Chapter Five
I tapped the dagger sheathed in my garter, then rechecked the small gun hidden within the folds of my clutch bag before strolling into VAL’s Cocktail Bar on Alpha Ring.
It was dark in here. Blue neon lights shone from the drinks bar to the left, hinting at the figures milling about.
Loud, nondescript music pounded my ears as I moved through the vast space, scanning the crowded venue for faces I recognised.
A couple of heads turned as I sauntered past. My long silver cocktail dress sparkled as the slit exposed my right leg, though I doubted any of them could tell my stilettos pinched uncomfortably at my toes.
Regardless of the dress code, this wasn’t the Argentum’s most savoury sector, and I needed to play the part of the relentless partygoer.
On-duty military and officials weren’t welcome in establishments near the main docks like this one.
But to avoid recognition, we always liaised with Purans here, rather than on Delta Ring where everyone knew Torz and his security team.
I shuddered with aversion. These new signs were everywhere, legislated by the governing body, led by others similar to Zuli. Their hatred for the Purans was visibly growing, and I wondered how many people loitering in this bar opposed the sanctions.
Only a small percentage of Purans had travel permits—those who proved themselves worthy through gruelling labour or unpaid favours.
But those signs correlated to the recently passed laws, and any Puran found in possession of even a piece of fruit would be arrested and exiled from the Orbital Stations.
The governors were obviously tightening the movement of every single Puran.
It made me consider if Zuli’s manifesto was behind it, and whether the backing for her proposal was stronger than we feared.
My eyes swept the room again. Where was Chaz?
A clunk on the metal countertop pulled my attention to the tattooed barman gesturing to the pink cocktail between us. I interpreted his lopsided sneer as an attempt to smile as he tipped his head to the side. “Fella in the booth’s buying.”
Eyebrows high, my surprise quickly shifted to a frown of intrigue. I looked over to the line of exclusive alcoves on the far side of the establishment. Three were empty, but one had its purple curtain drawn, confirming someone was occupying it.
“He said to send you over.”
My frown deepened. Chaz would never draw attention to himself in such an elaborate way. He rarely had enough money to buy himself a drink, let alone anyone else.
“Who is it?” I asked the barman.
He shrugged, walking away to serve another customer.
Claws of uncertainty dragged down my spine, twisting my stomach into knots. Snatching up my clutch bag and the cocktail, I meandered through the crowd towards the obscured alcove.
Perhaps Chaz was running from Alpha Ring security and convinced the barman to hide him. Torz had issued him with a fake ID and documentation, but with the recent crackdown on Puran visitors, it was possible he’d been targeted.
As I approached the private booth, I stopped, narrowing my eyes to peer through the tiny gap in the thick curtain fabric. A round table, empty glasses, and a couple of vacant chairs were all I could see. I was starting to wonder if anyone was actually there.
But the curtain was suddenly jerked open, and a tall man with cropped blond hair appeared. At first, I thought it was Chaz. But when I took in the dark suit and tie, the huge shoulders, and the hard expression on a rugged face, I knew I was in trouble.
The blond gestured for me to enter the compact, square space. Hesitation stalled me, and before I could decide my next steps, he snatched at my wrist and tugged me forward, snapping the curtain shut behind us. Inwardly, I cursed, shaking my arm now drenched in half my drink.
A soulless chuckle rumbled from the corner, freezing me to my core. I swivelled, my heart dropping like a lead balloon. Sitting with his back to the curtain was none other than the infamous Nikos Russo.
With slicked-back salt-and-pepper hair, a devilish grin, and dressed in a tailored suit that was probably worth more than a Puran biodome, he emitted an aura of obnoxious arrogance.
The wretched man was a renowned Puran gangster, and even though he supported the welfare of his people—to a selfish extent—he was ruthless, intimidating; demanding.
The type of Puran who gave his people a bad name.
Proudly sexist, he only negotiated with men, so with me being here on my own did not bode well.
Taking a deep, stabilising breath, I straightened, cursing myself for not wearing the black dress I almost chose, with the less revealing neckline. His dark gaze inspected every inch of my body, and my stomach churned and roiled with sickening repugnance.
Pushing forward my impassive mask, I inclined my head. “Russo, nice to see you.”
“Is it?” He smirked, his stare still roving my body. “I was expecting Benoit.”
I didn’t miss the contempt in his tone, and I bit back, “I was expecting Chaz.”
“I confirm Chaz Habba is aboard the Argentum. We followed him here. He said he’d arranged to meet with Benoit, but I’ll guess you’ll do.”
He’d followed Chaz?
The thought tightened another knot in my gut.
Though Russo occasionally aided our Puran supply runs, he was not trustworthy, nor was he from the same faction as Chaz.
Everything he did was to aid himself and his wallet.
The fact he’d tailed Chaz, clearly prized information out of him, and now Chaz was nowhere in sight, meant Russo was upset about something.
My instincts blared inside my head with alarm.
Russo motioned to the cushioned chair across the booth from him, and hiding my reluctance, I obliged.
Placing my half-spilt cocktail on the black tablecloth, I eyed the several whisky glasses spread across the table before me—it was obvious Russo had been waiting a while.
I clocked Russo’s blond henchman standing behind him, blocking my only exit.
Built as tall and as broad as Saul, he could become a problem if things got messy.
Only Torz knew I was here, and with him keeping a low profile and confining himself to Delta Ring to avoid speculation from his unwanted visitor; whatever happened here, I was on my own.
“Nice ship Benoit’s gifted my elusive friend.
” Russo lounged deeper into his chair, his head tilting in mockery.
“It’s no wonder Chaz has been evading me for months.
