Dark Trade 451i5a

Dark Trade

The Gunrunner Series, Book 1

COPYRIGHT © 2014 BY Miranda Kavi SMASHWORDS Edition Published by Midnight Blackbird LLC

This novel is a work of fiction. Any and all names, characters, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to persons (alive or dead), organizations, businesses or actual events is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved by the author. It is unlawful to copy and/or reproduce this novel in any way without the express written consent of the author. The author is a litigation-happy, super-ninja attorney that gets angry when people steal her book. ISBN-13: 978-1497482395 ISBN-10: 1497482399 Cover Art: Laura Hidalgo, Bookfabulous Designs Editor: Ami Johnson, ALDJ Editing

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18

Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Acknowledgements About the Author

Chapter 1

Sophia’s heels clicked on the shiny marble floor as she crossed from the stifling Houston heat into the mercifully cool air of the newest downtown high-rise. She was stopped by a burly security guard, and upon giving her name and company, she was directed to the visitors’ side of the lobby. She scanned the expansive space until she located her superiors clad in expensive suits. “Sophia, I’m glad you could make it on time,” Ms. Relder said. Sophia smiled politely at the only female executive in the company, straining to hide her irritation at the implication that she would be anything but timely. “This is a very important meeting for us,” Ms. Relder said. “I understand. I’m glad I could be of assistance,” Sophia answered, smooth as butter. Eight years in HR at a major oil and gas company had taught her a few things about dealing with the Ms. Relder’s of the world. She would not let the woman get under her skin. Sophia seated herself on one of the low profile black leather couches that rimmed the cavernous space. She undraped her best suit jacket from her arm—the one she had picked up from the dry cleaners only an hour ago—and shrugged into it, smoothing it out. The executives had called her yesterday evening and instructed her to attend this meeting with their Russian business partners. She’d studied in Russia for several years and was fluent in the language. They planned to parade her as their “Russian friendly” employee in front of their new partners. Sophia thought it was a silly tactic to pull a lowly HR manager into an important meeting, but she didn’t object. A couple of the male board acknowledged her existence with a quick nod. The vice president of operations moved his eyes up and down her body before returning to the hushed huddle of dark suits. He always did that. All blond, curvy women were merely placed on earth for him to gawk at. She tuned out her superiors and took advantage of the opportunity to scan the lobby. It was oppressive; rectangular steel lights hung from the ceiling, reflecting light on the gray and black marble floors. A row of desks manned by guards split the rest of the lobby from the elevator bank. It was a lot of security for an office building, even for an oil company.

A tall, slim, dark haired woman approached them. “Red Bluff International, I presume?” she said. Her voice carried a hint of an eastern European accent. “I’m Catherine, executive assistant to Mr. Alvang.” “Yes, ma’am. Don Leed, VP of operations.” The ogler stood to shake her hand, buttoning his jacket as he did so. “So very nice to meet you.” She shook his hand and then scanned the rest of the group. “Please come with me. Mr. Alvang is waiting in the conference room.” They followed her to an elevator bank. The security guards stepped aside to let them . She swiped a card in a little box in front of the elevator bank. The doors slid open, and they followed her into the mirrored elevator. She swiped the card again, then punched another button. Sophia’s stomach plummeted as the elevator shot up. She glanced around at her bosses. They were throwing each other nervous glances. It made her nervous, too. If ever she was out of place, this was it. She gripped her handbag a little tighter. The elevator stopped, and they were ushered into a glass-walled room with a commanding view of the Skyline District. Two men were already seated at a large oval table. “Welcome!” The tall man stood up, shaking hands with each of them. He shook Sophia’s hand, too. “I’m Mr. Alvang,” he said. “Have we met?” “No. I’m Sophia Latrude.” “It’s a pleasure,” he said. Don piped in. “Sophia is from our HR team. She is very knowledgeable on Russia. She spent many years there.” Mr. Alvang smiled. “You chose a bad day to come, young woman,” he said in Russian. His smile remained, but his eyes were strangely stern. “Perhaps you are feeling ill?” he said, still speaking in Russian. Sophia removed her hand from his. “What?” she answered in Russian. “I am quite well, thank you.”

He leaned forward. “Ugly business today.” Then he turned away from her. She stared after him, watching him return to his seat. His lips settled into a grim line as he appraised them across the table. Ms. Relder tapped Sophia’s arm. “Sit. What are you doing?” she hissed. Sophia was still standing in the middle of the room while everyone had already settled at the table. She took a deep, shaky breath and then sat next to Ms. Relder. Don Leed leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. In front of the men on the other side of the table, he employed the good old boy talk. “Well, gentlemen, you called us here, and here we are. How can we help you?” “You brought an extra person,” Mr. Alvang said. Sophia flushed red but managed to control her expression. She had not asked for this. The executives glanced at each other and then Don spoke up. “She’s an HR manager. We are working to bring more synergy into our negotiations by including—” Mr. Alvang held up his hand. “Enough.” Don quieted down. Sophia shifted in her chair. Tension crackled in the air. This was not what she had expected. “This is not a negotiation,” Mr. Alvang said. “He is upset. Your pull in Liberia has been most disappointing. Things are not moving as they should.” Sophia glanced at Ms. Relder. What are they talking about? The normally stoic older woman had her lips pressed in a thin line. “We told you about our...um...limitations in the beginning,” Ms. Relder said. “You promised him you could do it. He is not happy.” “You can assure him we are doing our very best to bring everything in line. There’s a lot more red tape than we could have possibly anticipated. I am certain

we will get to the right people soon. It will move. It takes time. You know that, Mr. Alvang,” Don said. “You said that six months ago. It is now a problem for us. You have become a problem for us.” A side door opened, and a cluster of armed men in black t-shirts and black cargo pants entered the room. She recognized the AK-47s in their hands—her redneck uncle had an old one on display in his living room. She brought her hand to her mouth to cover the shriek that was threatening to escape. Don scooted away from the table, hands in the air. “Now, hold on a second. There’s no need for this kind of—” “Enough,” one of the armed men spoke. His voice was quiet, but the room stilled at his command. He was easy to spot even though he was dressed identical to the others. Power clung to him as if he was wearing it on his clothes. He was a solid wall of muscle with silver just barely painting the edges of his short brown hair. Don shut up but left his hands in the air. Ms. Relder rocked back and forth in her chair, squeaking like a little mouse as tears ran down her cheeks. The man swept his eyes around the room and settled on Sophia. She straightened her back and met the gaze of his green eyes. His face was surprisingly handsome in a rugged sort of way. She should be afraid, and she was, but she was also fascinated. He slung his gun so it rested on his back, a strap across his chest holding it in place. Eyes still on Sophia, he said, “Remove them from this room.” She finally broke his gaze to follow her co-workers out, but she felt him behind her. Every nerve was aware of his presence. The other men moved at his command, herding them out of the door and into the marbled hallway. One of them swiped a keycard next to a metal door, directing them into a dimly lit staircase. “Down,” he said, very close behind her. They started down the stairway. The male executives had their hands in their air,

slowly descending the stairs. Ms. Relder sobbed openly. Stripped of their power, they were just old, egomaniacal men and women. They were just as scared as she was—maybe even more so since they presumably understood more about the situation they were in. Surely these men couldn’t kill all of them. Several executives disappearing from a meeting never to return? Someone would notice. It would be too obvious. She thought back—was this meeting even on the books at Red Bluff International? They had called her at home late last night, told her not to mention her attendance to anyone, not even her secretary. Who were these people? “I do not know you. You are not supposed to be here?” said the man from behind her. His voice was soft and carried a strong Russian accent. He said it more like a statement than a question. She turned to glance at him. “Apparently not. I know nothing about this. Whatever this is,” she answered in Russian. She was sure he was surprised by her language skills, but didn’t dare look at him. He was silent as they started down the second set of stairs. When they reached the landing, he leaned so close that his body touched hers. “I will protect you,” he whispered. She moved away from him, not sure if she should be grateful or frightened. There were more stairs, endless minutes spent going down step after step. Her thighs started to tremble from maneuvering the steps in her heels. The guards paused in front of an open door that led to an even darker hallway. They were now below ground level. Judging by the noticeably cooler air, she thought maybe they were even lower than the underground tunnel system that snaked beneath most of the major buildings downtown. The armed guards pulled the group through the door. Sophia started to follow, but the man behind her quietly whisked her around the corner, out of view from the others.

She let go of his arm, backing slowly away from him. “Who are you?” he asked. “Sophia,” she said, her voice trembling. She cleared her throat. “I work in HR. I don’t know what this is about—you have to believe me.” “Sophia.” Her name rolled off his tongue smoothly. He stared at her in the near darkness. She wanted to run, but where would she go? “I need you to trust me, Sophia. I can only protect you if you follow my instructions,” he said. “Okay, sure. Yes.” She nodded. “Whatever you want.” “You must be silent. You cannot notify the authorities or anyone at your workplace or elsewhere. You must go home and go about your day. You must go to sleep, get up, go about your normal weekend activities, then return to work on Monday. You must never say a word,” he said. “Ever.” “You’re letting me go?” She was too scared to hide her surprise. “Yes, but you must comply. If you do not, I cannot protect you,” he said. “Please.” “I don’t understand.” She bit her lip, a habit of hers. The pain reminded her to stay focused in the moment. “Are you going to hurt them?” “No.” He stepped closer. “Can you follow my instructions? Yes or no.” “Yes,” she said. She nodded as calmly as she could. She needed him to believe her. “Yes, I can.” “Are you certain?” he asked. “Yes,” she said in a firm voice. Without another word, he grabbed her hand and guided her carefully down two more flights of stairs. He swept his card at the landing, opening a door. Lights

clicked on in the darkened hallways as they moved. Still holding her hand, he led her to a tiny elevator. He pulled her into it, swiped his card then pushed a button. He stepped off the elevator, leaving her alone inside. “When it gets to the floor I selected, the second door on your right leads to the parking garage.” The door started to close, but she stopped it with her hand. “Wait. Who are you?” she said. He was silent. The elevator chimed again and the doors slid inward. They were almost closed when he used his hand to stop them. They slid back open. “My name is Dmitri.” She stared at him, waiting for him to continue. He didn’t. The doors started to slide shut again. “I will be silent, but you owe me an explanation. I’ll be in the coffee shop across the street Monday evening at six o’clock,” she said. The words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them. The doors slid shut on his surprised face. She covered her face with her hands and leaned against the back wall of the elevator. Did she seriously just do that? The door dinged open to another dimly lit hallway that looked just like the other dimly lit hallways she’d just been ushered in and out of. She ran out, reaching the second door on the right in seconds. She grabbed the knob, added a silent prayer it would work, and turned the handle. The smell of gasoline and heat rushed into her—she’d made it to the parking garage. She smoothed her hair, straightened her jacket, and walked down the ramp past the guard and onto the public sidewalk.

Chapter 2

Once she was in daylight again, she couldn’t believe what had just happened. She pulled out her cell phone with shaking hands to call nine-one-one, but then put it back. He said not to do that. What was going to happen to the others? What had they gotten themselves into? She walked a couple more blocks in a complete daze, then paused in front of a fountain in a small plaza, plopping herself down on a stone bench. She took a couple of deep breaths. Now that she was safe, she let a few tears slide down her cheeks. She pulled her cell phone out of her purse again, staring at it. Should she call nine-one-one? Could she really leave and do nothing? Would the captors kill her co-workers if she called? Would they kill them if she did nothing? She hated herself and hated her bosses for putting her in this situation. Clearly, Red Bluff International was not above board. They were caught up in something big and bad. She’d seen something she wasn’t supposed to see. They put her, themselves, and God knows who else in danger. Then there was the strange man, Dmitri. She thought of his handsome face and impressive body. The way her soft hand felt in his big, strong one. The way he just let her go, no strings attached. Had she asked to see him again after he pulled a gun on her? “Stop,” she told herself. “This is sick, really sick.” She shut off her phone, put it in her purse, and walked the few blocks to her car. She glanced around to see if anyone followed her, but she just saw the usual downtown crowd. No one stood out, but if someone was following her, she probably wouldn’t be able to spot them anyway. She unlocked her door, got inside, and locked herself in. The inside of her car felt like she was in an incinerator, ready to burn her up for her sins. She turned the engine over, cranked up the AC, and rested her forehead on the steering wheel.

“What the hell am I doing?” she said out loud. “I’m really not going to call the police, after a gun was pulled on me?” But there was no one to answer her. She’d have to answer to herself. That’s the way it was now. She wasn’t going to call, not tonight. The building she had just left belonged to a Russian owned national oil company, new to town, and new to doing business in the U.S. She knew very little about them except they were one of the largest oil companies in the world. Red Bluff International she knew. She’d been there since she graduated college. She had heard rumblings of unethical dealings at Red Bluff before, but refused to believe them. She knew some of the executives had been investigated for securities fraud, but no one was ever prosecuted. She would dig around when she got back to work, that was for damn sure. She lifted her head and drove home, almost overwhelmed with distress over the fate of her bosses. Sure, they weren’t the nicest people in the world, and yes, they made more money than anyone should, but she didn’t want them to die. She called her secretary, telling her she was taking the day off. Marsha cleared her calendar, no questions asked. She was good like that. As she entered her condo, she kissed the framed picture on the small, black decorative table near the entrance like she always did when she got home. She kicked off her shoes and ran to the TV, turning to the news station, waiting for breaking news of the shooting and/or disappearance of five Red Bluff International executives. Hours went by, and no news. She finally peeled herself away, removed her jacket, and crawled into bed.

* * *

Her cell phone woke her. She didn’t want it to. She was having a dream about

Dmitri and dark stairwells and dirty things she normally didn’t dream about. She snatched it up. “Hello?” “Sophia? What the hell is going on?” asked a sweet voice that didn’t sound like it belonged to the sharp businesswoman on the other end of the line. “Andrea? What’s up?” Sophia fumbled around for the remote. Was it on the news? “Um...we were supposed to meet for brunch then shopping. ? Where are you? Did you just wake up?” “Oh, shit. Yeah, I did. Sorry.” Sophia sat up. She was ready to make an excuse not to go, but Andrea was an executive recruiter that consulted for all the big oil companies. She might know more about the Russian oil company. “I can be there in thirty minutes.” “Fine. I’ll be in the antiques store across the street from the restaurant. Text me when you get here.” Sophia switched on the TV and flipped through local and national news stations. Nothing. She got out of bed, staring at the rumpled bed sheets she left behind. They had been empty for a while, and here she was fantasizing about a damn gunman. What the hell was wrong with her? “I need my shrink,” she said to no one in particular as she pulled on a sundress and sandals. An hour later she was sitting across from Andrea, sipping a mimosa, and picking at her chicken salad. She decided that no news was good news, but guilt made her chest feel like it weighed a million pounds. “What’s wrong with you?” Andrea said in her oh so tactful way. “Boy trouble? I hope so.” “What do you know about EBCasp National?” she blurted out. Andrea took another bite of her salad. “The Russian exploration and production company?”

