Chapter 8Valerian
8
Valerian
A couple of days later, killing time before my massage, I spend some rare downtime sprawled in a leather recliner, a glass of thirty-year-old Dewars in hand. The amber liquid catches the fading light as day gives way to night, making the whisky glint like liquid gold. It reminds me of Claire’s eyes, and I groan, remembering how it felt to have her hands on me last night. How I maintained any control is a mystery to me.
My phone buzzes, and I recognize the number of my contact in the District Attorney’s office. “Sheila, what do you have for me?”
Her voice crackles through the speaker. “Hello, Mr. Rustova. I have more information about Jay Bennett. The D.A.’s pushing for twenty-five years.”
I take a slow sip of my whiskey, savoring the burn. “And?”
“They’ll accept a plea. Ten to fifteen if the judge signs off. Of course, that’s contingent on his cooperation with the ongoing investigation,” she adds, her voice scratchy through the phone’s speaker.
I set down the glass on my mahogany desk, the crystal making a soft clink against the wood. Leaning forward in my leather chair, I press the phone closer to my ear. “Has Jay made a decision?”
“Not yet, but there’s more to the story.” Paper rustles on her end. “I’ve got the full report right here.”
I listen as Sheila lays out the details of Jay’s predicament. Her words paint a grim picture—a Petrov gambling den hidden behind a bodega in Little Odessa, the tables stacked with dirty money. Two friends had been with Jay that night—Derek Carmichael, a small-time thug with priors, and an unidentified woman in a black hoodie.
I tap my fingertips against the glass. “Let me get this straight. Bennett was playing poker with a bunch of thugs when the police stormed in?”
“Exactly,” she says. “Officer Martinez was first through the door, gun drawn. According to witnesses, Jay stood up, knocked over his chair, and started arguing about police brutality. Created quite the scene.”
“While this mystery woman slipped away.” The Dewars burns down my throat.
“Right, but here’s where it gets worse. Derek Carmichael pulled his piece and shot Martinez point-blank in the shoulder. The bullet shattered his collarbone and severed some nerves. Doctor says he’ll never regain full mobility.”
I drain the glass, ice cubes clinking. “And because Jay created the diversion that let Derek get close enough...”
“Accessory to attempted murder,” she finishes. “Plus gambling charges, resisting arrest—the works.”
I shake my head. “He’s an idiot, and now he’s facing accessory to attempted murder charges?”
“Exactly. If he testifies against the shooter, he can get the plea bargain. Otherwise, he’s facing the same charges and time.”
I shake my head, disbelief washing over me. “What a waste.”
“There’s one more thing, Valerian. The woman who escaped was picked up a few blocks later. She’s in jail but not expected to be charged in the attempted murder of the officer. Jay and Derek are facing the brunt.”
“Okay. Keep me informed if anything new comes up.” After hanging up, I shift in my chair, staring out at the Philadelphia skyline. Jay Bennett’s recklessness has finally caught up with him, and in spectacular fashion. The damage he’s done to his family, especially Claire…
She doesn’t deserve this burden. None of her family does.
I stand, pacing the length of my office. The plush carpet muffles my footsteps while I consider my options. I could intervene and use my influence to lessen Jay’s sentence, but at what cost? Would it truly help in the long run? He’s still an addict not facing his problems. I can’t see helping him off the hook, especially when his debt gives me leverage over his lovely sister.
A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. “Come in.”
Dmitri enters, his face grave. “Boss, I’ve got an update on the Petrov situation.”
I gesture for him to continue, returning to my desk.
Dmitri nods. “Remember that shipment we intercepted last month? Turns out it was just a decoy. The real goods made it through on a different route.”
I curse under my breath. Matvey’s cleverer than I gave him credit for. “Ramp up our surveillance on all Petrov operations. I want to know every move they make.”
“Already on it, boss.” With a respectful nod, he departs.
As Dmitri leaves, I down the last of my drink. The burn in my throat matches the fire building in my veins. I check my watch. It’s almost time for my massage appointment with Claire. I’m looking forward to her hands on my skin. I move to the adjoining bathroom to prepare for the session. My cock is trying to stiffen, and I’m doing my best to rein in that impulse. She’s supposed to be helping me relax, but that’s the last thing I feel around her.
A short time later, I settle onto the massage table, my face pressed into the cushioned headrest. The scent of eucalyptus oil fills the air as Claire’s hands begin working the knots from my shoulders. Her touch is firm yet gentle, easing the tension from my muscles.
“How’s that pressure?” she asks, kneading a particularly tight spot.
“Perfect,” I murmur, allowing myself to relax under her skilled hands.
As she works, I debate how much to reveal about her brother’s situation. Part of me wants to shield her from the harsh reality, but she deserves the truth since she’s already stuck paying off his debt to me. “I heard from my contact at the D.A.’s office today,” I say casually, turning my head slightly to gauge her reaction. “About your brother, Jay.”
