35. Dimitri
35
Dimitri
February
I t’s funny how when you’re not looking for something, you easily stumble upon it. But when you’re actively looking for something, it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. In the dark. With sunglasses on. It’s nearly impossible.
Nearly.
Because when you know where to look in that haystack, all you need is a magnet and some time.But I need to be careful not to draw attention to myself as I search for whatever it is Sergei hides.And it hasn’t been easy. I haven’t touched my sweet angel’s soft skin in days. The only time I see her face is on the phone screen late at night or early in the morning. She’s in her last semester at school and just as busy as ever. But now and then, we get to spend a moment of peace together. Just the other day, I snuck in and woke her up by being between her legs. A favorite for us both.
Since becoming pregnant, Gabriella’s hormones are as erratic as her emotions are. One minute she wants sex the moment she sees me, and the next she’s crying because she thinks she’s getting fat. Something that is entirely untrue. Yes, there is a small bump, almost like she's indulged too much in a big lunch, but I find the sight of it endearing. For a couple of weeks, Gabriella battled with the fear that she wasn’t even pregnant because her body looked the same. Now that her belly is bulging, her fear has shifted to a constant worry that something will happen to the twins.
I do what I can to ease her mind, but I’m also battling against those damn pregnancy hormones of hers. One moment, she’s bubbling with excitement, brainstorming nursery ideas, and the next, she’s diving into searches for infant coffins and choosing flowers for funerals. Yes. She’s being that extreme.
She has an appointment tomorrow for a routine checkup where we hopefully find out the genders of the twins. I’d like to wait until the birth and keep it a surprise, but as always, what my angel wants, she gets.
A knock echoes through my office.
“Come in.”
Alexei pops his head in with a frown instead of his usual sarcastic smirk.
I wave him in. “What is it?”
“Have you seen Ana lately?”
“No.” Nor do I have any desire to. I haven’t indulged in her for nearly a year. She tried, but after sending her away a half dozen times, she finally got the hint and stayed away, seeking her pleasure elsewhere.
“Yeah, me either.” His frown deepens.
“Why are you looking for her? What about Sophia?”
The last I heard, they were sneaking around together, defying Sergei’s wishes and orders. Because to him, Sophia and I are still engaged to be married. But that'll be hard to do since Dimitri Volkov doesn’t exist and the real man, Dimitri Clark, is already married.
“That’s the thing.” He sighs. “Sophia wants her to join us tonight.”
I raise my brow in surprise at the news. “As in?”
“Our bed. Yes,” Alexei confirms, tossing me a look of disbelief like he can’t believe I just asked that question. “Why? Is that surprising?”
Honestly? Yes. Realistically? No. Sophia is a lot like Alexei. Carefree and adventurous in between the sheets. That she was loyal to Michael DiAngelo during their marriage is a miracle all by itself.
“Not at all,” I answer him as I pick up my phone to dial the manager. When he answers, I ask, “When was Ana last in?”
“Last week. She has a shift tonight but is late.”
I frown. She’s never late without good reason. For a whore, she’s remarkably punctual and responsible. “I'm sure there's nothing to worry about, Alexei.”
“Hmm.”
“Just think about all the ways you can punish her for being late,” I tell him, which seems to lift his sour mood a little based on his small, playful smile. “I’m sure Sophia will love that.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” He moves toward the door. “I think I’ll go tell her that now.” He pauses and glances back. “Unless there was something else you need of me?”
I wave him out, watching him nearly skip out of the room like a little kid told they can have cake for dinner. All things considered, Alexei isn’t too terrible of a guy, and if it’s at all possible, I’m going to try my hardest to keep him free of jail.
Once alone, I tug my necklace free from beneath my shirt and press the middle of the pendant. It buzzes lightly under my touch, letting me know the message has been delivered. A few seconds later, it buzzes back with Gabriella’s answering touch.
A notification sound interrupts my train of thought, alerting me to a new email from an unfamiliar sender with an encrypted message.
From: vikinglord6969
Found this and thought it odd that the business who owns it is a child company owned by a corporation with ties to Sergei Mikailhov. I don’t know if you already know about this place, but it seems rather odd to have utilities on for a place listed as abandoned. Anyway, check it out and try not to get killed. I don’t want to tell Gabriella it’s my fault.
Oh, and make sure you jot the address down now because this email will self-delete in ten seconds.
Oh, and it’s Enzo by the way, in case my username isn’t clue enough.
Surveying the empty street, my eyes are drawn to the flickering streetlamps and the neglected homes. The yards are a tangle of overgrown weeds; the windows boarded up, and graffiti covers the walls.
“Well, this looks cozy,” I mumble under my breath as I examine the home in front of me. Resembling the others on the street, it’s as Enzo described, clearly abandoned. So why is there an active electric and water bill?
I’m not sure what to expect inside and while I hope to find nothing, I still pull my pistol free and check that it’s loaded. The front door is barred, and the windows are sealed shut and boarded up as if preparing for a hurricane or trying to keep something in.
When I reach the backyard, I suddenly hear a deep voice erupt with laughter from inside the house. I quickly flip my flashlight off and duck behind a tree for cover a second before the back door swings open with a loud squeak. A large man steps outside. He strikes up a cigarette and takes a long drag.