Sophia nodded. “They’re state owned, a subsidiary of one of the big national oil companies in Russia.” She took another bite of her food before continuing. “They’re new here. They’ve been very selective about their hiring—they’ve staffed their Houston office with a bunch of damn expats. I don’t know how they got the work visas for all of them. Surely they could have pulled some talent from the local pool.” She rolled her eyes, no doubt envisioning all the money she had lost by not being able to recruit for them. “Anyway, I don’t know a lot about them. Word on the street is they make underhanded deals, particularly in Kazakhstan, Africa, and Brazil. Bribes and other shit. They’re a majority owner in a lot of non-energy companies, too.” Sophia took a bigger gulp of her mimosa. “What kind of…shit?” “Why the interest? Do you want to work there?” Andrea said. “No, no.” Sophia shook her head, probably a little too emphatically judging from the look she was now getting from Andrea. “Just curious. Red Bluff International is dealing with them, and I don’t know anything about them.” “Ah. Doesn’t surprise me one bit.” Andrea glanced around and then leaned forward in her chair. “One of my good friends from law school is in the FBI. He said they’re keeping tabs on one of the guys. Dmitri or something. He’s supposed to be this big arms dealer, known all over the world, but runs such a tight ship no one can actually catch him.” Sophia choked on her food, but recovered with a drink of water. “Really?” she squeaked. “Yep. Google that shit. You’ll see,” Andrea said. “So, yeah. They’ve been picky about who they contract with. Red Bluff International seems like a perfect match.” Sophia was too tired to defend her company. Plus, she knew Andrea was right. “Maybe I should look for another job,” she said. Andrea threw her fork down. “I’ve been telling you that for years. Just say the word, and I’ll put out some feelers.”

“Let me think about it.” Sophia rubbed her forehead, the events of yesterday hitting her again. “You okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine.” They wandered around the antique mall after lunch. Sophia pretended to ire the things Andrea liked, but her mind was engaged. Guilt was a heavy burden to carry. She checked the local news website from her phone, but there was no mention of Red Bluff International or anything else strange. She spent the rest of the weekend cleaning her condo, like she always did when she was stressed to the max. She scrubbed the bathroom, washed all the linens, and even cleaned the crown molding. Bit by bit she cleaned the floors to the ceiling fans, nothing was spared. It kept her hands busy and occupied her mind, at least a little bit. Her phone sat on the coffee table for most of the weekend. That stupid little device reminded her that she was a bad person for not calling nine-one-one. She went back and forth, questioning her decision not to call the authorities. The news was silent—according to the world, nothing out of the ordinary was going on with five executives from Houston. Surrounded by gleaming floors, spotless walls, and neatly arranged everything, she didn’t feel any better. She went back and forth in her head a million times on whether to show up at the coffee shop. He probably wouldn’t show up anyway. And if he did, well, she hadn’t made it that far yet. By the time she crawled into her neatly made bed on Sunday night, she had decided not to go for coffee, but she would go to work. Early, in fact. She got to the office at 7:30 a.m. sharp. Once she dropped off her purse in her office, she went up three floors to the executive offices. She charged down the hallway and ran smack into Don Leed who she had never seen in the building before ten o’clock. She was so relieved she almost melted in the floor. “Mr. Leed, you’re all right.” She put her hand on his arm. “Thank God, I was so worried. Is everyone else okay?”

He removed her hand from his arm. “Of course I’m okay. Excuse me.” He walked away. “Don? What the hell is going on?” she said. “Nothing. Move on, Sophia. You’re on the wrong floor,” he threw over his shoulder as he disappeared into his office, slamming the door behind him. What the hell? She went into Ms. Relder’s office. She was seated behind her desk. “What happened? Are you okay?” Ms. Relder stood up with her coffee mug in hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sophia. Please go back to your desk.” She tried to walk past Sophia, but Sophia grabbed her arm. “What is going on? Those men with the guns—what did they do to you, Ana?” “Let go of me. And it’s Ms. Relder to you.” She yanked her hand free and tried to leave. Sophia cut her off, shutting the door, and planting herself in front of it. “Don’t you dare brush me off after that! I thought something had...had...happened to you guys.” Ms. Relder slammed her mug down on the table. “Well, obviously you’re okay. I’m not sure what you did with that man, but we can’t all slut our way out of danger.” “Excuse me?” Sophia didn’t even bother to keep her voice down. “Are you freaking insane? I didn’t slut my way out of anything. I made it out safe, no thanks to you. You tell me what happened right now or else I will call every news station in town. I’m sure the shareholders would love to hear about this. And thank you very much for your concern about me. I was sick, literally sick with worry!” Her voice had increased to a high, squeaky pitch. Ms. Relder’s face crumpled like tissue. “Keep your voice down.” She collapsed into a chair in front of her desk. “I’m trying to protect you. The less you know, the better. They didn’t hurt us. It was just a warning; they just wanted to scare

us.” She looked very old to Sophia just then, hunched in the chair. The expensive makeup couldn’t hide the bags under her eyes or the strain on her face. “I’m sorry. I can’t say any more. I’m so sorry you were put in danger.” She shook her head back and forth. “I’m so sorry.” “I don’t understand this,” Sophia said. She uncrossed her arms and sat down next to Ms. Relder. “I don’t either. I’m in over my head. Please—just forget this ever happened. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Raise? New title? I won’t ever ask you set foot in that building again,” Ms. Relder said. “Who was that man?” Sophia said. “The one you disappeared with? I’m sorry if he hurt you, Sophia,” she said. “Who is he?” Sophia asked again. “Dmitri Davydov is what he goes by. I doubt it’s his real name. He’s dangerous. Probably one of the most dangerous men in the world. I was surprised to see him there. I don’t want to say any more. Like I said, the less you know, the safer you will be.” “Why is he dangerous?” Sophia pressed. Ms. Relder tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair. “I shouldn’t be talking about this, but he’s a suspected arms dealer, and by suspected, I mean he’s never been caught. He probably moves other stuff as well. He’s under investigation in over twenty countries. He’s bad. Very bad. Powerful.” “And useful, to you,” Sophia said. Ana stared down at her hands. She looked ashamed, as she should. After a few seconds, she stood up, flicking invisible lint off her skirt. “I need to get back to work and so do you. We never had this conversation.” She walked past Sophia, holding the door open, waiting for her to leave. “I’ll see to it you get a raise.”

Sophia walked back into the hallway in a daze. She didn’t going back down the three flights of stairs or back to her office, but here she was. She forced herself to turn on her computer and start reading her emails. She threw herself into her work, growing more nervous as the end of the day approached. She’d already decided she wouldn’t meet Dmitri, assuming he would even show up. But she was curious. She wasn’t sure if he would come. She wanted to see if he would. She wanted to see him again, sick as that was. She shut down her computer at 5:30 and left, feeling numb and detached as she did so. She made the drive from the Energy Corridor to downtown, parking in a garage across from the coffee shop. She sat in her car. Minutes rolled by. The blue lights on her dashboard proclaimed it was 6:10. Was she really doing this? Was something wrong with her? She got out, walked briskly down the block, and entered the coffee shop before she could change her mind. Just getting coffee. No big deal. It was fairly busy, so she got in line in front of the . She scanned the shop and didn’t see him. Of course. She was relieved, the tension fled from her, and a little ache swelled instead. Rejection was hard, even if it was good for her. She ordered her coffee and turned to the creamer stand to sweeten it. She felt him before she saw him, casually reading a paper in the corner, acting as if he had been sitting there the whole time. She knew that red armchair had been empty only seconds before. He stood very slowly, standing so he his profile was to her. He did not look at her. He slowly folded his newspaper, straightened his collar, and started to walk towards the doorway. She watched him go. He paused at the doorway, hand on the door. He nodded so subtly it was almost imperceptible, but she understood. He wanted her to follow

him. She did, keeping some distance between them. He walked right back to the building she’d been so eager to escape just a few days ago. She followed him into the lobby, breezing past security guards that seemed to be pointedly ignoring her. He walked around the corner, ed the restrooms and then punched a code into a door pocketed in the corner of the hallway. He glanced around them. “Come,” he said, finally addressing her. She hesitated, but only for a second. She stepped in the doorway.

Chapter 3

They were in a broad stairwell with granite floors and bright red paint. A few yards in front of them, a brushed metal elevator bank gleamed softly in the dark. Like all the other hallways in this place, the lights only came on when there was movement. A couple flicked on as they stepped onto the landing, lighting them but leaving their surroundings dark. He leaned against the banister of the staircase, biceps straining against the fabric of his button-down shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest and watched her. She shifted her weight, clutching her bag and coffee tightly. Now that she was here, she wasn’t sure what to say. “You came,” she finally said. “I did,” he said. She tried to find the words to form one of the millions of questions floating around her head. “I don’t know why I’m here,” she said. He said nothing for several seconds. One of the lights flicked off, leaving only one on behind her. “You kept your word. You told no one,” he said in Russian. “I did,” she said. “I don’t know why, and I don’t understand what happened. They won’t tell me.” “It is better that you not.” He tilted his head to the side, watching her. The lights cast half of his face in shadows. “That’s not fair to me,” she said. “Why did you ask to meet?” he said. “Why won’t you answer my questions?” she said. His lips relaxed, not a smile, but not a frown either. It looked nice on him. He dropped his arms from his chest and moved closer to her. “They are not holding up their end of a deal.” “So?”

“So, that is all. I am very sorry you had to go through that, and now I want to know why you are here.” He took another step forward. She was close enough to really see him now: sharp green eyes, sandy brown hair, stern but handsome face. He towered over her and probably everyone else he met—he must have been at least six foot three, maybe even taller. He was close enough she could almost touch him. It didn’t scare her. Chills were cour and down her spine, but not the scary kind. The other kind. She didn’t have an answer to his question. “Why did you agree?” she asked. He smiled. It was the first time she’d seen it on his face, and it thrilled her that she put it there. “You are...compelling,” he said. “I am?” She stepped closer, so she could see his face in the light. “Yes,” he nodded once. His hand moved towards her very, very slowly. Some part of her brain knew she should be afraid, but she wasn’t. He lightly grazed her hand, which still clutched her forgotten coffee, with his. Her skin reacted to him, invisible lightning crackling between them. If there were ever sparks, this was it. But these weren’t sparks, these were fireworks. He ran his fingers down her arm and then lifted it away. She met his eyes, shocked to see they were smoldering. For her. What am I doing? Something inside her snapped. She threw her coffee on the ground, closed the space between them with one large step, and pressed her lips to his. He stiffened. She stepped back, color flushing her cheeks as the mortification set in.

A primal, grunting noise issued from his mouth, and he roughly pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her, crushing his mouth to hers. His kiss was hungry, like he’d been waiting for her for years. She tried to stop herself, but the explosion between their bodies had already begun. He kissed her hard, shoving his hands in her hair, melding her body to his. His tongue tangled with hers and hungrily explored her mouth with a combination of force and sensuality that robbed her of her sensibilities. No man had ever kissed her quite like this before. No man had ever kissed any woman the way he was kissing her. She moved her hands down his body, reluctantly leaving his strong shoulders but instantly rewarded with the rigid strength beneath his shirt around his biceps and chest. She wanted nothing more than to feel his skin on hers. Fire exploded inside her and she wanted him more than the force of a hurricane. She frantically pulled at his shirt, ripping the buttons off. The rest peeled off easily with his help. Muscle carved beautiful lines on his chest and abs and arms. Scars crossed his chest, each one a story she wanted to hear. His hands were up her skirt and skimmed along her hips. She pushed into him even more. He gently pulled his hands out of her skirt. She moaned as his hands moved away, but was quickly sated when he put them up her shirt. He rested his palms on her stomach, the tops of his fingers just barely flirting with the bottom of her breasts. He gently stroked her ribs and stomach before snaking his hand underneath the wire of her bra. He gently squeezed her breast, his finger and thumb quickly finding her nipples. She moaned beneath his touch. His breathing sped up, and he was rock hard against her. He was almost panting. She could tell he wanted her—bad—and it made her crazy. He moved his hands back down to her waist, then her butt. He gently lifted her

and somehow carried her into the elevator as her legs wrapped around his waist. The door shut behind them. He let go long enough to slam another button on the door. This elevator wasn’t going anywhere. He pushed her up against the wall and pulled her blouse over her head. He licked his lips, staring at her breasts, rising and falling with her rapid breath in the demi-cup of her bra. “So lovely. So very lovely,” he whispered. His eyes flicked down to her narrow waist and smooth stomach, then back up to her eyes. He was back against her, burying his face in her breasts. “So beautiful,” he murmured. She arched into him as he yanked her bra down, pulling down the thin straps on her shoulders, freeing her breasts fully. His mouth was on her nipple in an instant. His hot, wet mouth on her lit her up even more. Moisture pooled between her legs as he flicked the sensitive spot with his tongue. When she was ready to scream, he moved to her other breast, squeezing and licking until she was ready to come. He kept his mouth on her skin and skimmed his hands down her side to her legs, then back up her skirt, grabbing her panties. He pulled them down. She spread her legs and they dropped to her feet. She kicked them away. Then he stopped. “I can’t,” he said in Russian. “Can’t what?” she panted. “I can’t desecrate you in an elevator.” “Oh, yes you can. And you will.” She unbuttoned his pants and then slowly pulled down his zipper. She yanked down his underwear, freeing his impressive cock. This time, he moaned and closed his eyes as she ran her fingers down the soft skin of his shaft.

She guided him inside her. It surprised him, and his eyes flew open as he sank deep inside her. He pulled out and then sank in again, very gently. “Hard,” she whispered. His eyes widened and his smile was back. He complied with her request and pinned her against the wall with his strength. He fucked her hard, and she welcomed it, thrusting back with her own strength. They were frantic as their bodies moved against each other, rocking in and out so quickly it made her dizzy. She couldn’t get him fast or hard enough. The way her body needed his was primal. Waves of pleasure exploded from her core, sending intense pleasure coursing through her body. “Oh, God,” she moaned. He came too, moaning as he buried himself impossibly deep inside her while she quivered around him. He rested his head against her chest, breathing heavily. He finally raised his head, gently lowering her back to the ground. “I haven’t hurt you, have I?” he asked. “No, of course not. Have I hurt you?” she said. He cracked one of those rare smiles again. “That remains to be seen.” She tested out her feet. Her legs were shaky, and she could tell she was going to be sore tomorrow, but they held her weight when she stood on them. She stood up, pulling her bra back up over her breasts. He watched her and then picked up her blouse and purse to hand them to her. He pulled up his pants, but remained shirtless, watching her. “You are a very beautiful woman, Sophia.” “Thank you,” she mumbled as she re-buttoned her skirt. “I guess I should be glad no one else needed this elevator.” “It’s my private elevator,” he said.

