Dark Chase (The Gunrunner Series) (3 page)

Dmitri broke face. Shock washed over him and he knew his eyebrows were up. He glanced at Gram who had a similar look on his face.

It was Gram who spoke next. “Am I correct in my understanding that you are asking Dmitri to marry your daughter?” He guffawed, leaning back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.

“No, no, no!” Hitoshi waved his hands. “Pretend. Pretend you are her boyfriend. That she is yours. That you have romantic intentions with her. They will back off.”

“For fuck’s sake, Hitoshi.” Dmitri pushed his empty plate away. “Why the fuck would I do that? Why?”

Hitoshi smiled. “It would be good for you, to save face. Rumors are swirling that your…involvement with a woman cost you dearly in America. Naomi makes sense. She is my daughter; we are in the same business. It could help you save face.”

Dmitri slammed his fist down, causing the glasses and dishes on the table to jump. “I do not need to save face,” he said in a controlled tone.

Hitoshi shrank back and his guards moved in. He held up his hand, and they stopped, throwing concerned glances at each other. “It was not my intention to insult you, dear friend. Only to explain.”

“No,” Dmitri said. “That is my answer.” He stood. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Wait!” Hitoshi said. “Please. You are my only hope.”

Dmitri paused, but did not speak. Silence was the most powerful negotiator.

Hitoshi shoulders sagged. “Five million. Four months of your services.”

Dmitri sat back down. “Make it ten, and I want ten percent of your revenue plus a future stake in your business. You need to do some succession planning.”

Hitoshi smiled. “You make a tough bargain.”

Dmitri smiled back. “I am a businessman.”

Hitoshi sighed. “I am well aware of your skills, Dmitri. I will give you what you have asked.”

Dmitri stood, bowed deeply, and left with Gram in tow. “What the fuck did I just agree to?” he said to Gram as they wove through the crowded streets of Tokyo.

“Your future in Asia. Brilliant,” Gram muttered.

Dmitri said nothing. He always let his thoughts process through his careful internal filter before he shared them.

He could not stomach the thought of pretending to be interested in another woman. Sophia had ripped him up inside in a way he dared not discuss or let on, not even to Gram.

They were back in their hotel twenty minutes later. They poured some more stiff drinks, sat on the balcony, and started planning their expansion into East Asia.

Chapter 3

SOPHIA

“Oh, God,” Sophia groaned. She rolled over in her hotel room bed. The movement made her dizzy.

She was hung over. Beyond hung over. The night before was a haze. Shots. Dancing. Flirting with men. More shots. Throwing money into the pretty jars for the strippers. Stumbling into the streets in the middle of the night. Drunk girls filling her hotel room. Ordering room service in the middle of the night.

She opened her eyes. She was still fully clothed in her little black dress. “Jeez,” Sophia said out loud. She sat up slowly. Glasses and plates were scattered around the floor and furniture. It smelled like stale cigarettes and booze.

She stood, stretching. A lean figure sat outside on her balcony, wrapped in her robe, smoking. A telltale splash of platinum blond hair was wrapped in a tight coil on top of her head.

Sophia pulled a sweater out of one of her drawers. Her purse was on its side, open on the bureau, wallet spilling out and open, too. She snatched it up, relieved to see her cards, ID, and cash were still inside.

She glanced around her room—everything looked a little rifled, like someone had searched it.

She sighed, her eyes traveling back to Tatiana outside. What was she up to?

She wrapped the sweater around her, shoved her feet into slippers, and joined Tatiana on the balcony.

“Morning, Miss America,” Tatiana drawled in Russian. She took a long drag of her cigarette.

“Morning.” Sophia collapsed in the chair next to her.

Tatiana pushed a steaming cup of coffee towards it. “Drink. I don’t like it. I made what you had in that little coffee maker.”

Sophia suppressed an eye roll and grabbed the mug. The coffee was the cheap variety that came in individual packets—she usually didn’t drink it—she preferred to order from the floor butler. She took a sip from the mug.

Tatiana stubbed out her cigarette in a makeshift ashtray that was one of the little white plates from her room.

“You went through my purse,” Sophia said.

Tatiana smiled. Her thick, black eyeliner had smeared down half her face, but she was still pretty. “I didn’t take anything.”