“Man, this job blows,” he complains as another man joins him on the back patio. “We can’t even sample the product, which is dumb if you ask me. They’re already whores. What’s one more cock to them?”
His companion laughs and lights his own cigarette. “You’re telling me. The least we can get is our dicks wet while we babysit.”
Dumb fuck number one smacks dumb fuck number two on the chest. “Exactly! This is grunt work and we deserve a little something for it. Am I right?”
I couldn’t agree more. There’s two bullets in my gun itching to bury themselves in their skulls, but I need answers first. Because I’m pretty sure I’ve just stumbled upon a human trafficking house…with ties to the Bratva… and to Sergei.
Fuck.
This is what I’ve been looking for. The evidence the FBI needs. I’m not sure if it’s enough to pin the entire thing on Sergei, but it’s a start.
Dumb fuck number one heads back inside, leaving his partner alone. That’s a mistake. I grab a rock and toss it clear across the yard. It hits a broken fence post, making a sound loud enough to earn his attention.
“What was that?” dumb fuck one hollers from inside.
“Nothing,” dumb fuck two shouts back. “Probably just an animal. I’ll go check. You stay inside.”
Mistake number two.
His heavy, loud footsteps through the overgrown yard, covers the sound of mine. He doesn’t even know I’m behind him until it’s too late. I really only need one of them and I can’t risk him alerting his partner. I’m not even sure if it’s only these two inside.
In one swift move, I snap his neck and end his life. A shiver runs down my spine as his dark soul departs for the underworld. I can already hear Jacob reprimanding me about killing the guy, but he also gave me the freedom to do whatever I need to, to get the job done.I don’t recognize the guy and need a name, so I pat his pants to find his wallet. Flipping it open, I read Nickolas Ivanov . Russian. Great. That’s another nail in Sergei's coffin.
As I head to the back door, I’m not too concerned about making noise because as far as dumb fuck one thinks, I’m dumb fuck two coming back in.
“About time, Nick. What was it?” he asks from somewhere inside. Despite the exterior of the home, the inside isn’t in as terrible of shape. It could use a good dusting and the floors look like they haven’t seen a mop or broom in ages. There’s a musky, damp odor hanging heavy in the air. But hey, at least there’s electricity and water.
“Nick?”
I duck behind a chair and wait quietly for dumb fuck one to show up. It doesn’t take long.
“What the hell, Nick? You lose your voice or something?”
Or something.
His heavy footsteps grow closer until finally he passes by my hiding spot.
“Nick?”
I stand and grab him in a choke hold. He struggles and claws at my arm in a desperate need to breathe. I only tighten my hold. His body grows weak from lack of oxygen before finally going completely slack.
Setting him down, I check his pulse, ensuring that he’s got a pulse still. Once I find it, I grab my cuffs and lock him up for good measure. He’ll be out long enough for me to search the rest of the home and find these girls.
It doesn’t take me long to find them. There’s only one room with lights on, and the quiet sounds of crying float out from the open door. Still, I keep my gun raised in case of more surprises. But I find none. Only a half dozen terrified women. They stare at me with wide eyes, some of them flinching and cowering at the sight of my gun.
“I'm not here to hurt you. But I need to know. How many men are in the house right now?” I ask as my eyes continue to sweep the room.
“Tw-two,” one girl answers softly. “Are you here…to help us?”
“Yes.”
“Dimitri?”
My head snaps to the group of girls at the sound of my name, and my eyes land on a familiar blonde head. “Ana?”
She stands on shaky feet and stumbles toward me before she falls into my arms. Sobbing she holds on to me tightly. Her hair is matted, her clothes filthy, and her skin dirty and pale. She’s always been a skinny girl, but I can feel nearly her entire spine beneath my hand.
“What happened, Ana?” I ask, pulling her away to look at her. Well, now I know where she’s been.
“I was leaving work like I always do and I–I don’t know. I just remember…a bag being put over my head and then there was this sting in my neck…and that’s all I remember. Next thing I know, I woke up, and I was here,” she explains through her sobs. “They’ve been so mean to us. Barely feeding us and taunting us. Is it true, Dimitri?”
“Is what true?”
“Are we going to be sold as sex slaves?”
I frown, finding no need to sugarcoat things. “I think so.”
“Why?” she cries and backs away. “Why would you do that?”
“Why would I?” What the hell is she talking about?
“The men spoke Russian.”
I lean forward to meet her eyes, but she looks away immediately. “Ana, look at me.” She hesitates, but finally does. “I swear, I didn’t know. But I’m going to end it.”
Jacob whistles low through the phone. “Well, this is not what I expected to hear when you call me at midnight.”
I snort. “When have I ever called you at midnight with anything good?”
“Fair point. Okay, so there’s six girls, one dead Russian, and one tied up?” he summarizes.
“Yeah. But you should know that one girl knows me from the club.”
“Knows you? Or knows you , knows you?”
“She knows me as Volkov.”