“Oh,” she said. She didn’t know what else to say because now she was in a state of shock. Did I really just do that? Yes, she’d just had sex with him in the elevator only a few days after he’d held her at gunpoint. She wasn’t the type of girl to jump into bed with just anyone, and she certainly wasn’t the type of girl to seek out those who could harm her. For the ten millionth time that day, she questioned her sanity. Oh, my God. What have I done? She’d always felt a little cold, even when she loved someone intensely. She had a selfish, mean streak. Maybe that’s who she really was. It was a little fear she’d carried inside herself: that she was bad. He punched in a code and the elevator started to move. She quickly tried to smooth her clothes back into place, but since he was still shirtless, and her hair was messy, anyone who saw them would immediately know what they’d been doing. He moved closer to her as the elevator doors opened. “There will be no one on this level. Don’t be concerned.” He gently put her hand in his, raised it to his lips for a kiss and then led her out of the elevator. They were on the top floor—she could see for miles out the window. They went through another locked, key-coded doorway, and she stepped into what looked like a million-dollar condo. Two walls were made entirely of glass, offering a bird’s-eye view of downtown Houston and further on, stretching out toward the greenbelt of Allen Parkway. It was all one room, with a bed on a platform in the middle, a glossy, steel kitchen to one side, and a cluster of very expensive looking furniture on the other. It was a massive space, she guessed at least two thousand square feet. “Seriously?” she said. “Private elevators, hidden hallways, and this? Is this even allowed in an office building?” He shrugged. “Do you like it?” “Yes,” she said. “It’s beautiful and weird. Do you live here?” “I sleep here, sometimes.”

She nodded, walking closer to the window to ire the view. She turned to him, hands on her hips, dropping her purse on the floor. “Do you bring all your conquests here?” “I don’t have conquests. You are among a handful of people that will ever know about this space.” He moved closer, tugging at the bottom of her shirt. “Did I please you?” he murmured. “Yes,” she melted back into him, willingly raising her arms over her head so he could remove her shirt. “Did I please you?” she asked, as his hands worked on the buttons on her skirt. “Oh, yes,” he said, “very much. I would like to have you in the bed now.” With that, he easily picked her up, laying her gently on the bed. Ever the idiot, she let him. She watched him undress, toned flesh filling in every delicious gap on his body. She should stand up, leave, and never return. She knew that, but she didn’t care. He pulled off her poor, torn panties and tossed them aside. His hands were between her thighs first, before he lowered his head to her. He flicked his tongue across her nub and slid two fingers inside her, hitting just the right spot. She was already tired and sated, but soon she was bucking against him, screaming his name as she came apart again. He smiled as he shifted on top of her, holding himself up with his arms. He moved inside her, gently at first. He kissed her and then pulled away so he could see her eyes. He held her gaze as his hand swept from her outer thigh, into the curve of her hip, dancing over her ribcage, and cupping her face. He was tender with his hands, but he was rough inside of her. They came together. He collapsed beside her, breathing heavily. She felt nothing, just a deep sea of bliss that enveloped her. She was calm and peaceful. He pulled her onto him, and she rested her head on his chest. Their legs twined together as if they’d shared a bed for years. She ed some shock at his apparent affection, but it quickly disappeared beneath her sea of tranquility. She fell asleep to his fingers stroking up and down her arm, gentle as butterfly wings.

Chapter 4

Weak morning light intruded through her eyelids. Her body was sore in a nice way. She rolled over on her back, putting her wrist over her eyes. It took her a moment before she ed where she was and what she had been doing. Oh my fucking God. Yes, that’s right. She was in the bed of an international criminal. She had slept with a man that had held her at gunpoint. In fact, she had done many things with him many times in many ways overnight. And now she was waking up in his bed. She kept her eyes shut, not ready to deal with the reality that waited for her when she opened them. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her in the semi-darkness. She hadn’t even heard him breathing. “Whoa!” She shot up to a sitting position. “You startled me.” “I am sorry for that.” He held out a cup of coffee. “I was just getting ready to wake you.” She took the offered coffee with one hand, clutching the blankets up to cover her chest with the other. “Um...” she shook her head, trying to clear the sleep. “What time is it?” “Five,” he said. “You need to leave soon.” “Oh, yeah. Of course.” She took a drink of her coffee. She was embarrassed of what she’d done with him, and a little resentful that he was kicking her out. Her first one-night stand ever, and it had been with a flipping arms dealer. She scooted to the edge of the bed so she could get ready leave. He rested his hand on her arm, stopping her from leaving. “Please understand. It is best if you are not seen with me. It’s safer for you that way. If it were up to me, I would keep you with me. You should leave before it gets too light outside.” “Safe?” she echoed.

“Yes. I am always being watched,” he said. “I don’t want you to be watched, too.” “By whom?” she asked. “It is best if we discuss this another time. Do not be concerned. I will protect you,” he said. What have I gotten myself into? She was afraid, again. She smiled weakly over her coffee cup, not wanting to expose her level of her naivety just yet. She hadn’t realized danger was a factor in her one-night stand. He was watching her again, silently staring. “What?” she asked. “You are frightened,” he said in Russian. “Confused would be a more apt description,” she answered in Russian. He was very observant, and it unnerved her. “Please do not worry,” he said. She smiled again. It was becoming a nervous tick. She put her coffee on the nightstand and rummaged around for her clothes. “Time for the walk of shame,” she said as she pulled them on. “Walk of shame?” he asked. “What is that?” On top of their criminal/non-criminal divide, there was also a cultural gap. “Oh, it’s just a saying. You know, walking around in your clothes from the night before where everyone can see you. It’s obvious you had sex with someone and now you have to go home in the same clothes. It’s a joke.” He smiled. “There will be no shame if no one can see you then.” “Well,” she picked up purse, “I am parked two blocks away, so there will be a very quick walk of shame.” “Your car has been moved to the parking garage under the building,” he said.

She pulled on her shoes while she considered that. “How? Did you go through my purse to get my keys?” “No. They were next to your purse on the floor. I borrowed them and had one of my men move your car early this morning.” She nodded. She had thrown her purse on the floor yesterday, so it was likely the keys had spilled out. “Are you upset? It was my intention to help,” he said. She stood up. “That is kind of you, but I don’t like people touching my things without my permission.” “Understood.” She picked up her purse. “Well...um...goodbye.” He wrapped his arms around her, crushing her lips to his in a pretty intense kiss for the morning. He tasted like coffee, and her insides went gooey. Damn, he was good at that, and everything else… He pulled back, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear then ran his finger down her cheekbone. He pushed a sticky note into her hand without breaking eye . “This is how you can me.” It was a phone number with the name ‘Gram’ written in neat Cyrillic script, easy for her to read due to her years of studying Russian. “Who is Gram?” “He knows how to reach me. Leave a detailed message.” He kissed her forehead. “I wish to hear from you again, but I understand if I do not.” She nodded and turned away from him. He walked her to his private elevator, punched in a code so she could get in, and selected a floor for her. “Gomez will be waiting for you when the door opens. He will escort you to your vehicle,” he said. “Oh, okay. Um...thanks,” she said.

He stepped out of the elevator, eyes on her. “I hope to see you again, Sophia,” he said as the doors rolled close. She relaxed when they did and leaned against the wall of the elevator. She tipped her head back and exhaled slowly. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.” Had she really just done that? All of that? Judging by the way her inner thighs were complaining about her spike heels, she indeed had. The door dinged open to a waiting burly, tall, Asian man. “Gomez?” she asked. He nodded. She followed him down the hall, through the end of the lobby, and back into the staircase she ed from a few days ago. When you were held at gunpoint, the sane part of her brain reminded her. He walked her to the small elevator, swiped a keycard, and down they went. Soon, she was walking out the same door into the same garage, except this time her car was parked right there. “Thanks.” She got in her car. He stood and watched her until she had exited the parking garage. She drove back to her condo, blaring the music to try and drown out the thoughts in her head. It didn’t work. Stupid and naïve were not normally words she would use to describe herself, but this was totally out of hand. She thought of calling her shrink, but then what? Could she even really tell him about screwing a criminal after being held at gunpoint? He could probably tell the authorities if there was imminent danger. She went on and on, trying to imagine the possible scenarios that could arise from a simple conversation. The ramifications of every single action involving Dmitri were so far reaching. She made it back home by 5:30 since there was no traffic. She felt some relief at entering her condo. When she crossed the threshold and saw the framed picture, she laid it face down with a shaking hand. She was ashamed to see the two faces within the four corners. Instead, she went into her bathroom. She removed her wrinkled blouse, smelling faintly of her perfume and something else. She sniffed it. Cologne. His Cologne. Wow. Sexy.

“No, damn it,” she said out loud. She threw it in her laundry basket, along with her skirt and bra. The panties—barely held together by small threads—went into the wastebasket. She took her time in the shower, letting the hot water cascade down her head and back long after she was clean. What the hell was she doing, giving herself so freely to any man, especially one as dangerous as Dmitri? Idiot. She leaned her forehead against the tile. Why? Because she was drawn to him like a magnet. Because every atom in her body moved toward him whenever he was around. Because he was hot. “Ugh,” she said. She couldn’t let herself do this. He was an arms dealer. He was powerful. Was she one of those pathetic women who were drawn to men with power? When did that happen? She brushed that thought aside for now. She drank her coffee on her little back porch that overlooked the bayou. The mosquitoes were already out in full force, buzzing around her hands and feet, the only flesh exposed in her long silky robe. She tried not to think of him, but she couldn’t help but the tangle of soft sheets and limbs from the night before. Not to mention the hot elevator sex. He was definitely a man’s man. A man that knows what he’s doing. He took care of her needs first. She’d never been fucked like that in her life and probably never would again. She couldn’t wait to see him again. Damn it. Stop. She threw her now cold coffee over the balcony. That’s all it was, sex. It was over. “Done,” she said out loud. She slid her patio door shut behind her.

One hour later, she walked past a very surprised Marsha and sat at her desk at 7:45 a.m. Marsha followed her in. “Everything okay, Sophia?” “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?” Marsha tucked a loose strand of hair back into her low, neat ponytail. “No reason, ma’am. I’m just not used to seeing you here so early.” “I’m fine, thanks.” Sophia booted up her computer and sank into her chair. Marsha was still standing in front of her desk, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She was younger than Sophia, a fresh college graduate Sophia snapped up a couple of years ago at a college recruiting fair. “Anything else?” Sophia asked. “Um...Ms. Relder was hanging around here just a few minutes ago,” Marsha said. “What do you mean?” Sophia typed in her , eyes glued to her screen. “I mean, she was hanging around your door. She asked if you were here. I told her no. I asked if she wanted to along a message. She said no. She said not to tell you anything, so I...” She let her voice trail off. Sophia leaned back in her chair. “I appreciate the heads-up. Don’t worry, this conversation never happened.” “Thanks,” Marsha said, and she was gone. Sophia shut the door behind her, something she rarely did. She flipped through her email impatiently, scanning for anything urgent. She was home free. She opened the shared network drive. Since she was the manager responsible for personnel and benefits companywide, she had full access to everything. She found the EBCasp National folder soon enough and paused. Would anyone

be able to tell if she had been in here digging around? Of course they would, but what could they possibly do to her after the mess of a meeting they’d pulled her into? Hell, a gun had already been pulled on her. By Dmitri, her sane self reminded her. She double clicked. Thousands of files filled her screen. She had no idea where to start. She scrolled down, reading the file names as she went. “Contracts,” she said out loud. She opened it. The first document was a t venture agreement. She opened it. To her dismay, it was over two hundred pages long. Seriously? “Sophia,” Marsha’s voice came over her intercom, causing her to jump. “Ms. Relder’s coming in.” Sophia barely had time to close the document and minimize the folder before her door swung open. “Hi, Sophia,” Ms. Relder said. She had a big smile stretched across her perfectly made-up face. “Good morning,” Sophia answered. Ms. Relder sat in one of the plush chairs in front of Sophia’s desk. “What can I help you with, Ms. Relder?” Sophia said. “Oh, nothing. I just wanted to see how you are doing,” she said. Sophia’s eyebrows arched just about as high as they could go. “Um...I’m fine, thanks.” She swiveled her chair closer to her computer, itching to get back into the folder. “Is there anything I can help you with, Ms. Relder?” “Oh, Sophia. You can call me Ana.” Sophia smiled, matching Ana’s fakeness. “Okay, Ana. Thanks, that’s really nice.” This was getting weird.

“I just wanted to let you know that if you ever need to talk things out, I’m here. I know it can be a strange work environment around here, and we women need to stick together in this world.” Sophia’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. Having a gun pointed at me is a little strange,” she said. “Sophia,” Ana hissed. She glanced at the partially open door “Keep your voice down.” “Oh for Pete’s sake,” Sophia said. She put her elbows on the desk, leaned forward, and looked Ana directly in her eyes. The outer edges of Ana’s eyes were pulled up and back just enough to make it obvious she’d had a face lift at some point. It gave her a creepy, slightly alien look. “Drop the act. Why are you really here?” Ana’s eyes widened. “I just want to make sure you’re okay with everything. We are really concerned about you.” “We?” Sophia said. “The board. We want to make sure you are well taken care of,” she said. “You mean you want to make sure I’m going to keep my mouth shut,” Sophia retorted. “Don’t worry,” she took her elbows off the desk and turned to her computer again, “I won’t say a word…for now.” She stared at her screen, opened her email, and started reading. After a couple of minutes, the chair creaked as Ana stood up and left her office. Sophia pulled out her notebook and returned her attention to the t venture agreement. She wrote some of the company names listed in the contract: LAMBZZ Holdings, PT124 Upstream XYZ, LexyZ LLC. She didn’t recognize any of them, and the names seemed like randomly chosen letters. It was weird. The agreement was a t venture for the purpose of exploring oil and gas properties in Liberia and Brazil. She wrote that down, too.