Sophia thought about that while she took another drink of the bitter coffee. “You were going to?”

Tatiana shrugged. “I like you, Miss America.” She smiled brightly. “You live here?”

Sophia glanced back to her patio door. “Yeah, I do for now.”

“Why?” Tatiana leaned forward, placing her slim fingers with bright red nails on the table. “Are you a hooker?”

Sophia laughed. “Hardly. Are you?”

Tatiana shrugged again. “If the price is right. Occasionally.”

Sophia dropped her head onto the table. “You’re a hooker? You sleep with men for money?”

Tatiana laughed again, throwing back her head. “Not very often. Only a few times a year. My boyfriend sometimes introduces me to rich men who want to sleep with me.”

Sophia raised her head. “That’s really fucked up.”

Tatiana shrugged. “If I want to make a little extra money, he can help, and he doesn’t mind.”

Sophia shook her head. “Still fucked up.”

Tatiana took the coffee back and took a sip. She was acting way too familiar. “And what is Miss America doing here? Living in a hotel? No job?”

Sophia stared at the coffee as Tatiana put it down and pushed it back towards her. “I’m looking for someone.”

Tatiana lit another cigarette, producing the cigarette and lighter from her robe. Sophia’s robe, actually. “A man?” she asked, blowing out smoke as she spoke.

“A man,” Sophia answered.

“What kind of man?” Tatiana leaned back in her chair, putting her still heel-clad feet on the table.

Sophia didn’t answer. She drained her coffee mug and set it on the table. She wasn’t sure about this strange woman with bright blond hair, who wanted to steal from her then didn’t, who occasionally prostituted herself to rich men. But she didn’t have any other options right now. All she had was Tatiana.

“A bad man,” Sophia said.

Tatiana took a long drag from her cigarette. “Lover? That is why you went to the club dressed like that? Looking for a bad man?” She pointed her finger at Sophia while she spoke.

“Looking for men who could find him.”

“I see.” Tatiana stubbed out her cigarette, grinding it back and forth in the plate until she’d smashed it to half of its original size. She switched back to English. “If you looking for bad men, you went to wrong club.”

“Where do I go? Can you help me?”

Tatiana smiled, showing her perfect straight teeth. “I’ll take you.”

DMITRI

Dmitri shoved the last of his things into his suitcase and slammed it shut. He was leaving Tokyo soon and taking Naomi with him. For better or worse, they were a couple.

She was on her way to his hotel, no doubt being watched by the S-Triangle. The show started now.

A soft knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts. Gram answered it, pulling the door open fully to let in his new “girlfriend.”

Fuck. He did not want to do this. He wanted the stake in the business and its future, but not a woman. Not another woman, even if it was not real. The ache at losing Sophia was too fresh in his mind.

Naomi strolled into the room, hands clutched to her sides. She was nice to look at, but she wasn’t Sophia. Where Sophia was all toned curves, full, heavy breasts, and hourglass hips, Naomi was slim with slight curves and small breasts. Where Sophia was full-lipped and soft features, Naomi’s were delicate and angular. Her long, thick, black hair fell down to her elbows.

“Dmitri,” she said softly. “It is nice to see you after so many years.”

She embraced him quickly, planting a cool kiss on his cheek. He returned it. “This is what you want to do?” he asked.

“Yes.” She gestured to the bellhop behind her. At her command, he deposited her suitcase and left. “The man that…wants me. He’s cruel. Sick. He wants to do sick things to me.” She dropped her eyes. “I would not be safe.”

“I understand,” Dmitri said. “When we are in public view, I will need to touch you, perhaps even kiss you. Do I have your permission?”

She met his eyes again, but hers were teary and sad. “Yes. We have to fool them. We must.”

“Good.” He nodded again, all business.

“Good,” she repeated. “How is this going to work?”

“If you were my girlfriend, my real girlfriend, I would keep you with me at all times to protect you. So, you will be coming with me.”

She pressed her lips together. “I understand. Where are we going?”

“Wherever I say.”

She didn’t say anything else, just sank into a chair. The flowing material of her pant suit made a swishing noise with her movement. She looked away, anywhere but Dmitri.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Dmitri said.

“I must,” she answered. “Thank you for asking, though. Many men do not care for my opinion.”