“That’s good then.” He groans, and it sounds like he’s climbing out of bed. “Alright, I’ll catch the first flight out, but in the meantime, I’ll send a team close by to take care of the girls and take the Russian into custody.”
“Jacob.” I sigh. “I can’t be here when you send the team in.”
My friend goes quiet. “Wait…why? We have what we need. We can pull you out now.”
“I just…I can’t, Jacob.”
“Dimitri? What are you not telling me?”
“I’ll explain it when you get here.” That’ll buy me some time to figure out how to tell my old friend the truth about Gabriella and how I want out.
“Dimitri.”
“I’ve got to go. Call the team in and I’ll be in touch.”
“Dim—”
I hang up and pocket my phone, ignoring the buzzing when he tries to call again.
“Ana.”
When she hears her name, she looks up from giving the girl’s some fresh water and crackers she found, courtesy of dumb fuck one and two.
“The police are coming.”
“But,” she frowns, “I don’t understand. Why did you call the police?”
“Because they can help get you girls to the hospital to be checked out.”
“But…isn’t this…”
She trails off, but I can figure the rest out.
“Like I told you, I didn’t know about this, and I don’t stand for it either. I’m going to talk with Sergei and sort this out. In the meantime, go to the hospital and be seen. Can you do that for me?”
“What about Alexei? Did he know about this?”
That’s a good question. But something about his behavior tonight tells me no. Because if he did, why would he have asked where she was? Unless it was all a trick. A trap. No. Not Alexei. But until I talk to him, I can't be certain.
“I’m not sure.” The sound of sirens hits my ears. “Listen, I have to go, but the police are here. Okay?”
“Dimitri, please!” She rushes after me and grabs for my hand. “Don’t leave us.”
Through the slits in the boards, I see flashing blue and red lights. They’re getting closer. I carefully remove her hand. “Ana, I’m trusting you to watch over and take care of the girls. I’ll check in soon, but I have to go. Do you understand?”
She's still sobbing but finally nods and turns back to the frightened girls.
I check quickly on dumb fuck one to make sure he’s still locked up and knocked out. Once satisfied, I slip out the backdoor and hurry to my parked bike. I slam the bike into gear and take off just as the police pull up outside the house.
I’m pulling onto a bridge when my phone rings through my headset. It’s Sergei and I’m immediately on edge when I accept the call.
“Boss?”
“Don’t you fucking boss me anything, you little shit,” he spits.
The little hairs on the back of my neck raise. “What’s wrong, Sergei?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
“Find out what?”
“That you’ve been working undercover for the fucking FBI?”
“Sergei—”
“No! You don’t get to fucking speak. I had my suspicions, but I was proved right tonight. You're a fucking rat.”
How the hell did he find out? I was careful. Unless I was followed? No. I’m sure I wasn’t. Or maybe I was betrayed. Alexei crosses my mind again but only Jacob and Enzo know where I was this evening. Still… It's a matter of who told Sergei and the idea that it could be any of them hurts terribly.
“Sergei, listen to me—”
“No. You listen to me,” he hisses. His voice low and deadly, and send shivers skirting down my spine.I'm not talking to a drunkard any longer, but the Pakhan.
Behind me, the car following me suddenly flips their brights on and then two more vehicles emerge from behind it, covering the other two lanes. Fuck. I rev the gas and speed up, only to watch the cars do the same.
“You’re dead.”
The calls disconnects, the beeping sound echoing through my helmet. The realization of how fucked I am settles in the pit of my stomach and I push the speedometer to one hundred miles an hour, I curse the empty road because some traffic to keep my tail off me would be great right about now.
One car pulls up beside me and the passenger window rolls down to reveal an automatic rifle. I barely veer out of the way of being hit, but my bike isn’t so lucky. Beneath me, the smell of gasoline explodes into the air, the fumes filling my helmet. They hit my gas tank and the liquid gold is quickly pouring free.
Up ahead, there’s a portion of the bridge under construction. The blinking arrow lights illuminate the dark and I don’t have long before the three lanes narrow down one. Distracted, pain explodes along my arm from a bullet. I tug my gun free and fire back, pleased when I hit a tire. The car spins out of control before it flips into the air and then rolls a dozen times before ending in a fiery explosion.
That’s one down.
But based on the way my gas light has turned on, I won’t make it off the bridge.
Another car appears beside me and tries to ram my bike.
“Motherfucker!” I shout, as I swerve to avoid them.
We’re down to two lanes and I make a quick decision. Eyeing my target, I direct my bike toward the orange plastic fence. My tail must see my plan because they double down and fire more at me. I hear a loud POP as my tire blows from a gunshot. My bike skids beneath me. I’m losing control of my bike and it’s hard to maintain with the wound in my arm screaming painfully.
I just need one more second.
My bike slams into the orange plastic fence, and the abrupt impact sends me soaring over the top. As I go airborne, the crack of gunfire reverberates around me, and for a moment, I feel weightless. I can’t tell how high I am, but it feels like I’m falling endlessly. The sound of air rushing by suddenly transforms into the unmistakable sound of wings beating. They say you see things when you’re about to die and in that moment; I swear I see feathers soaring through the air before my body slams into the unforgiving water, and I know nothing more.