Chapter 5
Cara
I’d say my plan is progressing nicely if Dmitri’s requesting late-night strategy sessions.
Just before five o’clock hits, I excuse myself to go to the restroom, passing by other employees as they get ready to head home for the day. Dmitri doesn’t keep many employees, but someone has to draft documents and handle invoices.
I’m sure the NDA they had to sign was just as thick as mine.
Once I enter the restroom, I stop in front of the long mirror above the sinks, studying my reflection. The dress looks good, and I can tell that Dmitri thought the same because he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off me all day. Earlier, he used a Russian term of endearment. Milaya. Sweetheart.
I’ll keep wrapping Dmitri around my finger, drawing him in until he can’t stand the thought of being with Annika when he could be with me instead.
I just have to keep putting on a show and planting the seeds of destruction so that his engagement implodes before it’s even finalized.
Tonight, being alone with him, is vital in the progression of my plan. I need to entice him without being too forward. It’s a fine line, but I’m determined.
I will ruin their engagement.
My fingers breeze through my hair as I give the long strands a light fluff, freshening myself up before our work begins.
Hopefully, I can help Dmitri with his issue and score some points for myself.
Listening in on my father’s business meetings every summer should come in handy, and I’m sure he can forgive me for helping the enemy short term in support of a bigger, more important cause.
Once I touch myself up, I step out of the restroom to an empty office floor, silence ringing throughout the dimly lit space. It’ll just be me and Dmitri alone.
Perfect.
I head to the main conference room where Dmitri and I agreed to hold our strategy meeting, eagerness swelling in my chest with a side of nervousness. Flirting with a dangerous man requires precision.
“I ordered some takeout to be delivered,” Dmitri tells me once I enter the room where the soft, barely audible sound of jazz plays from the Bluetooth speakers. He already has documents laid out on the table and both of our laptops placed in front of our seats.
“Thank you,” I say as I take my seat across from him, delicately folding my hands on the table in front of me. “I’m ready to start if you are.”
Dmitri grunts in agreement and sits across from me, immediately sliding a few pages over to me. “Inventory.”
I pick up the papers and flip through them, trying to ignore the weight of the unwelcome, invisible buzz humming between us.
My eyes scan over the various antique items and furniture that he has for sale.
It’s a smart gig. He can easily clean cash by buying antique items with dirty cash and getting clean cash in return when customers buy from him.
He’s careful, but Bratva leaders have to be to avoid rotting in jail. Only the dumb ones get caught and thrown in prison.
The smart ones just bite a bullet at some point.
The thought of Dmitri dodging gunshots instantly cools my treacherous libido. Which is surprising. Why do I care what happens to a dangerous mob boss who likely has dozens of kills under his belt?
“How big are the packages that you’re trying to send on the truck?” I ask Dmitri as I lift my eyes, focusing again on the task at hand.
“About this big,” Dmitri replies as he makes a rectangular shape with his fingers.
About the typical size of a brick of drugs. I’ll put my money on meth or cocaine.
“And the antique items are a cover,” I state, keeping my expression carefully blank.
Dmitri remains silent for a moment before nodding. “I’m sure you’re thinking that I can probably just hide the packages in the antique items, but that doesn’t feel safe enough to me if the cops want to search them.”
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, chewing slowly as I think to myself. There has to be a way to use the antiques to his advantage. He needs their cover for business documentation and for a physical hiding spot during transportation.
Dmitri glances at my mouth before looking away. “That’s what I’m stuck on. My old transportation guy could get pretty creative but not creative enough to not get caught.”
“It’s easy to make mistakes,” I reply as I look back down at the inventory list, my eyes skimming what he has. “Are you up for doing a few renovations on some of the furniture?”
Dmitri raises an eyebrow at me. “Renovations?”
The corners of my mouth turn up a little as heat rises to my cheeks. “Can I tell you a personal story? I promise it relates to this.”
I expect him to look bored or annoyed, but he looks intrigued instead. “Go ahead.”
“So…my father was really strict. No boyfriends. No sleepovers. No anything in the summers when I stayed with him. But I wasn’t na?ve. I got creative.”
The side of his mouth tilts up a little like he knows what direction this is heading in.
“Well, you know how teenagers are. I had hormones and urges, so I got…restless. And I’m eighteen at this point but still stuck under my parents’ roof, separate roofs since they were never married or together.
Anyway, it was torturous,” I say with a sheepish laugh before leaning toward him like I’m sharing a secret.
I guess I kind of am. “I bought myself…a toy.”
“Sex toy,” Dmitri clarifies. His right hand slowly curls into a fist as it rests on the table.
I didn’t think that I would feel this bashful telling this story. It’s supposed to be tantalizing to reel him in a little closer. Still, some of the details are a little different, but the main point stands.
