Chapter 6
Kirill
A wolf.
A natural born predator.
Even after days of being in New York, I continued to think about Dimitri’s comment. While I was considered a silent killer, often stalking my prey for days or even weeks at a time, right now the term vampire seemed more appropriate.
The last two nights had been all but sleepless, which was why I’d given up tonight, preferring to do some work that included checking the perimeter of the building without as much interference.
The complex of buildings took up an entire block, which allowed for a brisk walk and a few interesting performances.
Pictures had been taken, a report already written and emails sent to the two formal owners, Kazimir and Dimitri. All very professional and legitimate.
But not anything with regard to why I was parked in New York instead of enjoying time in my man cave at my house in Moscow.
I’d even done some research into the oil and gas market, yet I’d gone no further than to feed my curiosity.
With only a cursory glimpse in the Irish mob and with nothing standing out, I obviously wasn’t committed to the idea.
Why? Because I loathed the idea of an arranged marriage.
Maybe I was a new-fangled guy. At least I could laugh at myself.
As I walked into the hotel lobby bar, I yanked off my jacket, tossing it over my shoulder.
No longer was I surprised at the number of people enjoying lively conversations over full bottles of wine and wide glasses of cognac.
New York remained active almost all night long, bars often open until four.
This location remained open all night long, shifting to a coffee bar at four in the morning. Coffee, I didn’t need. Fake relaxation was a must. As I passed by the bar, the bartender immediately headed to where I was standing. “Mr. Aristov. What can I get you?”
True to Dimitri’s promise, I’d been allowed carte blanche on everything from use of an armored SUV and driver to a suite equipped with the finest liquors and coffees, as well as room service that would rival any five-star restaurant.
In addition, with a single phone call, I’d had a designer and his staff in my room providing an entirely new wardrobe and making needed adjustments.
A man could get used to the service provided. I’d given what I’d seen in Chateau Elegance an A+, which Kazimir had been happy to hear.
He’d settled in Fiji, which was an interesting choice, but he loved warmer weather. Sasha adored the ocean. So did I, which was why when feeling the sprinkles as I’d walked the block, I’d become annoyed. A chilly rain wouldn’t be good for my dark mood.
Heading into the bar was all about people watching. With no indication that anyone was paying real attention to my arrival, and the lack of any strange people at the hotel, my radar needed honing.
“Dalmore, Mark,” I told the bartender. While most men with distinguished tastes gravitated toward Macallan, I wasn’t most men. Hell, I was true beast, a wolf. Too bad I wasn’t a shifter.
“Excellent,” the older man said. “I’ll bring it to your table.”
“Thank you,” I said, starting to turn away. “Oh, and… How about some of those beer nuts?” I grinned since the combination was ridiculous.
“Absolutely, sir.”
My laugh was easier as I moved through the light crowd, finding a table near the smoked glass window overlooking the busy street. A perfect perch to study the crazies that had kept me interested. You could definitely see it all in New York.
The few days had been less than informative, but I was still hopeful after the few calculated inquiries I’d made with several of Dimitri’s trusted informants that the Ghost would realize the hunt was on.
After tossing my jacket on the chair across the table, I rolled up my sleeves before easing into the chair, settling into the soft leather and trying to relax.
That was more difficult than I’d expected.
Not only for the obvious reasons of being on the hunt, but also since my thoughts had constantly drifted away from the mission at hand.
To Vivian.
The woman had left a mark on my soul, even though there were those who could argue I didn’t have a soul.
“Here you are, Mr. Aristov. If you need anything else, let me know. Just so you are aware, there was someone asking about you earlier.”
“Someone?” I slowly lifted my gaze, studying his eyes. Whoever had approached him hadn’t raised any red flags. Plus, he had no knowledge of the Ghost. The fewer who knew the better.
“Six foot two. Brown hair. Dark eyes. No distinguishing features that I could see. High-dollar tailored suit, Italian in design. Gucci patent loafers. A watch that cost more than my apartment. A diamond ring on his pinky.”
As with every employee, he’d been taught that the details mattered. “Cash or credit?”
“Credit. Jim Smith.”