She finally shut the folder down and opened her email again. She should probably actually get some work done today. Her interview schedule was pretty full, and she had several requisitions to go over. She took a swig of her coffee. It made her think of the coffee she had dropped in the hallway to EBCasp, which made her think of Dmitri, which made her think of his... Damn it. She was aroused just thinking about him and his sea green eyes and handsome face and sensuous body. Even the thought of him with the gun in his hand, commanding everyone was not scary anymore. It was...sexy. She flinched. She was wrong to think those things. Dmitri was wrong. What they did was wrong. She pulled out the small yellow slip of paper with Gram’s phone number. She started to rip it into small pieces, but after only a tiny tear she stopped. She shoved it on the corner of her desk under an ugly paperweight she had received on her five year anniversary with the company. Not yet. She had some more digging to do. She shoved her less than pure thoughts to the side and focused on her requisitions. She was a professional, damn it. “Sophia?” Marsha was leaning on her doorframe. “Yes?” “I’m headed out for lunch. Want me to grab you anything?” she asked. “No, I’m going out myself. Thanks.” She gathered her purse, logged out of her computer, and started towards her door. She stared at the little yellow note under the paperweight before shoving it deep inside her purse. She purchased a sandwich from one of the cafeterias in the company’s complex

before planting herself on a shaded bench under a tree to eat in peace. When she had first interviewed at Red Bluff International after college, she thought it looked like a college campus. She didn’t think that now, since college had been a fun, carefree place. The neatly trimmed grass, artfully placed ponds, and breezeways that connected the series of fifteen story buildings were no longer cheery and bright; they were the outward signs of a too-rich oil company with dirty hands. Of course, she was no saint. She looked down at her hands, ing the feel of Dmitri’s hard body beneath them. The fire that connected them when they touched. It was the first time she felt anything in a long time. She’d been...still inside, since Josh. She swallowed back the tears at the thought of him. No. I can’t. I won’t. She crumpled her sandwich wrapper and walked back to her office. She had more research to do.

Chapter 5

Sophia spent the rest of her day ensconced in her office, reviewing the contracts in the folder, and taking notes. By the end of the day, she was pitifully behind in her requisitions, but had a long list of corporate names and notes on the documents she had read. She cursed herself for not taking more business law classes. She only had a rudimentary understanding of corporate entities. She left, taking her notebook with her. The crumpled piece of yellow paper still occupied a corner of her purse. She practically ran to her car, mind filled with the jumbled thoughts of all the research she had done. It was starting to darken outside, filling the edges of the structure with thick shadows. When did it get so late? One of the shadows moved. Her hairs stood on end, warning her that she was being watched very carefully. The man shifted again, deeper into the shadows. She picked up her pace and reached her car. She fumbled with her keys before her engine roared to life, automatically locking all the doors around her. She was safe in her steel cocoon. She peeled out of the garage and took the long way home. Coincidence. Just a coincidence. Probably someone waiting for a ride or something. Maybe it was Dmitri. She wanted to see him. Bad. After the car rolled to a stop in her designated parking spot at her condominium complex, she fished out the yellow piece of paper and her cell phone. She punched in the numbers and held it to her ear.

What am I doing? “Gram,” a deep voice answered. “Um...I’m looking for Dmitri,” she said. “And you are?” She couldn’t answer. She shouldn’t be doing this. “Hello?” he said again. She hung up and shoved her phone back in her purse. She dropped her forehead to her steering wheel, bumping it lightly. She desperately wanted to see Dmitri again. But she wouldn’t. No. She would be strong. She left her car, slamming the door behind her before she changed her mind. Once inside her condo, she scoured her refrigerator for dinner. It was filled with healthy food. Not what she wanted tonight. She found an opened bottle of pinot noir in the back of her fridge and a tub of chocolate ice cream in the freezer. Perfect. She sat on the couch, flipped to the news, and used a spoon to scoop the ice cream right out of the tub. Ice cream was no substitute for sex with dreamy Russian guys, but it was the best she could do for her raging hormones. She was on her third glass of wine when her phone buzzed with an unknown number. Was it him? She sat up straight on her couch and wiped the chocolate off her face. He couldn’t see her, but it seemed right. “Hello?” she answered, trying to purr like a kitten. It was a telemarketer. She hung up mid-pitch and sunk back into the couch. She

had reached new levels of pathetic. She was a little tipsy and very hungry for real food now, so she ordered a pizza from the greasy t down the street. She changed into short cotton shorts and a flimsy camisole top to fend off the inevitable Houston humidity and sank back into her couch. The chime of her doorbell filled her living room ten minutes later. “Hold on, I’m coming!” she called. “You guys are so fast!” She pulled a twenty out of her wallet, pulled her straps up to make sure her camisole was covering most of her cleavage, and threw open the door. Six feet of Russian hotness filled the frame. “You called for me,” he said. She wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a question. “How did—” “Caller ID, address in the phonebook,” he responded to her unfinished question. “May I?” He gestured to the inside of her condo. “Yes, of course, please.” She ran her fingers through her hair to fluff it and then ed that was something women did when they were self-conscious. Hopefully she didn’t have ice cream smeared across her face. He stepped through her doorway, brushing her bare arm with his. Tingles rushed through her arm. She closed the door and locked it behind him. His tall frame dwarfed her abode. He was dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, both of which looked like they were straining to contain his muscles. He didn’t make a sound as he came in. Tension sculpted his shoulders and arms. His green eyes moved around her space, taking in her overstuffed couch and recliner, and her bookshelves crammed with books and random knick-knacks from around the world. She reddened when his eyes rested on the half melted container of ice cream and

wine bottle occupying her coffee table. His shoulders dropped, and a smile blossomed across his face. She liked that smile. He rotated so he was facing her again. “I am very glad you called, though it helps if you talk when you do. I was worried something was wrong.” “Sorry,” she mumbled. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “The call got disconnected, and I got caught up with something else.” “I see,” he said, eyes moving from her to the wine and ice cream. She laughed, and it made him smile again. “I’m surprised to see you. I thought you were being watched.” “I was not followed here,” he said. “Um...okay,” she said. “That’s evasive.” “Your home is very nice,” he said. “I like it,” he said in Russian. “Evasive again, but thank you,” she replied. “It’s a bit cluttered. I wasn’t expecting company.” He stepped closer, closing the space between them. He leaned down so his face was near hers. “Would you like me to leave?” he whispered. She squirmed under his gaze. “No.” “I’m glad.” He stepped back and walked into her kitchen. “Very nice,” he mumbled, patting her stainless steel stovetop. She followed him, iring him while his back was turned. “I’m sorry, my manners are not very good this evening. Can I offer you something to drink?” “Whatever you are having is fine,” he said. She turned away from him so she could get a wine glass from the cabinet. Feeling his eyes on her, she reached for one on the highest shelf, standing on her tiptoes, camisole riding up and exposing her skin. Not so subtle.

His eyes were burning with desire when she turned around, like he wanted to eat her. And she liked it. Her insides lurched at the thought of his very skilled mouth on her body again. “Come,” she said, her voice faltering ever so slightly. Hopefully he didn’t notice. He followed her to the living room. She bent over a little more than she needed to pour him the wine, using her body to block him from view so he wouldn’t see her shaking hands. She handed him the wine. She sat down on the couch, expecting him to sit, too. But he didn’t. He wandered around her living room, looking at the pictures on the walls, stooping to examine the objects filling her bookshelves. “Very interesting.” He stood up, straightening his back. “Which one?” she asked. “All of it.” He used his finger to draw a lazy circle around his head. He stayed on the other side of the room. Was he avoiding being near her? “Why don’t you come sit?” she said. “Thank you,” he said. He put his wine glass down then sat down next to her, draping his arm across the back of the sofa. “Why did you call?” he said. She stared at her hands while they kneaded nervous circles on her lap. “Because you gave me your info,” she said. “Sophia, please look at me.” She did. The invisible magnet between them burst to life, pulling them together. His lips lightly brushed hers. She was falling into him when two loud thumps boomed through the room. He moved so fast it was a blur, and she found herself

snuggled against empty space. He was approaching the door, hand poised over the small of his back. “It’s late for company,” he growled. “Whoa, whoa,” she stood up, “I ordered pizza.” “Oh,” he said. His shoulders relaxed, and his hands fell to his side. She brushed ed him, gently propelling him out of her way so she could open the door and pay the pizza delivery boy. Dmitri eyed the pizza that she slung on the kitchen counter. “Do you have a gun?” she asked. “I am a gun owner, yes,” he answered. “Do you have one on you right now?” she asked. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Why do you think that?” “More questions. Never answers,” she said. She moved towards him, trapping him in her kitchen. She went closer, brushing her hand down his shoulder to the small of his back. She spun him around so his back was to her. He didn’t object. There, tucked into the back of his jeans, was a hard lump. She tapped on it. “This,” she said. “This is a gun, which you almost pulled on that poor pizza delivery boy.” He grabbed her hand, lifted it off his gun and then rotated his body so he was facing her. “Instead the poor boy was faced with a busty woman wearing a flimsy top with no bra. I’m surprised he was able to speak.” Still holding her hand, he pulled her close, pushing his body into hers. She could feel his excitement pressing into her hip. “I’m surprised I’m able to speak.” She shifted into him, feeling his warmth through her clothes. He stepped out of her embrace, cruelly taking his body a couple of feet away from hers.

But a smile played at his lips. He held both of his well-muscled hands over his head in mock surrender. Moving with care, he dropped his right hand, extracted the handgun wrapped in a holster from the back of his pants, and placed it on the counter. “I’m unarmed now.” He dropped his hands back to his sides. “I think it’s only fair you take something off in exchange.” His smile returned, and this time there were dimples. He looked like a normal guy, instead of the powerful, dangerous man he was. Oh, wow. She smiled back. “You want me to take an article of clothing off my body in exchange for you disarming yourself?” “Yes,” he said. He looked positively devilish. “Anything?” She flicked the strap of her camisole. “Oh yes.” He licked his lips. “Okay,” she said. She tipped her head to the side, allowing her eyes to roam up and down his body. She took off her white gold hoop earrings and placed them on the counter next to his gun. “There,” she said, “I believe we are even.” He stepped forward, placed his hands on her hips, and backed her up until her butt was against the counter, her front inches away from him. “Are you toying with me, Sophia? Because I am already tortured.” “Oh?” she whispered. He moved even closer. She was trapped against the counter. Their bodies were only an inch apart. “You may not want to do that,” he said. She lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper. “Oh, I think I do.” He shoved her against the counter and collided his mouth with hers. His hands were wrapped around her shoulders, forcing her face to his. She jumped on the counter and wrapped her legs around his waist. He ran his

hands down the length of her legs. “I like you like this,” he murmured, “wrapped around me.” His lips traveled down her neck and into the swell of her breasts above the silky fabric of her top. “Oh, Sophia. This silly little thing.” He ripped the camisole in half, literally tearing it off of her body. It was the sexiest thing ever. She became frantic for him again and pulled his shirt over his head. He pulled off her shorts and underwear with one skillful grab, and she was hungry against him. He yanked down his pants just far enough to expose his impressive manhood. He used one arm to hold her up, the other massaging her breast. He gently rolled her nipples between his fingers. Fuck. She was already wet. “Now,” she whispered. “Are you sure?” He paused, the tip of his cock near her entry, just out of her reach. “Yes.” He slammed into her roughly. She took him all in, relishing his fullness inside her. “Yes!” she yelled. She tilted her hips up and rocked against him. He was rough, fucking her hard, pinning her painfully against her kitchen counter. She opened herself up to him more, accepting the discomfort. It excited her. His face was on her, watching her enjoy herself. It was the most sensual thing a man had ever done. She built up quickly and quivered around him, whimpering as she did. He followed soon after, shouting in Russian as he found his release. He nuzzled her breasts. “Damn it, Sophia,” he said in English. “Damn it.”

She was slumped on the counter, leaned up against the fridge on her left side. Pleasure still radiated through her body, making her fingers and toes tingle. “What?” she said. “I am touching madness.” He lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers. She slid off the counter. He took a tiny step back since his pants were still around his legs. His face was confused as he watched her. She nuzzled against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. “It’s okay,” she said. He folded his arms around her and clutched her tightly. Their embrace lingered for minutes. Why does he need me to comfort him? It was intense and strange. She tipped her head up so she could see his face. “Um...would you like some pizza?” she said. His chest shook with laughter against her chin. “Please.” She stepped away from him, pulling on her underwear and shorts while he pulled up his pants. She picked up the torn camisole. “You owe me a shirt.” He zipped his pants and then returned his gaze to her. “I much prefer you do not wear a shirt. Ever again.” He fastened the button above his zipper. “Nonetheless...” she said, smiling. She pressed the scraps of fabric from her camisole against her bare chest. “I’m going to grab some fresh clothes. Can you pull out some plates?” He nodded. She went down the hall and closed her bedroom door behind her, leaning on it for . After her thoughts slowed down enough for her to move, she threw the scraps of her ruined camisole in the trash and pulled out a tank top, fresh shorts, and a pair

of underwear. When she returned to the kitchen, Dmitri was fully dressed in his now rumpled clothes. He’d set out two plates and a roll of paper towels. She put a piece of pizza on his plate, then served herself. She tore into it. She’d worked up quite an appetite. He watched her closely, a smile pulling at his lips. “What?” she asked, using a napkin to cover her mouth. “I like watching you eat. Your mouth is sexy,” he said. “Stop,” she said. “It’s hardly sexy to watch me stuff my face.” He only grunted in response. They watched each other over the table, but didn’t speak. The silence stretched out, but she didn’t feel awkward. He pushed his empty plate to the side. “I’m tired. A very beautiful woman with luscious tits kept me up half the night.” She took his plate and stacked it with hers. “Well, that wasn’t very nice of her,” she said. He was all dimples again. “I’m an old man, Sophia.” She left him alone at the table to place the dirty plates in the kitchen sink. “Then we should go to bed, old man,” she called out over her shoulder. “You would like me to stay?” His voice came from right behind her. She jumped —she hadn’t heard him come into the kitchen. “Yes,” she said. “Then I will.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling his chin into the back of her neck. She was sore, and she was tired, but her body shot off like a rocket anyway. She grabbed his hand pulled him into her bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

He kissed her, feeling her breasts beneath her clothes. His hand wandered down to her core, gently cupping and massaging her. She pulled off his shirt and then hers. She pushed him down on the bed then straddled him, exploring the carved muscle of his chest with her mouth. She found a small ridge of scar tissue beneath his left ribcage and kissed it gently. He grunted, grabbed her arm, and pushed her off so he could be on top of her. He pulled down her shorts and underwear, leaving a trail of kisses down her thighs and calf. He was slow and controlled this time, gently bringing her to orgasm, watching her the entire time he made love to her.

