Chapter 6 Signatures
Signatures
Mikko
The phone rang a couple times before Dr. Layla ?ofia finally picked up. “I’m almost scared to ask what you need, Mikko.” Her greeting was blunt yet warm.
“Who says I need anything,” he responded, the Bluetooth device in his helmet making it easier to talk and ride.
“Anytime I see your name on the caller ID, I know.”
“Ouch, I thought we were friends.”
Her laugh rent through the small space inside his helmet. “Oh, Mikko, we both know our professions don’t allow us to have those. But all jokes aside, I do believe I told you I owed you one after taking care of my ex.”
“He was a big guy…” Mikko said.
“I know, I know, and he took a lot of your men to lift his dead weight,” she joked. “Hurry up and ask your favor though, I’m between appointments right now.”
Downshifting, Mikko carefully formulated his question. “How soon would you be able to get DNA results back on a piece of gum?”
“Hmm, how old is it?”
“A couple days.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard, bring it in and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Are you available in”—Mikko checked the clock on his bike’s dash—“seventeen minutes?”
“Only for you.”
“Good, I’ll be there in fifteen.”
With a friendly scoff, Dr. ?ofia hung up, not one to question his demands.
GRIPPING HIS HELMET, balaclava, and the bag containing the chewed gum, Mikko waited in the too small seats at Dr. ?ofia’s office.
She primarily worked for the police department, running tests and analyses for them, but occasionally Mikko could sway her to work for him. Tonight was one of those nights.
Like she’d mentioned, her ex-boyfriend had been a dipshit, giving her trouble when all she’d wanted was for him to leave her alone, so Mikko and his men took care of it. He was also notorious for cheating at a couple of Mikko’s establishments, so it benefited both parties.
“Just taking the trash out,” he’d told her once it was done. That was the only time he’d seen the doctor get emotional.
The hour was growing late, but Dr. ?ofia liked to stay after hours, catching up on work and letting her mind relax as she lost herself in her tasks. Mikko could relate in some ways.
After buzzing him in, he waited for her to appear, fidgeting in the quiet space, mind loud. Any minute, one of the wooden doors lining the room would open and the doctor would lead him back to her lab.
A buzz came from his phone.
Cristiano: Where are you
Of course he’d be the one to notice his absence.
Cristiano: And don’t lie, I have your location
A fact he’d been pressured into giving up for the sake of safety. But now, Mikko wondered if that’d been a ruse so his friend could spy on him.
Calling in a favor :Mikko
Cristiano: Care to loop me in
No :Mikko
Cristiano: You’re such an ass
Cristiano: I also have favors I can call in and find out
I’ll tell you later, it might be nothing :Mikko
As he sent the message, a door opened and Dr. ?ofia stood there.
Her brunette hair was graying prematurely near her temples, the color noticeable from the tight bun she kept her hair in.
This job hadn’t been easy on her body. She was short and fiery—a fact Mikko had discovered accidentally one evening when trying to push her for an expedited forensic analysis.
Her eyes were dark, damn near black, as she watched him.
Tucking his phone away, he rose from his seat and walked forward.
“Thanks for takin’ me in this late doc,” he said, brushing past her.
“I would say ‘anytime,’ but I wouldn’t mean it,” she replied, a slight smile evident in her tone as she stepped into rhythm beside him. “You remember the way back?”
“Yeah.”
Taking a couple turns, Mikko ended up in the sterile lab, the room devoid of colors and filled with equipment he had no idea the names of.
“Let’s see the sample,” ?ofia said while donning gloves.
Pulling it from his jacket pocket, he wished to suddenly hide his face.
Layla didn’t know what this was about, but he did and it made him skittish.
This little game he was playing was for his eyes only, but he was desperate.
The internet could’ve helped him with his sleuthing, but that’d take too long.
This testing would still take some time, but it’d be accurate.
And that was what Mikko wanted at the end of the day.
No guessing or fumbling through social media. He wanted concrete facts.
“Do I want to know what this is about?” Layla asked, prepping her equipment and eyeing the plastic bag.
“Uh, probably not.”
“I figured. Well, this will take a while,” the plastic bag crinkled as she opened it, “so you can either wait here and get comfortable, or I’ll call you when it’s ready.”
Holding up his helmet, Mikko made his decision. “I’ll be running some other errands. You know where to find me.”
“Of course.”
Before crossing through the lab’s door, he glanced over his shoulder. “Thanks again, Layla.”
Her nod was the only affirmation she gave, and he was on his way.