I chuckled and twirled the glass while studying the landscape and people outside. “Not his real name.”
“Absolutely not. I thought you’d want to know.”
“What exactly did he say?”
“That he thought he noticed an old friend and wondered if you were staying in the hotel. Of course I told him I had no idea. He tipped well, had one drink, and left without talking to anyone else.”
I mulled over what he’d said.
“Thanks, Mark. I appreciate it.” Was there a possibility an old friend had noticed my presence?
Unlikely. While I’d been in New York before, I’d done so for an entirely different reason than Bratva business.
Yes, I’d come in contact with several people, a couple of whom I’d become friendly with, but none that stuck out as a person I’d remember.
My mouth dry, I wrapped my fingers around the base. Every scrap of information could be important and necessary to store.
I sat back, scanning the sidewalk and people inside the bar, making mental note of everyone. At this point, not a single person was paying me any attention. They were simply enjoying an evening. Hell, nothing I wouldn’t mind.
Several untethered details had been going through my mind, reeling from images of Vivian back to the christening. I’d gone through the church myself the morning of the event, seeing nothing that would alarm me other than the number of ingress and egress locations.
Those had been covered, which left an employee who’d been involved with the church for long enough there’d been no red flags with the security checks. That being said, I was well aware that anyone could forge documentation. Hell, I’d done it before.
I took a dram of the smooth scotch, holding the liquid in my mouth before swallowing. There was no burn, the taste velvety and rich with a hint of dark chocolate. With the aroma lingering in my nostrils, my reflection didn’t stay on business for long.
I’d shared a cognac with Vivian that had the same aromatic notes.
Sighing, I laughed as I swirled the glass, also enjoying the prisms created by the light reflected off the glass. There was an uneasiness that had saturated my mind, creating tension that also didn’t help with the sleeplessness.
Every time I brought the glass to my lips, my arm flexed, the tattoo on my forearm catching my eye.
I placed the glass on the table, flexing and fisting my hand, which I’d done several times when Vivian had traced her finger along the colorful lines of the ink. She’d seemed fascinated by the design, acting as if in memorizing the details, she was learning more about me.
We’d purposely held superficial discussions, laughing and enjoying a connection that was far removed from my world, or hers for that matter. How fascinating that with my heightened concern about security, I hadn’t bothered asking what she did for a living.
Maybe for a change my dick had done the talking.
With a slight laugh, I brought the glass to my lips once again. As I did, a figure outside on the sidewalk caught my attention. He was admiring the building or the lights. I couldn’t tell which from where I was seated, nor should it matter.
There was no real reason the figure caught my eye other than my instincts were on high alert. His suit appeared off the rack, albeit at a high-class men’s clothing store. I couldn’t tell hair color considering the smoky glass darkened every shade.
He was well dressed, which also wasn’t unusual given the address of the hotel being in Manhattan.
However, when he unbuttoned his jacket, I was certain the flash indicated a weapon.
That in and of itself wasn’t anything too disconcerting.
However, I was no fool. There was enough information about the hotel and the owners out in the public that I wouldn’t put it past a number of enemies to make a list of security points.
Before I had a chance to consider going outside, a reflection caught my attention. Someone was approaching. Instantly, I bristled.
“You’re a hard man to find.” Dante tossed my jacket across the table as if by instinct knowing I’d reach for my weapon.
“What’s wrong?” For Dante to appear this late meant there was an issue to deal with.
“We’ve got a report of the hotel being cased.”
I turned my head toward the window just as the man I’d seen before stepped into the back of a dark sedan.
Apparently, he’d been waiting for a ride.
While I took a deep breath, that didn’t mean I would breathe any easier.
You learned early in a business where death followed you like the shadow of the grim reaper to pay close attention to instinct and anything appearing out of the ordinary.
“Security cameras?” I asked.
He nodded. “That and two men sighted in the lobby. They recently left.”
“Well-dressed man in a high-dollar suit, brown hair, about six foot three.”
He was surprised. “Yes, although that could paint a picture of half our guests.”
“True. Have the bartender look at the footage. At this point, I suggest we take a walk.”
“We’re going to try and apprehend them?” Dante was way too eager.