Chapter 6

“Who are the man and child in the picture by your front door?” Her body jerked. She’d been nearly asleep when his voice came into her ear. He tightened his hold. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. “It’s fine. I thought you were asleep,” she said. “Well?” he prompted. “Well, what?” she asked. “Who are they?” he said. She lifted her chin so it rested on his chest. “Why do you get to know about me, but I know nothing about you?” “Ask,” he said in Russian. “Are you married? Have you been married?” He wrapped a strand of her long blond hair around his finger. “I’ve not taken a woman in years,” he said. “Yes or no?” she prompted. She could see him smile, even in the dark. “No, I am not married. I was when I was very young. More questions?” “Yes.” She rested her cheek against his chest. “A million.” He chuckled softly. “Your turn. The boy, the man?” She took a deep, shaky breath. “My husband and stepson. They’re dead.” He continued playing with her hair. He didn’t offer condolences or rush to say he was sorry for her loss. She should be offended, but it was a refreshing reaction. She was tired of sympathy and sorrow. It overwhelmed her when people felt sorry for her. It

pushed her back into her dark cave, and she was tired of living in the dark. “When? How?” he finally asked. “A year ago. Car accident.” He was silent again, but he tightened his hold on her. “My turn?” she said. “Yes,” he answered. “What is your profession?” she asked. “I’m a businessman,” he said. He paused twirling her hair. “What is your business?” she asked. “International trade,” he said. She turned her face towards him. He was watching her in the dark, something between a frown and a smile on his face. He looked...dangerous. “Weapons?” His broad shoulders stiffened. She stiffened, too. Stupid Sophia—was this guy even safe to be around? “Who told you?” he said. “What did they say?” “Hey!” She sat up, keeping one hand on his chest so he stayed down. “That’s not fair. I want to ask you stuff without worrying what you’re going to do.” His smile was back. “I like you in charge. Please get on top of me.” “No,” she shook her head, but pushed herself higher, “I’m serious.” “Fine.” He sat up. They were face to face, with nothing between them. “I’m not a good man. Is that what you want to hear, Sophia?” She pushed him back down. Some of the anger left his face.

“There are good parts,” she said. She trailed a finger down the center of his chest, his sculpted arms, resting her hand near her favorite part. “Tell me.” “It is best that I do not.” She was silent. The crickets chirped outside, and the whirring fan blew strands of her hair around her face. Finally, he answered. “Arms, yes. Not all bad, Sophia. A lot of countries won’t sell directly to some countries. That’s where I assist. I have never been arrested or charged.” “But you have done bad things?” She tried not to let hope of a reassurance that all was well creep into her voice, but it did anyways. “Yes,” he growled. He sat up again and pushed her down against the mattress, using his hands to gently hold her arms above her head, leaving her stomach and breasts exposed in the cool air. His face was a storm of expressions. “Do you want to talk more, or shall I make you scream my name?” Goosebumps ran down her spine. Whether they were rooted in fear or desire, she wasn’t sure, and she didn’t care. She nodded. “What does that mean? Do you want me?” He pressed her arms down harder, but still careful not to hurt her. “Yes,” she said. “Tell me,” he said. “I want you.” She was afraid of him. She was hungry for him. She was sick. He released her arms, stroking them with his fingers. He buried his face in her breasts and teased her taut nipples with his tongue as his fingers slid in and out of her. She bucked, pressing her hips into him. He pulled away.

“Please,” she whimpered. He lowered his face so his lips were on her ear. “I want you to say my name when I make you scream.” He left his hands on her breasts, but then his mouth was on her core, expertly using his tongue on her nub. She exploded into a million stars, screaming his name.

* * *

She woke up early. Damn early. 5:30 a.m. One of his arms was draped over her. She lifted it carefully so she could roll away from him. He stirred, but didn’t wake. She slipped on a robe and made her way to the kitchen. Soon, she was humming quietly to herself while she made a very strong pot of coffee. She pulled out her favorite mug, a battered and chipped one from the Alamo gift store in San Antonio. She put it on the counter, right next to the gun. It was just a handgun, but it was there on her counter. This is Texas, after all. No biggie. But it was a big deal. It belonged to a criminal. A man who was sleeping in her bed. She poured her cup, not bothering with creamer. She stepped out on her porch to listen to the frogs and birds greet the sun. She let a little smile creep on her face as she sank gingerly into one of the chairs. She was sore, but in a good way. She’d definitely need a little break from sex. She smiled again, crossing her legs. The sun was creeping over the horizon,

spilling light across her skin. “May I you?” He was standing shirtless behind her, mug clutched in one hand. “Please.” She extended a leg to nudge a chair towards him. He sat next to her, but said nothing. She watched him drink his coffee. He watched her back. “I like the way you look after I’ve ravaged you. You are most beautiful without makeup,” he said. “Or clothes.” She smiled over her cup. “Thank you. You are beautiful without your shirt.” He returned her smile. “I have called my driver. I know you must work today. I hope I have not disrupted your routine.” She finished her coffee and stood. “You have disturbed my routine greatly. You are welcome to do so anytime.” She moved towards the door to head inside. He grabbed her arm, stopping her beside him. “Do you mean that, or do you play with your words?” She stood in front of him, staring at his muscular hands around her forearm. “Yes, I mean it.” She pulled her hand back. “Don’t you ever make me declare myself in the morning before I’ve had at least two cups of coffee.” He grabbed her hand and kissed it. “My apologies, lyubimaya.” Beloved, he called me his beloved. She felt warm inside, but didn’t respond to his term of endearment. He followed her in as a car honked outside. He pulled her into a tight embrace. “Goodbye.” He pulled his shirt over his head with a sheepish smile and then disappeared out the front door. She fought the urge to chase him down, to kiss him one more time. “Christ,” she said. She poured more coffee. “Damn it. Don’t you dare.”

She stepped into her bathroom and peered at herself in the mirror over the marbled sink. She was all rosy red cheeks and sparkling eyes. Happiness returning after a year of deadness. But it was wrong. It couldn’t work. On her way out the door, she spotted his gun on the counter. Oh, well. A reason for him to come back, though she didn’t think he needed a special reason.

Chapter 7

Andrea peered over the rim of her margarita glass at Sophia. “What’s up with you?” she said. She tossed her long curtain of black hair over her shoulder. “What do you mean?” Sophia took a sip of her matching margarita. They’d met at one of their favorite restaurants that had two dollar mini margaritas during the lunch hour. Andrea licked the salt from the rim of her glass. “Oh, you know. Rosy cheeks. Stars in your eyes. You’re distracted.” Sophia shook out her napkin. “Whatever.” Andrea set her now empty glass down. “You haven’t agreed to margarita lunch in forever. It’s not nothing.” She straightened her silverware. “Did you get laid?” “Andrea!” Sophia giggled. She hadn’t realized she’d been so obvious. “You’re terrible, you know.” Andrea nodded her head, very slowly. “Uh huh. No denials. That means I’m right.” She folded her hands together and waggled her eyebrows. “Who is it? The hot guy from ing who’s been hitting on you at meetings?” “No.” She shook her head. “No way. He’s an overgrown frat boy.” “Then who?” Andrea said. Sophia forced a smile on her face. The shame nagging at her conscience fought with the buoyancy she felt. Andrea was still watching her, waiting for a response. The waitress saved her by sliding matching plates filled with cheese enchiladas covered with green hatch chili sauce. Sophia grabbed her fork and dug in, successfully stopping the conversation. Andrea dropped it, but probably not for long. Andrea never let anything go, and she knew Sophia better than anyone. She couldn’t tell her. Couldn’t tell anyone. She’d slept with a bad man. A very bad man. And she wanted to see him again. So badly.

She finished her lunch with flushed cheeks and made it back to her office by 1:30. The margarita wasn’t strong or large enough to make her feel buzzed, but she still chewed a piece of gum to get the taste out of her mouth. Behind the halfway closed door of her office, she was safe again. She exhaled deeply, letting the stress of hiding a secret from Andrea escape her. She opened her email and let her eyes run over the emails in her inbox. But she didn’t read them, didn’t understand them, and didn’t even really see them. She was thinking about him. They way he’d fucked her in her kitchen. The way he’d stared at her when he left. The gun he’d left on her counter. She’d been so comfortable. Not afraid. But it was sex. Just sex. She pulled the note from her purse with Gram’s number on it, turning it over in her hands. No. She shoved it back in her purse. She was done. Very done with him. She shouldn’t have done what she did, and it was over. She wouldn’t feed the little dark parts of her soul any longer. She had just put her purse on the floor when Marsha buzzed her over the intercom. “Sophia?” “Yes,” she said, a little impatiently. “There’s a delivery for you,” Marsha said. “Send it in.” It was probably a small gift from one of the recruiting agencies she used to fill some of the more complex positions. As long as it was valued under twenty dollars, she was allowed to accept them, though she’d made it clear she preferred no gifts.

She turned back to her keyboard, eager to get as much work done as she possibly could. She heard her door squeak open, followed by silence. She turned to see the man holding the massive rose bouquet. Her eyes flew from the roses and back to his face. “Dmitri!” she hissed. She leapt out of her chair. “What are you? Why...?” She glanced around him at the halfway open door. He placed them on her desk. “These are for you. Three dozen, one was not enough.” She moved closer to him, running her fingers over the soft petals. “These are beautiful. Thank you.” She glanced at him, clad in jeans and a polo shirt. They looked so casual and wrong on his body. She was sure they weren’t his usual garb. “And thank you for delivering them. In person. To me.” He smiled. “It appears no one questions a man with flowers.” He kept his eyes on her, pushing the door closed with his foot. “I had to see you,” he whispered. It clicked shut, and her heart raced faster. He closed the space between them and pressed his lips against hers. She didn’t resist. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed her body into his. His lips moved across hers. He nipped her lower lip and then kissed her more forcefully. She fell into him even more. But she was at work. Anyone could walk in at any moment. This was her work space. She pulled away. “We can’t do this here.” He cocked a half smile and kissed her on the forehead. “I will leave then, moya devockha.” He was gone, quietly shutting the door behind him, after calling her ‘my girl.’ Damn it. She turned back to her requisitions and her now crowded inbox. No more

Dmitri. No more. She kicked herself for kissing him. For throwing herself at him as soon as he’d shown up. She left the flowers at work, doling out half of them into a clear vase for Marsha. Marsha had questioned her extensively, but hadn’t seemed to notice anything strange about the man that had delivered them. Impulsively, Sophia grabbed one of the roses out of the vase right before she walked out the door. Back at her apartment, she left the little yellow piece of paper with his number buried in her purse. She cooked a small dinner, judiciously avoiding even touching the firearm on her counter. She watched TV, which did nothing to ease her restless mind. She filled a tall glass with water, cut the stem of the rose, and plopped it in there. She set in on the counter, pleased with the affect. She didn’t know why she took only one rose home. She should have thrown them all in the trash. It was almost like a trophy, like she had earned the iration of this man and should be proud of it. And she was, a little, but it made her feel wrong to think of it that way. She tried not to think of him. It will . Just a crush, an infatuation, maybe. And a good lay, that’s for damn sure. Every woman should get screwed like that at least once in her life. When it was very late, much later than she would normally stay up, she bolted her front door and turned on her porch light, like she always did. She picked up the picture of the man and the boy and stared at them for a long time before putting it back and going to bed.

Chapter 8

“Sophia, there’s a Dmitri from EBCasp National on line two,” Marsha said. “Thanks. I’ll pick it up,” Sophia said over the intercom. She took a sip of her bottled water then picked up her phone. “This is Sophia,” she said in her fake, professional voice. “Sophia,” he said. His voice was deeper than she ed. She crossed her legs, a reminder of sensitive places that were still a little sore from their activities from earlier in the week. “I’m surprised to hear your voice,” she said “Three days with no phone call,” he said. “It’s almost as if you do not want to hear my voice.” She had worked hard not to call him, and she had succeeded. She told herself she didn’t call him because she didn’t want to see him, but that was an intense lie. She was playing a game. A dangerous one at that. Dmitri, like any other man, liked the chase. A least a little bit...“I’m glad you called. How did you manage? Aren’t you being watched?” “Not all the time. Besides, I’m using a secretary’s line here.” “Oh,” she said. “I would like to see you,” he said. “May I take you out for dinner?” “Um...how is that going to work?” she said. “I’m a free man, not an escaped convict. I will make the arrangements. A car will pick you up at seven.” She twirled her finger around her pen. “You left your…thing at my house,” she said. “Keep it. Seven?” “What use do I have for it?” she said.

“Every person should have a way to defend herself. I will see you tonight. I’m looking forward to it.” Then he hung up. She didn’t saying yes. Damn control freak. She couldn’t help the smile that broke out on her face. Tonight. Dmitri. Dinner. She couldn’t wait to see him. “What the hell is going on?” Ms. Relder shoved her door open so hard, it bounced against the wall and rebounded into her hip. She shoved it out of the way. Marsha came in behind her. “Sorry, Sophia. I tried—” Her voice cut off at the sight of Ms. Relder’s face. Sophia stood up and placed herself between Ms. Relder and Marsha. “That’s absolutely fine. Thank you, Marsha. Please close the door on your way out.” Sophia watched Marsha with her scared, pale face back out of the office. She turned her attention to Ms. Relder. “And what is this?” Sophia said. “You. What the hell do you think you are doing?” Ms. Relder said. For the first time, Sophia saw her hands were full of files. Ms. Relder moved past Sophia, slamming them on her desk. Sophia’s paperweight rolled off. “Do not touch my desk.” Sophia bent over to pick up her paperweight. “Special request from a valued client.” Ms. Relder used her fingers to make air quotes around client. “They have asked for a secondment. From you. To work there.” “Secondment?” Sophia echoed. “Yes, a secondment, where you will be temporarily assigned to work out of their office and handle their issues, but still be on our payroll.” “I know what a secondment is,” Sophia snapped. “With whom?”