Little did he know the name flashing across his phone screen a couple hours later, nighttime at its peak, would change everything.
* * *
Anika
Anika Simmons.
Her signature was scrawled across one of the many documents passed across her desk.
As a financial analyst, every day contained similar tasks letting her brain settle and focus.
An attribute she didn’t usually have outside of these four walls.
Most of the time, her mind was always running, thinking, and scheming.
It was the nature of her inner workings—her personality. It boiled down to her innate need to always be ten steps ahead, or the smartest in the room. If she could understand her environment, threats and deviations could be neutralized.
But each time she wrote her name, a piece of her withered away, a burning hate simmering beneath her skin. There had been a time when she was Anika Naidu, her family’s surname indicating her culture, her identity, and her unwavering love for her parents who’d given her the world.
And she’d thrown it all away.
In the name of safety, she internally reminded herself.
The erasure of herself and her heritage had been a necessary evil, even if it did make a piece of herself wither away. It was too late to ruminate on that now, she had tasks set before her to complete.
Gray lined the walls of her office, the drab color seemingly everywhere.
In her attempt to alleviate the color, she’d brought in some plants from home.
Foliage always had a way of softening the edges of a room and bringing a calming tranquility to Anika’s racing mind.
Gardening was one of her favorite pastimes, so the small amount of plants she had here spoke of her love for them.
Her coworkers had described her space to be more akin to a forest than an office, but Anika hardly constituted the twenty various potted plants anywhere near comparable to the dense underbrush of a woodland.
Her leather chair squeaked as she settled in, crossing her legs and rearranging the stationary on her desk between assignments. To an outsider, things might look scattered, but to her everything was in its place.
Sighing, she picked up the stack of papers and straightened them, the edges clacking against the top of her desk. Setting those aside, she realized she had a few moments before her next meeting and decided to use her time wisely.
Clicking through multiple real estate listings, Anika searched for something specific to her needs. She already owned a house, but a small piece of her yearned to test the waters when it came to owning more real estate around the city.
Deep down, Anika didn’t care what property she obtained as long as it was one with the name Romanov Real Estate emblazoned across the listing.
She might be a little vindictive and a little curious, but after meeting Mikko at the club the other night, she realized all her preconceived notions about him were correct.
Arrogant, wealthy, stoic, and closed off to name a few.
But of course she was right, she’d taken her time observing and analyzing until she’d reached her final decision. As always. Now it was time to approach Mikko Romanov, an untouchable real estate mogul.
He was someone she loathed by association.
Everything he and his company stood for disgusted her.
She wasn’t the only one either, the city of Portland feeling his effects as prices increased at his behest. But beneath that, his ugly interior lurked.
As everyone knew he—well, his father—was the source of climbing rents, they also murmured about the abominable business deals happening after dark.
As if stealing people’s livelihoods wasn’t enough.
Or in her case, lives.
Looking back, Anika should have been nervous, but her insightfulness and precautionary research had eliminated all doubt in her mind. She knew him as well as he knew himself, if she had to guess.
Maybe even better…
And that was how she liked it.
Her day job was more analytical and data based, but the same tactics could be applied elsewhere. Her sure fingers and smug smile were evidence of that.
If I can’t have Alek, then his son will have to do.
Beyond her cunning plans, Anika was also fueled by rage. What was there to be afraid of when anger had burnt through every fiber of her being? She had nothing to lose.
Mikko’s reputation proceeded him just like all the ways he liked to torture and interrogate men.
He was known for being ruthless, outgrowing his father’s shadow, but Anika saw him for who he really was: a man desperately trying to find his purpose.
Someone who had never met someone like her: a self-assured business woman who didn’t want him for money or status.
No, she yearned to entice him into a larger game, starting with…
Selecting a remote warehouse on the outskirts of town, near the river, Anika infilled all the necessary fields to request a tour of the property for tomorrow after she got off work.
While she had no intentions of buying the run down building—its land and location more valuable than its structure—she wanted to see if he would show up.
Anika couldn’t picture him, a stuffy suit fitted to his frame, meeting with her out there, rusty nails and broken windows a backdrop behind his cleanliness.
But a girl could wish now couldn’t she?
The thought made her chuckle, his designer shoes stepping into a puddle of stagnant water and splashing up onto his expensive slacks. Maybe, if anything, it would lift her spirits all while letting her see inside his head.
Settling back into her office chair, the midday sun blinded her as it streamed in through the glass, but it did little to deter her daydreams. When Anika saw something she wanted, she fucking got it.