Looks like he’s been evading the law, also.
His ship’s logs state it arrived from the Amethyst. Clever.
Never once has it transmitted a trajectory that enters Puran aerospace.
If anything, our friend should have a travel restriction against him… ”
So should you.
Russo was a Puran as much as Chaz—a known felon. How he’d evaded the authorities and successfully docked on Alpha Ring today baffled me. Perhaps Alpha Ring wasn’t as clued up on security as we previously thought.
“Your boss is clearly showing his favouritism,” Russo sneered.
“Favouritism has nothing to do with—”
“Are you sure about that?” His burning gaze swept over me again, lingering on the swell of my small breasts, sending cold fire through my veins.
Uncomfortable was not a strong enough word for how he made me feel.
My disgust for this greaseball had my fingers twitching towards the bag in my lap, readying to snatch my gun up and shoot a bullet in his leg.
“Benoit gifts Chaz an ultra-tech ship. He sends his bit of pussy to liaise with him—”
I’m sorry, what?
“—He offers Chaz first dibs at supplies.” He leaned forward, narrowing his dark eyes with disdain. “He promised me five dozen crates of Q last week, yet I haven’t received an ounce.”
Five dozen? Torz would never agree to—
Understanding hit me like a hard slap across the face. I closed my eyes in despair, recalling the mission I’d instigated last week. Torz had called in a favour from Russo to keep me safe.
Gods, why would he agree to such an unrealistic amount of drugs to be delivered to a drug lord?
Five dozen crates of Q would not go unnoticed.
As well as being highly illegal, Torz was at risk of revealing his under-the-radar dealings with the Purans.
Perhaps that was how Zuli had caught wind of Torz’s smuggling.
“Where is it?” Russo’s agitated tone roused me from my internal quandary. His venomous scowl was like an ancient, poisonous snake readying to strike.
“There’s been a delay,” I replied robotically. “We’re working on the issue.”
“Issue? I don’t want to hear about issues. I want my stock. I held up my end of the deal. Delays are not acceptable.”
“Commander Benoit sends his apologies.”
With a snide coldness, Russo chuckled. “Don’t try to soften me up with your pretty wiles, woman. Is there a delay with Chaz’s supplies as well?”
“Yes.”
“Is this what your meeting with him would’ve been about?”
“Yes.”
“And Benoit sends you to inform him? Offering you as collateral, is he?”
“Of course not!” I snarled, struggling to keep my composure.
Russo’s slow, slithery smirk sent an assault of needles stabbing down my spine, his eyes dipping to the low cut of my dress again. “I may accept his apology if that were the case.”
The curtain snapped open, and a deep, unexpected voice carved through the thickening tension. “There’ll be no collateral, Russo!”
Torz?
Dressed in a navy-blue evening suit with an open-collared shirt, Torz stepped fully into the alcove, whipping the purple curtain shut behind him.
My heart fluttered with a mixture of relief and unease as he proceeded towards me, his eyes catching mine before taking the adjacent seat.
I held my breath as the back of his hand brushed against my exposed thigh under the table, leaving a clammy heat in its wake.
Had he rushed here?
If he had, he disguised it well. Everything about him, from his hair to his shoes, looked ruthlessly immaculate.
“Benoit,” Russo sneered at him. “I was told you were—”
“There’s been a breach of information,” Torz cut Russo off, the dominance in his voice matching his formidable aura. That was one of the reasons he was so much better at handling Russo than I was. “The docks are being watched, and so am I.”
“Since when?”
“Yesterday.”
“Convenient.” Russo tutted. “I want my supplies.”
“They’ll be with you in eight days, following the Debate Gala.”
“Eight days is not going to cut it!” Russo ground his teeth, the muscle in his neck pulsing with a feuding irritation.
The henchman standing behind Russo shifted, reaching inside his jacket, and my hand inched towards the dagger sheathed against my thigh.
Locking eyes with me, the blond brute stilled.
Wise choice, big guy.
“Eight days is the best I can offer,” Torz ground out. “I do not like this situation any more than you do, but it’s in your best interest to back down.”
Darting his seedy eyes to me, Russo stood abruptly, straightening his fancy suit jacket. “You should know by now, Benoit, I don’t take lightly to broken bargains. Make it six days. Otherwise, I will come for some collateral, and I will take whatever I want.”
He ripped the curtain aside and stalked through the bar to the exit, his henchman shadowing him.
As we watched them leave, I whispered, “I thought you were laying low.” Anger and relief conflicted inside my chest, unsure if it was mine or Torz’s.
“Chaz came and found me. Russo’s been tailing him. I put two and two together. I wasn’t going to let you tackle negotiations with him alone.”
His perception of me not being able to hold my own left me feeling a little undermined, and he must’ve sensed it. He turned his head, searching my face.
“I’m glad you did,” I assured him. And I was. “I despise that man. He makes me feel like a piece of meat up for sale.”
“If he ever touched you…” Torz’s voice trailed off, and I glanced at him, questioning his pause, my heart pulsing with hope. But he suddenly cursed, and I followed his gaze. Across the dark neon-blue room, Marla Hyde stood at the drinks bar, sipping a cocktail.
“What is she doing here?” Torz groaned with despair. “Can this situation get any worse?”
I stood, tapping him on his shoulder. “Leave her to me.”
Stepping out of the alcove, I repositioned the curtain, obscuring Torz from view. If Marla recognised Russo; I refused to let Torz fall victim to any speculation after he’d just saved my arse.
Besides, I’d seen the way that redheaded weasel-bitch looked at Torz, and it didn’t sit well with my possessive, rejected Damson self.