“Who do you think? EBCasp National.” She placed her hands on her broad hips. “I don’t know what your game is, but you better tell me fast.” Sophia stifled a smile. “I guess you would be the one to explain, Ana. After all, it was you that pulled me into this client meeting. Perhaps it is my knowledge of Russian language and culture.” “How dare you!” Ms. Relder’s face morphed into a kaleidoscope of mottled red and purple. “What have you done? Why are they interested in you?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sophia said. The buzzing of her intercom made them both jump. “Sophia, Dmitri from EBCasp on line one again,” Marsha said. “Tell him I will call him back,” Sophia said as steady as she could. Ms. Relder gaped at Sophia. Marsha’s voice came back over the speaker. “Um...Sophia? He said it was urgent.” Sophia picked up the handset. “Yes, Dmitri?” “I love your voice, did you know that?” he said in Russian. Sophia suppressed another smile. “How can I help you?” she said in a formal tone. “You are not alone?” he said. “No. Ms. Relder is here with me,” she said. Ms. Relder gasped. “Tell that cunt to shut her fucking mouth about me, then. By the way, I have arranged it so we will be working closely together. I hope you don’t mind.” “I noticed. We shall discuss it later.” “Yes, Sophia,” he growled. His voice held promises she couldn’t think about at

the moment. “Goodbye, Dmitri.” She hung up the phone. “Dmitri? Why is he calling you?” Ms. Relder stepped closer to her desk. “I’m working with my new client which I have been seconded to by this organization. Is there anything else, Ms. Relder?” Sophia forced her fingers to move back over her keyboard, eyes glued to the screen. “You better tell me, or else—” Sophia cut her off. “Or else what, Ms. Relder? You will go to the board? Get me fired? Expose what happened at that meeting?” Ms. Relder’s eyes widened as far as they could with all the surgical modifications on her face. “Don’t mess with me. You don’t know what you are doing, little girl.” Her voice was low and raspy. Rage coursed through Sophia’s veins. It took everything she had to not retort at her condescending speech. “Goodbye, Ms. Relder,” she said stiffly, instead. Sophia pushed past her to open the door to her office. Ms. Relder stomped out. Sophia watched her go, one shaking hand on the doorway. Marsha sat at her desk outside Sophia’s door, her and a handful of other s watching were wide-eyed, fingers poised over keyboards, phones ringing unanswered. “What a bitch!” Marsha said. Sophia looked at the mild-mannered woman in surprise. They shared a smile. “Agreed,” Sophia said. She returned to her office, shut down her email, opened up the server, and began digging through the contract files again. By the end of the day, she had a long, handwritten list of corporations. She found documents to corporations with the state on another server for some of

them, but it looked like they weren’t ever filed with the state, but were used to get federal tax ID numbers as if they were actually legit corporations. She was pretty sure that wasn’t legal. She shoved the handwritten notes and the print-ups of the unfiled state documents in her briefcase. No way in hell she was leaving them in the office with Ana sniffing around. She left at six o’clock. She kept her mind and hands busy all day, just barely giving herself enough time to drive home and get ready. It was an intentional act to avoid thinking about what she was doing. Dating a criminal. Liking him. Sleeping with him. Wanting him for more than that. She poked the down button at the elevator bank. No. She wouldn’t think about that right now. All she’d think about was his smile, the way his body lit her up end to end, the way his tough exterior broke through hers. Yes. She’d traveled down the elevator, sinking down to the first floor. Her stomach dropped, too. Her briefcase pulled on her shoulder, a physical reminder of the lies her company was swimming in, and the lies she was telling herself to think that it was okay to get involved with Dmitri. Because it was not okay. It’s so… Ding. The elevator opened to the parking garage. Quick strides brought her to her car. She threw her purse in first, then her briefcase. She was halfway in the car before she saw the strange man standing near the elevator bank. He was staring at her. She stood up again, left her car door open, and watched him back. He was there, with dark hair, wearing a suit. He turned away and walked quickly into the stairwell behind the elevator bank. What the… Another reminder of the mess she was in. She’d never seen him before. It’s more

than coincidence that she’d seen strange men lurking around since…Dmitri. His name scrolled across her brain like a neon-bright, flashing, billboard: Beautiful and exotic, but very dangerous. And she couldn’t wait to see him. She returned to her car, shut the door, and locked it. She pulled out of the garage and waited in the long line of cars to get on the highway. In the silence of the car, feelings of fear, regret, and loss pushed through her denials. She swallowed them back down. She deserved to be happy. She could go out on a date with whomever she liked. It was just dinner. She pulled into her driveway at 6:45, which gave her only fifteen minutes until his arrival. She rushed up the stairs and into her front door. The framed picture of her husband and stepson was already face-down, so she left it that way. She rinsed off in the shower, deciding to let her worries over the fake corporations she discovered that day to run down the shower drain with the water. She stepped out and smoothed heavy perfumed lotion over every inch of her body. Hopefully, he’d be close enough to her skin to notice. Just dinner, though. Right? She smiled to herself as she flipped through the dresses in her closet. Something sexy, but not cheap. Classy. Something that hinted at her curves without shoving them into public view. Something that will remind Dmitri what lies underneath, to let him know it was all for him. But it was more than amazing sex, even though it couldn’t be. What that is, she wasn’t willing to even go there yet. She was almost at the back of her closet when her fingers landed on a little black dress, and it was perfect. Simple A-line with an asymmetrical hem and a unique, deep, square neckline. She paired it with black lace underwear and a push-up bra. She tied it all together with strappy stilettos, free-flowing hair, and light make-up.

She grabbed her beaded bag. She didn’t pause to look in the mirror, because she already knew what she’d see: too bright cheeks and wild eyes. She was not ready to face herself right now.

Chapter 9

Her doorbell rang. Sophia flicked off her living room light. She paused by the front door to pick up the keys she’d left on the little table. Her fingers grazed across the picture, so she flipped it back up: her dead husband and stepson, with their matching sparkly brown eyes and dimples. Damn. Her heart was heavy in her chest again. The pain made her bend over. She pressed her hand against the wall and took deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. Just breathe. The memories flooded back, unbidden and unwanted. They’d been on their way back from an art festival downtown. She didn’t much from the accident, just the screeching brakes, the world spinning around her, and the crashing of glass. Then it was silent. So silent she could hear the dangling shards of glass as they’d fallen off the windshield and the hiss of the airbag as it slowly deflated in front of her. Her lungs retched up powder and dust. Then she’d realized she was the only one coughing. She’d screamed when she saw Josh slumped over on the enger side, his head and neck at unnatural angle, blood leaking out of his ears. She’d frantically twisted in her seat to try to see Logan in the backseat. She’d screamed and fought to get out of her twisted seatbelt and damaged door when saw the back of the car had been torn off and Logan was nowhere to be seen. Her screams filled the air as she screamed his name, but there had been no answer. Ding dong. Her dell boor rang again, followed by four steady knocks. “Sophia?” he said through the door. She lifted her shaking hand off the wall. Wetness dropped from her face and

rolled down her chest. Damn, damn, damn. She forced herself to come back to the present. The darkness of the flashback refused to surrender her to the light. She cleared her now swollen throat. “Just a second!” she called in a sing song voice, but it came out strangled. She ran in her stilettos to the powder room just off the kitchen. Her mirror confirmed she’d smeared some mascara with her tears. Water proof, my ass. She ripped of a couple squares of toilet paper and dabbed at the black marks under eyes. She was still a little puffy, but it would have to do. She ran back to the front door and pulled it open. Dmitri filled up the frame and then some. He’d package his well-muscled body in a black suit with a black shirt and tie. Dark glasses shaded his eyes, even though the summer sun was giving off her last blast of orange and red. “Come in,” she breathed. He did, ducking slightly to fit under the door frame. She stepped back to give him some room. “Hi,” he whispered. “Hi,” she said. “Let me just use the restroom, then I’ll be ready.” She stepped back and then pivoted on her heels to turn away. “Wait,” he said in Russian. He put his fingers on her arm. She paused. “Turn around, please,” he said. She did. He took off his glasses and put his finger under her chin, gently raising her face and forcing her eyes up to his. “You’ve been crying.” “I’m fine.” She tilted her head back. He lowered his hand. “I know. That was not my inquiry.” He folded his glasses

and then hung them on the front of his shirt. “Sophia, I…” He rubbed his cheek. “I understand if you do not wish to continue spending time in my company. If I have made you upset with my actions, then I extend my deepest apologies.” He unfolded his glasses and put them back on. “Goodbye.” She grabbed his hand. “Where the hell are you going?” “What?” he said. He pushed his glasses on top of his head. She smiled, and it was a real one she felt all the way to her insides. “I said, ‘where the hell are you going?’ I’m hungry and you promised me dinner.” One side of his mouth tugged into the beginnings of a grin. “You want me to stay? I assumed you—” She grabbed his other hand and then pulled him closer to her. He stepped willingly until they were standing chest to chest. “Then I suggest you not make assumptions about me, Dmitri.” “I will not make that mistake again.” He had a full, bright smile on his face. He traced his finger softly down her check. “Let’s go before I rip off your dress and make love to you.” She pushed him back, smiling as she stepped away. “If I were to allow you— you’re making assumptions again. What’s the rush?” She tossed over her shoulder as she made her way back to the bathroom. Lightness filled her heart, almost crowding out the sorrow that had just overwhelmed her. “I do not want to miss our flight.” She stuck her head out of the open bathroom door. “Sorry, did you just say ‘flight’?” “I did.” He paced over to the shelf in her living room and began nonchalantly running his fingers over the books she had stored there. “I thought we were going to dinner?” She stepped out of the bathroom, head cocked to the side. He flipped through her tall bookcase, his large hands making all of her books look like miniatures.

“We are, in New Orleans, in the French Quarter.” Her hands floated up to her face. “Really?” He turned to her, a big wide smile on his face. It made him look so…normal. “Yes, if you hurry.” She clapped her hands together and then pushed the bathroom door shut. She pulled out her compact and made quick work of dabbing powder underneath her eyes. She came back out. He’d moved back to her front entryway and was kneading her forgotten, dropped keys, eyes glued to the picture of Josh and Logan. He looked at her, then back at the picture. He didn’t comment, but held out her keys. “You dropped these,” he said. “Thanks.” She shoved them in her clutch. “I’m ready, now.” “Are you?” His green eyes bored into her. “Let’s go.” She dropped his gaze. He looked at the picture one more time and then pulled the door open. They both stepped out into the still-hot Houston evening air. He leaned against the door frame while she locked her door. “You look beautiful,” he said. “As do you,” she answered. That made him smile. She turned around to see a black limo waiting for them, engine running. A man in black slacks jumped out the driver’s seat, ran to their side of the car, and opened the door. “Please.” Dmitri guided her in first. She crawled in with her knees pressed together. It was hard to get in and out of a limo in a ladylike fashion, but she did her best. He got in right behind her,

ducking low to avoid hitting his head on the door frame. They settled into the black seats, and she rested her hand on the buttery soft leather. He scooted very close to her, leaving the rest of the space noticeably empty. The chauffer shut the door. Soon thereafter, the car rolled into motion. “This is lovely. Yours?” she said. He tipped his head up to look at the empty space around them. “I’m glad you like it.” She bit her lower lip. He’d avoided answering her questions, as usual. She decided not to press it. “Well, thank you for this lovely ride, but it’s very unnecessary.” He slung his arm around her, pushing his face into her neck. “It’s very, very necessary that you are pleased with me.” His hot breath on her neck pushed her body into full on heat-wave that started at the tips of her toes all the way up to the crown of her head. She snuggled into him, smelling his delicious cologne and the clean, soapy scent of his skin. He tightened his grip around her and rested his chin on her head. He was comforting her, and she let him. Peace settled over her chest. She battled it back at first as the bells rung in her head, reminding her that he was bad, a criminal, and she couldn’t do this, but after a few minutes, they quieted and left her alone to enjoy a moment of joy. She finally pulled away, leaving her arm entwined with his. He patted her leg and then opened the mini bar towards the middle of the seat they were on. “Would you like something to drink?” “I’m fine,” she said. “I’ll have something with dinner.” He said nothing, but closed the mini bar. She fiddled with the hem of her dress, pulling it down to her knees. The limo had shrunk around them. They were alone, and they weren’t having sex. They would have to talk. She glanced up at him, but he was watching her.

“Do I make you nervous?” His eyes flicked down to her bare legs and rested on her hands twisting her hem. “No.” She unfolded her hands and rested them on her lap. “Yes,” she said. She glanced up at him, pushing a nervous smile on her face. “Maybe a little.” She swallowed at her own ission. She was in a car, headed to an airport with an international gunrunner. The reality of the situation pushed in around the fuzzy bubble she’d created around herself. Not safe. Definitely not safe. His smile slipped a little. “I will not hurt you. Ever. Nor would I have, ever.” “I know that. I do.” She scooted closer to him, eager to reassure him. What the fuck am I doing? He reached out his hand, slowly entwining it with her fingers. Fireworks erupted between them, sending jolts down her body. “You are so beautiful, Sophia. And so smart.” She squeezed his strong, callused fingers. Those fingers that seemed to find all her favorite spots with the gentlest of touches. “Thank you.” “Please, come. I must kiss you.” She did, scooting until they were close. He held her face between his hands and kissed her. It was a deep, invasive kiss, their tongues wrestling. Her body involuntarily pushed into his, her want awakening between her legs. He was feeling it too, judging by the moan that escaped his throat. He pulled back, releasing her from his kiss. He left his hand on her face, gently stroking his thumb across her cheek. “Sophia, I—” “Sir?” The door opened, and the chauffer filled the frame. Two men loomed in the background. One was the one she now knew as Gram. She’d seen the other one the day she and her coworkers were held at gun point. Blood filled her cheeks, burning at the embarrassment of being caught in an intimate moment and shame at herself for spending time with a criminal.

She pushed back the memory. Dmitri had scooted away and dropped his hands from her face. “Yes,” he said, addressing the men peering into the limo. “We’re here,” Gram said, his voice imive. “Good, thank you.” Dmitri patted her hand. “Let’s go.” “All right.” He scooted along the seat, carefully unfolding his considerable height from the low seat of the limo. When he stood, he straightened his tie and smoothed his jacket. He rotated so he was facing the limo again and then offered his hand. She pressed her knees together as he pulled her out. The other man with Gram gave her a long, dark look. A sneer crossed his face as he watched her with cold blue eyes. His bald head gleamed in the light. Clean shaven, she guessed. He was too young to be naturally bald. She met his gaze and suppressed a shudder. It was clear he didn’t like her, and if he was here, then he must be a bad man. What does that make me? She compartmentalized her thoughts and focused on the present. It was twilight out, the sun reduced to a thin, orange line in the distant horizon. They were parked at a small private airport in front of a large, metallic hanger. A small, gleaming jet, maybe fifty feet long, was parked in front, stairs lowered. “This is yours?” Sophia asked as they walked towards it. “It belongs to the company.” “Oh,” she managed to reply. She gripped both rails as they climbed the stairs. He came up right behind her, placing his hands on the rails right behind hers. His breath was hot on her neck. “I won’t let you fall,” he said in Russian. She said nothing, but gripped the rails tighter as she climbed the metal steps. She

stepped through the door. The cabin was bigger than she thought it would be. Plush, expansive, white leather seats lined either side, eight seats in total. Two small granite-top tables on either side of the plane split the seats two and two. Gold rimmed double doors led to what she presumed were the facilities. “This is lovely.” She walked to the back of plane. “Where should I sit?” “Wherever you would like,” he said. She chose the very last row and sat. He settled in quickly next to her. Gram and the other man boarded and wordlessly took the seats in the front. She stiffened when the other man boarded the plan. Dmitri noticed, of course. “What is it?” “Who is that man?” she whispered. “It is better if you do not know our names,” Dmitri said. “Oh,” she said. She watched him. His green eyes were pinned to her. He didn’t offer an explanation or comfort. Just a stare. She watched him back. “Maybe this is a terrible idea,” he said in Russian, rubbing his forehead. “What? This?” Sophia said. He opened his mouth to answer when a strong British accent came over the intercom. “Prepare for take-off.” The engines roared to life, drowning out any further conversation. They seemed much louder than a commercial airline. The plane was drifting towards the runway, speeding up and then they were off in the air. Sophia watched the twinkling lights of Houston disappear underneath her. She glanced at Dmitri who was facing forward. He looked imive and was quiet.