Gram stood off to the side, arms crossed over his chest. He hadn’t said a word, but stared at Naomi like she was a mirage.

“Gram,” Dmitri said.

He didn’t answer, just stared at her. “Gram!” Dmitri said again.

Gram finally looked at him. “Sir?”

“We leave now.”

“Yes.”

They left together, Gram carrying two suitcases. Dmitri put his hand on the small of Naomi’s back as they stepped into the elevator. He did it because that’s what he would have done with his real woman, Sophia.

Everything still revolved around her and it burned him up inside.

When they left the front door of the hotel, she hooked her arm through his and gave him a soft smile. He returned it. It was strange to force affection when he was cold and still as a stone inside, but he did it anyways.

She was good at pretending, too. The teary-eyed girl vanished, replaced with a confident, happy woman.

An act. A parade for the cameras.

Four months. He could do it for four months.

Chapter 4

SOPHIA

“More,” Tatiana prompted.

“More? I already look like a raccoon.” They were ensconced in Sophia’s bathroom. Freshly purchased make-up crowded the counter: powders, blushes, and lipsticks covering every square inch of the marble-top next to the sink.

“Yes.” Tatiana pulled out an ever present cigarette.

“Hey!” Sophia pointed eyeliner at her. “Not here.”

Tatiana rolled her eyes and then slid from her perch on the counter. “Fine. I go outside.”

She strolled out.

They’d spend the past couple days together: roaming the streets, eating at restaurants, sorting through the piles of clothes that Tatiana had stored at her small but nice apartment.

It was clear she had money, but Sophia wasn’t sure where it came from. She didn’t appear to have a job.

Sophia pushed the questions about her bizarre new friend out of her mind and went to back to work on her thick, black, liquid eyeliner. It was tough to apply, but it was the only thing that could accomplish the dramatic look she was going for.

Tatiana had been prepping her for where they were going tonight. It was a dark, dirty place, she’d said. Not safe at all.

But they were meeting Tatiana’s boyfriend there. Sophia was insanely curious to meet him.

Sophia hoped this was the break she was looking for. One step closer to finding Dmitri.

She’d do anything for him.

She made a dramatic wingtip that extended far past the end of her lash line, then thickened in the line around her eyes. She added smoky gray eye shadow.

Tatiana was back, leaning against the doorway. Her face was naked, free of makeup, and beautiful as usual. High cheekbones, porcelain skin, full lips. Her face could grace a high-end fashion magazine.

“This is much better.” Tatiana smiled. “My turn and then we will address your wardrobe.”

Sophia grabbed the bottle of red wine they’d been splitting and drank it straight from the bottle. “This should be interesting.”

Two hours later, they were on their second bottle of wine and fully decked out. Tatiana looked like a rich party girl, with a skin tight, red leather dress that hugged her down to her knees, sky-high Lucite platform heels, and a mink stole draped around her shoulders.

Sophia didn’t know what to think of her reflection. Her eyes were thickly lined, her lipstick a dark cherry red. Her black mini dress was skin tight with a deep, square neckline. She had on a push up bra that forced her ample cleavage to ridiculous levels. Her heeled, tight black boots were high, over her knees, and each one of her fingers was draped with heavy, silver jewelry.

She flexed her fingers. “Wow, I look…”

“Dangerous,” Tatiana finished. “That is what you wanted, right?”

“Yeah.” Sophia swallowed. “I guess.”

Tatiana grabbed her shoulders. “This man. How bad do you want to find him?”

“Very bad,” Sophia said.

“And he’s big criminal, like you told me?” she said.

“Yes,” Sophia nodded.

“Then we must do this.” She dropped her hands away and picked up her clutch. “It will be fun!” Her big smile was back.

Sophia’s stomach dropped. Tatiana was wild and unpredictable, but she had no other choice.

She grabbed her purse and followed Tatiana out of the hotel room. The cab ride was quiet. Tatiana had the window cracked so she could smoke. Sophia stared out of the window. The streets were wide and paved at first, and then they got narrow and bumpy and dirty.

“Relax,” Tatiana said. “You’re making me nervous.”

The cab rolled to a stop in front of a darkened warehouse. There was no sign on the door, but deep bass reverberated out into the street, betraying the presence of the wild scene within.