“All the furniture in my father’s house was passed down for generations, so it’s old and handcrafted,” I tell him. “My nightstand in his house had a hidden compartment. It was small, invisible, and perfect.”
Dmitri chuckles, the sound rumbling deep and low in his broad chest. I hadn’t ever heard him laugh before. “I hope you weren’t stuck in your parents’ houses for much longer. Having to suppress your desires is no way to live.”
“It was nice to have my own place in college,” I say with a light laugh. “No need for secret compartments.”
Our eyes meet as an amused expression lingers on his face. My heartbeat quickens for a moment, catching me off guard. I don’t know what that was about.
“Anyway…my whole point was having secret compartments in the antique furniture to store your packages,” I tell him as my cheeks burn.
“I know a pretty good craftsman. I’ll talk to him and see if he can make some modifications or make me some new pieces specifically for transportation,” Dmitri replies with a nod, looking pleased.
He then stands and walks over to my side of the table, resting his hand on the back of my chair as he leans down.
“What pieces of furniture do I currently have available?”
His cologne settles around me, dark, spicy, and expensive. It smells intoxicating and has me picturing him relaxing in a cigar room full of rich assholes drinking an old-fashioned.
“Um, two dressers, a headboard, a wardrobe, two dining tables, and…a nightstand,” I say, hearing air puff out of his nose in amusement. “Now that I think about it, that probably wasn’t an appropriate story for me to share with my boss. I apologize.”
Dmitri shakes his head as he looks down at me. “Don’t. Your story was…inspiring.”
I can’t help the genuine laugh that bursts from me, my hand immediately flying to my mouth to try to stifle it. “Inspiring. That’s kind of you to say. I was thinking embarrassing.”
Dmitri smirks. “I think it showed that you’ve always been clever. It seems I did hire the right person for the job.”
My heart pounds wildly as we gaze at each other, the air between us feeling hot and electric. Heated and magnetic. If he wanted to, he could so easily lean down a few inches and kiss me.
For a moment, as his stormy blue eyes roam around my face, I think that he’ll try.
Until his phone starts ringing.
His jaw visibly tenses as he steps away from me, killing the tension in the air. He digs his phone out of his pants pocket and answers. “What? Yes. Third floor.”
As he talks on the phone, I take the time to gather myself, wishing that I could fan my blazing red face without drawing attention to myself. I didn’t expect things to get so intimate so quickly, but I guess I’m doing a good job acting on my plan.
Maybe I’m not as rusty as I thought I was at flirting.
“Food is here,” Dmitri tells me as he pockets his phone. “I’ll go get it. Grab that pen and circle all the pieces of furniture on the inventory list.”
I look where he’s pointing and spot a black pen on the table in the middle of the other documents. “Yes, sir.”
Once he steps out of the room, I grab the pen and get on with my task, my pulse steadily going back to normal. That moment when I thought he was going to kiss me lingers in the back of my mind, though.
I haven’t even thought about what I’ll do if he initiates physical contact. I guess I’ll need to play along. How far will I have to possibly take this?
“You’re not allergic to peanuts, right?”
Dmitri’s question jars me out of my thoughts. Thoughts of him, shirtless, the muscles in his arms flexing when he pins my wrists above my head and kisses me like the world’s on fire. “Sorry, what?”
Dmitri places a plastic bag of takeout boxes on the table. “I like this Thai place, but there are peanuts in the Pad Thai. I should’ve asked.”
I’m surprised that he even cares, but I guess he wouldn’t want to lose his new assistant to anaphylaxis in the middle of the office.
“I’m not allergic,” I tell him as I watch him open the bag and distribute two to-go boxes between us. It smells incredible, enough to make my stomach quietly growl. I’ve been so busy today with meetings and errands that I only had a snack for lunch.
Dmitri sits across from me again, making my side of the table feel particularly empty and cold. “Did you pick out the furniture?”
It looks like we’re back to business. That’s honestly probably for the best.
“Yes. What’s next?” I ask him as I pull my laptop closer to me, positioning it next to my dinner.
Dmitri copies me, getting set up for however long we’re going to be here tonight. “Find several examples of secret compartment furniture. I want to give my carpenter some inspiration.”
“I’m on it.”
I can’t help but feel a flicker of pride in my chest knowing that he’s on board with my idea, even if he’s the enemy. My father never let me have any say when it comes to business matters. I’m supposed to just keep quiet and fall in line until I can be useful to him as a bride.
With Dmitri, it feels like I actually have a voice or at least a little bit of influence on what he does next.
But I can’t let my own feelings get to my head. This isn’t about me.
This is about my father, how he’s relying on me. And more importantly, my freedom.
Those are the only things that can matter to me right now.