What am I doing here? She wondered for the millionth time.

Chapter 10

The flight was short, maybe forty minutes. Dmitri caught her eye and smiled as the captain announced the landing. Whatever discomfort that seized him earlier was long gone. When the wheels touched down, he grabbed her hand and squeezed it comfortingly. She squeezed back, even though her mind was racing. She yearned to be there and nowhere else, but her brain was starting to catch up to her sex drive. Everything about spending time with Dmitri was wrong. Red flags were flying up everywhere in her head. How long could she ignore them? How far would she go? How far had she already gone? But the plane had already stopped and the strange man and Gram were waiting by the door of the plane. Dmitri helped her out of her seat and kept his hand on the small of her back as they carefully descended the stairs. Baldy was glaring at her again. She glared right back, and it didn’t escape her notice that his hands curled into fists when she did. A shiny red town car was waiting for them. The driver jumped out and opened the door. She slid in to the smooth leather seat. She could totally get used to the private car service thing. The car glided through the now dark city, past the winding interstate that looped over the above ground mausoleums, past the crowded dark streets, skirting just along the edge of downtown until they arrived in the French Quarter. The bright balcony flags and throngs of people in the streets told her she’d arrived in the Quarter. She hadn’t been in years. She pressed her face to the window, eagerly taking in the overwhelming array of sights. The driver stopped on Bourbon Street in front of a tiny, brightly lit space. She walked quietly around the beautiful lit fountain and the line of finely dressed people. The host nodded when they came in, but didn’t ask for their names. He silently led them out to the courtyard where a candlelit table was waiting. She sat and then waited for the coattail-dressed waiter to unfold the linen napkin and

drape it carefully over her lap. Dmitri unbuttoned his suit jacket before sitting down, sitting razor straight in his chair. She picked up the heavy menu in its leather case. The menu was in French, and hers was rusty at best. “Mon français est terrible. You’ll have to excuse me.” She smiled at Dmitri over the round table. His lips twitched. “Somehow, I am not surprised that you know French at all. What other languages do you speak beside English, Russian, and a little French?” “I’m fully bilingual in Spanish.” She returned her eyes to the menu, scanning over the items. “You?” “English, Russian, French, Ukrainian, Estonian, Farsi, Arabic, and Mandarin.” He snapped the menu shut. “And a little Spanish.” “Whoa. You win.” She didn’t doubt it. Intelligence blazed behind those smoldering eyes. It’s probably one of the reasons he was so successful. And dangerous, her rational mind added. The waiter appeared silently at their table, hands clasped behind his back. “May I?” Dmitri asked. Sophia stared at him, puzzled, until she understood he was requesting permission to order for her. “Please.” He did, in beautiful fluent French. She put her elbow on the table, resting her hand on her chin. Her core lit up listening to him speak. Damn it. He was at least three feet away, not even touching her, and she was ready to pounce on him, and… The waiter cleared his throat. She moved her hand out of the way so he could place a glass of champagne in a delicate flute in front of her. She took a sip. It was light and delicious, floating down her tongue. She glanced at the French label of the bottle it came from. “Delightful,” she said.

“I’m glad you like it.” His large hand looked comical wrapped around the small fluted glass. She leaned back in her chair and finally took in the scene around her. The courtyard was sparsely populated with a few candlelit tables around a lit fountain that was a twin of the one in front of the restaurant, a stark contrast to the crowded interior. Soft music piped through, combined with the occasional faint shout or laughter from Bourbon Street. Twinkling white lights draped around the courtyard, bathing it in soft white light. “Do you like it?” he said. She let her eyes move back to him, resplendent in his black suit, always watching her so carefully in his very perceptive way. “You already know I do,” she said. “You notice everything.” He smiled. His eyes drifted down to her cleavage, and back up to her face. “Do you like it?” She tapped the side of her glass with her fingernail. He licked his lips, but kept his eyes on her face. “You already know I love it.” His face froze when the word “love” slipped out. He recovered quickly, but she’d already seen in it. She said nothing, instead tipping her glass to hide her face. Her pulse filled her head. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything. It could never mean anything because this was all wrong. When she dared to look back at him, he was rubbing his jaw, his eyes looking off to the side. “How did you find this place?” she asked. “A dear friend.” He didn’t say anything more, but at least his gaze was back on her. The waiter was back, slipping a fragrant bowl of soup in front of her. She took a generous spoonful, letting the delicate explosions roll across her tongue. Lobster bisque. It was literally the most wonderful thing she’d ever tasted. “This is

phenomenal.” “It is wonderful,” he agreed. “And this is only the first course.” She smiled, enjoying the restaurant and the quiet, alone time with him. They finished their soup in silence. The waiter removed the bowl as soon as she set her spoon down. When they were alone again, his hand snaked across the table, palm open. She accepted it automatically, without thought, pushing down the red flags and alarms blaring in her head and sliding her slender fingers into his waiting grasp. “You are so beautiful, Sophia. Even now I have a hard time not coming around the table and putting my hands all over you.” “Thank you,” she said. “And for your restraint as well. I’m hungry.” That earned her a small smile. He squeezed her hand, his eyes digging into hers with a sudden intensity. “I care for you,” he whispered. His words barely carried over the small space that separated them. She blinked rapidly, taken aback by his sudden ission. She didn’t speak, just searched his face. “Do you care for me?” He leaned forward, waiting for her response. “Why are saying this to me now?” she said. “On the plane, you said we shouldn’t do this.” “I did.” He squeezed her hand one more time, then let go. “There are…risks for a woman like you, and a man like me.” “A woman like me?” she echoed. He didn’t answer, because the waiter was back with their plates. She stared at the fish in front of her, buried in some sort of Cajun sauce that smelled like perfection. The waiter left, and she waited for his response, food untouched. “You were saying?” she prompted.

“Innocent. Naïve,” he said. “I’m not naïve,” she snapped. “Please understand my intention.” He balled his hand into a fist, resting it on the table. “I do not mean it in an insulting way. I know you are educated. I know you are cultured. I know you are well traveled. I only meant that you have not been exposed to the dark trade.” She pushed her lips together and searched for a response, but one wouldn’t come. “I understand what you are saying,” she finally answered. She picked up her fork and forced herself to eat a bite of her food. “Sort of. As much as I can.” He did the same, digging into his food. The food was so good, it almost distracted her from the rather serious conversation at hand. “Jesus Christ. This is insanely good,” she said. He laughed. She wasn’t sure she’d heard him laugh like that before. “You always surprise me.” He took another bite of his food, chewed, and swallowed before answering. “And you always interest me.” She smiled. “I’m glad I interest you.” She took a long drink of her champagne, draining the glass. “But I have some questions.” His smiled slipped. “I am limited in what I can discuss with you, Sophia.” “Why?” He was silent when the waiter appeared and refilled both of their champagne glasses. When the waiter slipped away, he continued, “It is for your own safety.” His eyes darted around. “This is not the ideal setting for this type of discussion.” She gripped her glass tighter, nerves sending her heart rate higher and higher. “Am I in danger? Am I in danger right now...with you?” He slammed his glass down, making some of the bubbly champagne splash over the rim. “Never with me, Sophia. I would never hurt you.” “Then?” she asked in a weak voice. “Because of you?”

“I won’t let anything happen to you. I can protect you.” Heat rushed through her chest. Not happy heat, but nervous heat. It was the first time he openly spoke of danger. It had been there the whole time, but now that he was itting it, she was frightened. She shifted in her seat. She didn’t know where to look anymore. He swiped his hand across his jaw. She recognized it now as a nervous gesture. He’d caught on to her discomfort. “You are afraid of me, finally. I am very sorry,” he said. “Are you having me followed? Are you watching me?” She’d thought of the strange man she’d seen in the parking garage, and the words had flown out before she thought to stop them. “No,” he said, his voice flat. “Of course not. Why would you ask such a thing?” She looked up, meeting his eyes. His face went from imive to concerned. “Oh God, Sophia. Why did you ask such a thing?” She clutched her hand into a fist. The worry in his face only made her panic ratchet up. “I’ve seen a strange man. In a suit.” He leaned forward. “Where? How many times?” “Um...” She released her sweaty hand from a fist, resting it on the table. “Two, maybe three times. In the parking garage at work.” “What was he doing? What did he look like? Was it the same person each time? I need more details.” She lifted her palm from the table. “It wasn’t you? Or one of your…people?” “No. I wouldn’t do something like that to you. But I wish it was. I don’t know what this is. And, lyubov moya, it is nothing good. I can tell you that.” Her heart leapt into her throat when he called her ‘my love’, then sputtered to a stop when she realized the danger. “Who could it be?”

He folded his napkin. “This was wrong, Sophia. This was so wrong for you. I’ve been selfish. I should have been better for you.” “What?” she hissed. “What are you saying?” They were interrupted by a massively fat man with thick red hair in a not-sosubtle powder blue suit. “Dmitri!” he said in a thick French accent. “We are so glad to see you here this evening.” He spread his arms and bowed low. Dmitri straightened his spine. “Pierre, it is a pleasure to be here.” He relaxed his large frame, but Sophia could still see the tension in his arms and hands. Pierre turned to her, turning his full ruddy-faced charm on her. “And who is the beautiful woman?” He held out his hand. Dmitri started to answer, but Sophia cut him off. “My name is Sophia.” Dmitri bit his lower lip, and she wondered if maybe she shouldn’t have given her real name to Pierre. Pierre was still holding his hand out to her. She wasn’t sure what he wanted, so she held out her hand in return. Pierre gently grasped it and planted a quick, cool kiss on the top of her hand. “It is so nice to see him here with a young lady. He’s always alone, this one, in the many moons I’ve known him.” “Pierre,” Dmitri said in a warning tone. “All right, all right,” Pierre waved his hands around his head, “I’ll stop. Please, at least tell me the food was delicious.” “Wonderful,” Dmitri said. “Amazing,” Sophia added. Pierre clapped Dmitri on the back. “It was good seeing you, old friend.” He directed his next statement to Sophia. “I hope I see you around, Sophia.” Sophia watched him leave, fluttering from table to table to flatter the guests.

“We need to go,” Dmitri said. “Right now?” Sophia asked. “Now.” He stood, his chair bouncing back. The waiter appeared seconds later. Dmitri spoke in low tones to him, handing him a large wad of cash. He walked toward the entrance, pausing after a few feet, waiting for her. She threw her napkin down and followed him. “What in the blazes did I do? Is Pierre dangerous?” Dmitri spoke under his breath as they wove through the crowded restaurant interior. “Pierre is one of the few who really knows me, who I trust. You wouldn’t be meeting him unless I trusted him.” “Then what did I do?” She grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop in front of the restaurant. The red car was waiting and streams of tourists wove around them, laughing in a free joy she didn’t get to feel. He stared at her, the bright lights of the Quarter reflecting in his eyes. “It is I that has been wrong. You’ve just been naïve. That is your only crime.” He pulled his arm away gently and stepped into the waiting car. “Get in,” he growled through the open door. “Whatever,” she muttered under her breath, but she slid in next to him. She didn’t have a choice. He didn’t touch her or kiss her or even look at her. He just stared at the floorboard while the chauffer shut the door and the engine roared to life. She stared at her lap, too. Her mind raced through the emotions she was feeling: hurt at his rejection, stupidity for the danger she was in, and fear. Plain, cold, fear. His hand crept on the seat towards her, but he didn’t touch her. “Let’s get you back home safe and then I will find out who has been following you.” “Should I be scared? Because I am. And angry,” she said.

He didn’t comfort her, but his hand rested on her leg. She left it there because she wanted his touch, and it was already too late for restraint. “I know,” he finally said. They drove back to the airport, boarded the plane, which already contained Gram and Baldy, and soon she was flying back to Houston.

Chapter 11

Crap, crap, crap. She’d been trying to sort through all of her emotions through the flight. Not a single word had been spoken, but he’d left his hand on her leg the entire time. Gram had his phone to his ear and was pacing the front of the plane as the captain announced they were landing. He sat down as the plane touched down, but as soon as it had slowed he was at the back of the plane. His normally ive face was taut. “Sir, we have trouble.” Dmitri’s hand was off her leg. His body tensed and his eyes narrowed. He was a different man. A different man then the one in her bed. He was scary, hardened. “What is it?” Dmitri barked. Gram answered in rapid Russian, probably not realizing that Sophia could understand every word. “Federal agents are waiting at our hanger. They have a search warrant.” “Fuck!” Dmitri shouted. “How did this happen?” Sophia unbuckled her belt. “What? What is this about?” Her nerves were already frayed to the edge, and this pushed her completely over. Her pulse echoed in her head. Federal agents. She was in some deep, deep shit. He turned to face her, gently grabbing her shoulders. “Follow my lead. I will help you, but you have to trust me.” She wrenched her shoulder out of his grasp. “Trust you? I don’t know what the hell is going on!” “That is right. You do not, and now you will see why.” She turned away and booted up her cell phone as the plane rolled to a stop. Would they take it away? Could she be in legal trouble? She had her career, her condo, everything to lose. She scrolled through her s. Did she know any attorneys? Would her parents know any? They were on a cruise in the Mediterranean, as far physically distant from her now as they were always emotionally. She was alone. She’d have to deal with this by herself.

Shit. She’d never even been pulled over before for a speeding ticket. Never been in trouble. She was innocent and naïve, just like he’d said. She shoved the phone back in her clutch. She smoothed her dress, ran her fingers through her hair, and took deep cleansing breaths. She waited for the calm to come, just like her therapist had taught her those many months ago. Panic won’t help. She closed her eyes, trying to find her center. When she found it, she opened her eyes. Dmitri was watching her, awe written on his face as he took in her new, cool demeanor. That’s right. I’m not helpless. She was calm when the plane door opened. Composed as a rush of blue-jacketed federal agents pulled Gram and Baldy roughly out of the plane amid a wave of yells and shouted commands. Silent while one of the blue-jacketed men rushed up to her as the other agents tore through the seats and drawers, searching and searching. “Please come with me,” said the imposing man with a shaved head and navy blue wind breaker. He looked to be about Dmitri’s age. She knew instinctively he was in charge and that he was very, very smart by the way his eyes darted around, taking in everything around him. She’d been around enough people with a high level of intelligence to recognize it right away. “May I see your identification?” she asked in her polite, HR tone. “Agent Crippin, Federal t Task Force.” He shoved a badge in her face. “And who are you?” “She is starting her secondment with EBCasp National on Monday,” Dmitri answered. Agent Crippin cocked his head to the side, a sneer on his face. “Girlfriend, Mr. Davydov? Can’t she talk?” “Coworker, and yes, she certainly can,” Dmitri said. “Where is your warrant?”

