in ruin.
I wait about an hour before two men show up at my door. “Mr. Milov?”
“You must be Mr. Garcia and Mr.—” I pause, looking at the other young man.
“Mr. Lopez, my cousin,” Mr. Garcia says. “May we come in?”
“Yes, come in.” I gesture toward two chairs. “Do you want something to drink? Some scotch or whiskey?”
“Whiskey, please,” Garcia says.
I pour them each a fifth of whiskey and hand it to them before I pour my own from the same bottle, just to show them it hasn't been tampered with. I sit at my desk and look at them. “Gentlemen, I believe we can help each other. My family is looking to set up a supply run from Mexico to Las Vegas—something that won't be easily traced.”
They sip their whiskey, listening to my proposition. “We will gladly give a cut to whoever can guarantee us a good supply run that won't be ambushed by the DEA. Now, you're supposedly the best in the industry, which is why I've asked to meet you. I'm willing to give you a ten percent cut of our profits for a good supply run.”
“A good supply run is hard to come by,” Garcia says. “It takes a lot of work and monitoring, not to mention greasing of hands. Ten percent won't cover all of that.” He downs his whiskey and sets the glass on my table. “Now, twenty-five percent, we can talk.”
“Fifteen,” I say. “Which will be very generous, considering our profits.”
Garcia looks at his cousin, then shakes his head. “Twenty, and we have a deal,” he says.
I nod. “I'll have my guys draw up a contract. Twenty percent it is, but I expect there to be no hiccups.”
“There won't be any,” Lopez finally speaks before downing his whiskey.
They leave and I don't give them another thought other than to contact my cousin, a lawyer, to arrange the paperwork. It will all look legal and technical and he will get the details from Garcia about what the supply run will be 'shipping'. It could be anything from fruit to technology. I spend the next few days going over reports, but my mind is on Riley. I am tempted to message Martin and ask him what she's been up to, but I know he will report to me at the end of the week. Riley stays at the mansion over the weekend, so there's no point in watching her there.
Time seems to tick by so slowly. I want to see her again, and I don't know why. I can't understand this obsession I have with her. When Friday finally approaches, I wake up in an excellent mood. I know Martin will meet me after work today once Riley is home safely so that I can hear his report. That's why I'm surprised to find him standing outside my office door, waiting first thing in the morning.
“What's wrong?” I ask, walking into my office. He walks in after me and shuts the door.
“I followed the girl like you asked, but I wasn't the only one.” He takes out his phone and scrolls through it until he shows me a photo of a familiar-looking face.
“I know him. I don't know where from, but I know him. And he's been following Riley around campus this whole week?”
“Longer possibly, he seems to know her schedule well,” Martin says. “His name is James, Jimmy to his friends. The Vultures Gang is where he used to call home.”
I look up sharply. “That's when I know the little weasel from. He's one of the lackeys. What's he doing following Riley around?”
“Something nefarious, I'm sure,” Martin says, taking his phone back and scrolling to another photo. “Just swipe left to see more.”
I swipe through and see that Martin has been thorough. I need to protect Riley from this Jimmy. As I reach the end of the photos, there's one of her with her eyes downcast. She's trying so hard to hide from the world. It breaks my heart to see her looking so sad. I want to make her feel safe. I want her to feel like she can take on the world. I don't know if she was like that before all this happened, but from what Gwen has said, she was quite lively.
She used to like to go out and do things, but as far as I know, she goes to campus and back home and doesn't do anything else. I need to fix this situation. I look at Martin. “At least she'll be home this weekend with Roman and Gwen,” I say. “She'll have company and will be safe with the security there.”
“Security is lowered,” Martin says. “Some of the men went with Roman and Gwen on an impromptu holiday.” He looks at me seriously. “I can arrange more bodyguards to go over and keep an eye on her.”
“No, that'll draw attention to her. We can't let this Jimmy know we're onto him.”
Martin looks at me curiously. “What do you propose, then?”
I pace back and forth. I need a plan of action. Roman is always taking charge like Rigor and getting things done. I need to protect Riley. I pour myself a drink and sip it, trying to think of what I can do, but one persistent thought keeps surfacing. I need to make Riley a threat to Jimmy, someone he doesn't want to mess with. I need to diminish her appeal to him. Something that will cause him trouble and isn't worth the hassle. I need to send a clear and concise message to this little loser who’s clearly up to something.
I down my drink and grab my car keys. I push past Martin without giving him any further instructions. I take out my phone and send a text to my cousin. We start a brief chat as I head down to the car, which ends when I'm ready to drive. I need to go straight to Roman's mansion, where Riley will be. I know her classes end early today, so by the time I get through traffic, she should already be there. Curse Roman for going away. I try calling him, but it goes straight to voicemail. He must be flying, and his phone is on airplane mode. I try Gwen, but the result is the same. It solidifies my decision—I need to protect Riley, and this is the best way to do it. As I pull into the estate grounds, I see Riley's car parked in her usual spot, and I smile.