Claire’s hands pause for a moment before resuming their steady rhythm. “Oh?” Her voice is carefully neutral.
I prepare myself for her response. “The charges are serious, Claire. He’s facing accessory to attempted murder of a police officer.”
Her fingers dig into my shoulder hard enough to make me wince. “What?” The word comes out as a strangled whisper.
I explain the raid on the Petrov gambling den, Jay’s drunken outburst creating a distraction, and his friend shooting the officer. With each detail, Claire’s movements become more tense and erratic.
“The D.A. is pushing for twenty-five years, especially since the officer will never be able to serve again, but there’s a plea deal on the table. Ten to fifteen if he cooperates with the investigation.”
Claire’s hands still completely. I can hear her ragged breathing in the silence. She finally says, “He’s probably too loyal and stupid to do that.”
“Either way, your brother’s going away for a long time,” I say, watching her carefully. “I’m sorry, Claire.”
She takes a shuddering breath then resumes the massage with mechanical precision. “I know,” she says flatly. “It doesn’t surprise me. At least he won’t be messing up our lives anymore.”
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by her ability to accept it so easily. “You seem resigned to this.”
Claire’s voice softens while she continues working the muscles of my back. “I just want to pay off his debt so my family can move on. Get past all of this.”
I roll onto my side, propping myself up on one elbow to look at her directly. Her face is a mask of forced calm, but I see the pain in her eyes. “And how are you holding up with all of this?”
She bites her lip, avoiding my gaze. “I’m fine. It’s not like this is the first time Jay’s been in trouble.”
“But it’s never been this serious before,” I press gently.
Claire’s composure cracks for a moment. “No,” she whispers. “It hasn’t.” She takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “I can’t fall apart now. My parents need me to be strong.”
I reach out, gently catching her wrist. “And who’s being strong for you?”
Her gaze clashes with mine, eyes wide with surprise at the question. For a moment, I see the vulnerability she’s trying so hard to hide. Then she pulls away, her professional mask sliding back into place.
“I don’t need anyone to be strong for me,” she says firmly. “I can handle this on my own.”
There’s a certainty in her words that grabs me. She’s willing to endure whatever it takes to protect her family. I study her, lightly brushing my fingers over her wrist before she pulls away to resume the massage. “You don’t always have to be so strong,” I say gently. “You can be angry at him, you know. You don’t have to hide it around me.”
Claire pulls her arm away, eyes flashing with defiance. “I’ll be angry when I want to,” she snaps. Without another word, she turns and walks out, leaving the massage unfinished.
I watch her go, my curiosity about her only deepening. The door closes behind her with a soft click, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Sitting up, I roll my shoulders, feeling the lingering warmth from Claire’s hands on my skin, along with the lingering traces of massage oil. Her abrupt departure leaves me unsettled. I’m not used to people walking away from me, especially not mid-conversation. It’s...refreshing, in a way.
I stand, stretching my arms above my head. The tension in my muscles has eased, despite the unfinished massage. I walk to the window, gazing out at the Philadelphia skyline. I don’t really see it, preoccupied as I am with a stubborn massage therapist, who refuses to bend to my will.
A knock at the door interrupts my musings. “Come in,” I call, not turning from the window.
Dmitri enters, his footsteps nearly silent on the plush carpet. “Boss, we’ve got a situation.”
I turn to face him, raising an eyebrow. “What kind of situation?”
“Our guys at the port intercepted a courier. He was carrying documents detailing the next three shipments.” Dmitri hands me a folder. “It looks like Matvey’s getting sloppy.”
I flip through the papers, a smile tugging at my lips. “Or he’s setting a trap. This is too convenient.”
Dmitri nods. “My thoughts exactly. What do you want to do?”
I close the folder, tapping it against my palm. “Set up surveillance on all the locations mentioned, but don’t interfere. Let’s see what Matvey’s game is.”
“Got it, boss.” He hesitates, his gaze flicking to the massage table. “Everything okay with the girl?”
I follow his gaze, remembering Claire’s defiant exit. “She’s...interesting. Didn’t take the news well about her brother.” I fill him in but realize it was more her reaction to my offer to let herself be genuine about her feelings in my presence that prompted her to scurry out. Not that I’m going to share that with Dmitri.
He nods and leaves, closing the door behind him. I return to the window, thoughts once more turning to my reluctant house guest. Claire Bennett is proving to be more of a challenge than I anticipated. The question is, do I enjoy the challenge or eliminate it?
The thought of Claire brings a smile to my face. Her fire, her determination... It’s been a long time since someone challenged me like this. Part of me wants to break her, to show her the futility of resisting me, but another part, a part I thought long buried, admires her strength.
As I prepare for bed, I look forward to my next encounter with Claire Bennett. She may think she can handle everything on her own, but she has no idea what she’s up against. I always get what I want in the end.