Agent Crippin pulled it out of the inside pocket of his jacket. As he pulled his coat open, a black, thick vest flashed into view. Bulletproof, Sophia realized. What did they think they were going to find here? Dmitri calmly unfolded the warrant, and his eyes scanned the paper. He laughed as he tucked it into his pocket. “What clown signed this? You will find nothing like that with me.” “We’ll see.” Agent Crippin sneered. “Please come with me.” They followed him. “What’s happening?” Sophia hissed. “A federal search warrant is being executed on my plane,” Dmitri said. “I gathered that.” “Keep quiet,” he whispered in Russian. “I am trying to protect you. They must not know that you are valuable to me.” She pushed the profoundness of that statement to the side. She’d think about it later. He kept a polite distance as they made their way down the stairs and into the dark, hot night Houston had laid out for them. They were back in front of the same hanger, but it was crowded with unmarked, large black vans and SUVs. Heavily armed men in uniforms swarmed about, some with FBI on the back of their vests, others with ATF. She even saw a few ICE agents. What in the hell? “Come with me,” Agent Crippin said. “Sure,” Sophia muttered. He walked into the hanger over to a low black car with a stack of papers on the trunk. He leaned against the car, flipping through the papers. After a few moments, he put them down. “Okay, I have no idea who you are. Do you have an ID, young lady?”

“It’s Ms. Latrude,” Sophia said. “Sophia Latrude.” She pulled open her clutch and pulled out her driver’s license. “Am I in some sort of trouble?” She managed to keep the tremble out of her voice. Agent Crippin met her eyes, his deep brown eyes boring into hers. “I don’t know, Ms. Latrude, are you?” Sophia pushed her lips together. Agent Crippin called another man over and handed her ID to him. “Make sure she is who she says she is.” The man nodded, then left. “What are you doing on this plane? You’re not on the manifest.” “My mistake,” Dmitri said. “I took her to dinner to discuss business. She is starting a secondment with—” “So you said earlier. Can you not speak?” “I can. Yes, I’m here for dinner, and no, I don’t have any control over the plane manifest. Sorry,” Sophia said. It was unwise to allow the bite in her tone, but she slipped it in anyway. “A business dinner?” Agent Crippin asked. “Yes,” Sophia answered. And there it is. She’d just lied to a federal agent. It wasn’t a business dinner, not by a long shot. She kept her face a composed neutral mask as her insides churned, threatening to betray her. “And what did you discuss?” Agent Crippin asked. “Confidential matters. Do I need an attorney? Am I under arrest? If not, I’d like to go.” Mr. Crippin opened his mouth to answer when a series of excited yells emanated from the plane. A short woman wearing a black vest approached with a stack of papers. “Sir, this might be interesting.”

Agent Crippin shot a triumphant hard look at Dmitri before shuffling through the papers. Anger flashed through Sophia at his haughty look, which was followed by an overwhelming sense of shame. These were federal agents, men and women who sacrificed so much to protect her country. How dare she feel anger? They were doing their jobs. She was the one in the wrong. They were good, honest people. Dmitri crossed his arms over his chest. He never once even glanced at Sophia. She felt his distance and knew he was pulling away in every sense. “EUC’s for light weapons,” Agent Crippin said. “Quite the collection.” “Yes, they are. And they are all legal,” Dmitri said. “Uh huh, sure,” Agent Crippin said. He raised his voice. “We’ve got enough here. Take him into custody.” Sophia covered her mouth with her hand, not bothering to hide her shock as Dmitri was handcuffed. “Do not worry,” he said in Russian to her as they pinned his big arms behind his back. “They have a saying in my country: Little thieves are hanged, big ones escape.” “English!” Agent Crippin shouted. “What did he say? Do we have a translator?” he shouted to the agents around them. Several of them shook their heads. He didn’t even think to ask Sophia if she understood. She was used to being underestimated. How she must look to him—a curvy blond in a tight dress with a dangerous man at night. He probably thought she was some cheap slut. He didn’t know she’d finished high school at sixteen, had an undergraduate degree at nineteen, and a master’s at twenty-one. He didn’t know she was trilingual. He didn’t know she was head of HR for one of the largest oil companies in the world. But with all that, she was a fool. Why else would she be at a private airport being questioned by federal agents while her date was handcuffed?

She watched them take Dmitri, pushing him down to fit into the back seat of the car. She was left alone with the agent. She focused her eyes on Agent Crippin. He’d been conversing with the guy who had her ID. Agent Crippin handed her driver’s license back to her. “This checked out, and so did you.” “Thank you.” She took the ID and tucked it back into her clutch. His face softened. “Do you have someone you can call to come get you? You’re free to go.” She nodded as she pulled out her phone. He handed her his card. “I may have questions for you later, and you’ll need to answer them. This is an ongoing federal investigation.” “I understand, and I will cooperate.” She took the card. “But I really don’t know how I could possibly help.” He stared at her, tilting his head to the side. “I believe you,” he finally said. He stepped closer, glancing at the tinted-windows of the car that contained Dmitri. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Look, you seem like a nice girl, squeaky clean background and all that. My guy just looked you up on the internet. He says you’re super well educated. Stay the fuck away from this guy. Quit your job if you need to. I’m serious.” She shifted her weight and stared at her shoes. She was ashamed. Ashamed that someone would have to tell her that. “This is your chance. Walk away, never look back, and stay away. You’ll live a safe and happy life if you do. Dmitri is very dangerous.” She nodded. “I didn’t realize...I didn’t know…” She stopped her excuses, because they were all lies. He put the palm of his hand on the side of his head, running it down his face. His voice came out so low, she had to strain to hear him over the bustle of activity around them. “He’s so dangerous that my family is being guarded while I work this case, okay? My children aren’t safe because I got assigned to this task force.

You feel me? Run.” She snapped up to meet his face, finding nothing but genuine concern. She bit her lip, fighting back her tears. He walked away, leaving her alone to face herself. Holy shit. She’d been so stupid. So blind. So dumb. And she was afraid. Really fucking scared, as she should be. He’d already held a gun on her that very first day she met him. Within a few short days, she’d given him her body. She came onto him. She arranged the meeting. She pursued him, and she fucked him. She put her hand to her mouth. Oh, God. I need help. Something is wrong with me. She pulled out her phone, desperately searching for a lifeline. Andrea.

Chapter 12

Andrea agreed to come, of course. Sophia meandered around the car where they were holding Dmitri. She couldn’t see anything through the blacked out window, but she knew he was there. She wondered if he was watching her, even now. But she couldn’t think like that anymore. Starting now. She walked away without another glance. I am strong. I’ve been through worse. I’ve had the worst. I’ve lost my family. She had her gaze down at her feet as she made her way away from the hangar, so she didn’t see Gram and Baldy leaning against a large SUV, in handcuffs. “Suka,” Baldy said as she walked by. “I told him you’d be nothing but trouble.” He spat, missing her by inches. She paused, mid-step. Suka meant bitch, and he knew that she knew that. Anger overwhelmed her and pushed back her damn of fear. She turned to him and then stepped closer until she was inches away from his face. “Go fuck yourself, asshole. I hope you enjoy prison. I’m sure you’ll be very, very popular.” He lunged towards her. She screamed and jumped back, nearly losing her balance on her heels. She remained upright, but he fell hard, face first into the gravel. She smiled as a nearby agent pounced on top of him, restraining him as he struggled violently. “You fucking cunt! I’ll fucking kill you myself!” he screamed. “Oh, shut up,” the agent said. He pulled Baldy roughly to his feet and slammed him against the SUV. Her blood ran cold. She stumbled backwards, moving away from him. She mentally reached for Dmitri, almost instinctively wanting him to protect her. But Dmitri wasn’t shelter from the storm, he was the storm. She ran away. Away from the swarm of agents. Away from the cluster of cars. Away from a still screaming Baldy. Away from Dmitri. She stopped at the edge of the driveway, far away from the hanger. She started walking down the road, waiting for Andrea.

She almost cried with relief when she saw Andrea’s silver car speeding toward her. Andrea slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the car, leaving her door open and the engine running. Her car’s insistent dinging filled the air. “Sophia? What happened?” She got closer. Sophia tried to wipe the tears off her face, but it was too late. Andrea had already seen it all. Andrea hugged her, then stepped back, leaving their hands entwined. Her long black hair was held back with a scarf, her long lashes dark against her pale cheeks. She’d traded her daytime trendy business attire for yoga pants and a form-fitting tank top. “What the hell is all this?” She gestured towards the SUVs and agents milling about. “Are those FBI agents?” She squinted at the letters on the back of the windbreaker of the nearest agent. “Some of them are, I think. It’s a long story. Can you take me home?” Sophia said. “Of course!” Andrea squeezed her hand and then walked back to the car. They both got in. Andrea carefully backed away from the mess of cars and then left the airport. “You’re in trouble, aren’t you?” Her gaze was fixed out the windshield. “I knew something was up. You’ve been a little…distant lately.” Sophia took a deep breath, pushing the tears back. “You’re going to be mad at me.” Andrea pushed her lips together. “Probably, but I’m still going to love you.” She adjusted the AC in the car, glancing at Sophia while she did. Sophia was silent; her shame was strong. She wanted to lie to Andrea, and maybe she should, to protect her. But Andrea was her best friend; she was like a sister to her. She’d always been there for her. She’d held her on the long night after Josh and Landon died. She’d fed her cat when Sophia was too depressed to get out of bed and then found him a loving home when she realized Sophia wouldn’t be able to care for him

anymore. She’d driven her to the therapist’s office. She’d taken care of Sophia until she could function again. Andrea spoke again. “What’s happening here, Soph? Explain why you’ve called me at 11:30 at night from this swanky executive airport that’s swarming with law enforcement officers.” She turned her head to look at Sophia. “And you’re wearing a fuck-me dress. Who was it for?” “I had dinner, in New Orleans.” Andrea nodded. “Okay. That’s a good start. With whom?” “Dmitri.” “And who is Dmitri?” Andrea flipped on her turn signal. She rotated in her seat to check her blind spot and then froze. Sophia watched her face grow pale. She could almost hear the wheels turning in her bright little head. Andrea pulled over. She stared at her steering wheel for several seconds before she spoke. “Oh my fucking God,” she whispered. “Dmitri Davydov?” Sophia jerked her head to the side. “How did you know his full name?” “Oh, God. I can’t believe this.” Andrea exhaled loudly, her breath shaky. The level of her emotion was a surprise to Sophia. “Because I researched EBCasp National and him when you told me about your secondment. Because I was worried. Because I’d heard things.” She folded her hands over her steering wheel. “Shit, Sophia. Why were you going out to dinner with him? Were you alone with him? Did he threaten you or something?” Sophia stared at her lap. “No. He wouldn’t hurt me.” “What!?” Andrea shouted. “What do you mean he wouldn’t hurt you? That makes it sound like you know him pretty well.” She twisted in her seat. “How well do you know him? Was this not the first time you’ve seen him?” Sophia rested her elbow on the door, massaging her forehead. She searched for the right words to explain what she’d done, but she couldn’t find them. “Soph?” Andrea said, her voice coming out as a squeak. “Please tell me that

you’re not romantically involved with him. Please.” Sophia dropped her hand from her face. “I am. I was,” she whispered. Andrea’s mouth dropped open, and she pressed her hand to her chest. “Oh, my God. This keeps getting worse and worse.” She stared for several seconds and then turned her attention to the front of the car. She mechanically turned off the emergency blinkers, checked traffic and then merged onto the road. “Say something, Andrea,” Sophia pleaded. “Where are we going?” “I’m taking you home and then you’re going to tell me everything. And we’ll figure it out, Soph. We’ll figure it out.” “You don’t hate me?” Sophia said. Andrea turned into Sophia’s condominium complex. “Of course I don’t hate you. I think you suffered an enormous trauma, and you’re not thinking straight.” She pulled into a spot in front of Sophia’s building. “I think you need help,” she said, her voice gentle. “You’re right,” Sophia whispered. Andrea cocked one eyebrow at her easy ission, but said nothing else as they climbed the stairs to Sophia’s door. Sophia pushed the key in the lock and opened the door to the darkened condo. She flipped on the interior light, eyes resting on the picture of Landon and Josh. Ouch. She’d let him down. She’d let them down. Andrea pushed her to get her moving again. “Sit. I’ll get some wine.” Sophia obeyed, kicking off her heels and sinking into her puffy, comfortable couch. Andrea noisily dug through the cabinets until she found Sophia’s wine stash. “Cab sav okay?” she called from the kitchen. “Sure,” she said. She didn’t care what she drank though. Her mind was still reeling. The image of Dmitri being handcuffed was burned into her head. The reality of the swarm of federal agents still hadn’t hit her. Andrea pushed the full glass of wine into Sophia’s hand and then sat in the

armchair across from her. “Spill it. How the hell did you meet him? When did this start?” Sophia took a long sip of her wine before she answered. “I met him at a meeting at EBCasp National with Red Bluff. I got pulled into it because I speak Russian. Dmitri was…there.” She paused. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Andrea he’d pointed a gun at her in the meeting. “I...um...slept with him a few days later like the dumb girl that I am. That’s how it all started.” Andrea tucked a strand of hair back into her loose pony-tail. “You slept with him that fast?” She shook her head. “That doesn’t sound like you, Soph. You’ve refused to date since Josh died and then all of the sudden you’re intimate with a guy? This guy of all guys?” “I know. I don’t know what came over me.” Andrea sighed. “Okay. So you’ve been sleeping with him. Please tell me you haven’t screwed here?” Sophia pushed her lips together. Andrea put her wine glass down on the coffee table. “Oh, damn. He knows where you live? His people know where you live?” Sophia nodded, tears threatening to spill. “I’m so embarrassed.” Andrea paced the living room. “You shouldn’t be. He’s a bad man. He probably saw your vulnerability and went after it.” Sophia kneaded her hands on her lap. She felt the need to defend him, but pushed it back. “I pursued him initially.” Andrea paused her pacing. “What?” She sat down on the couch, taking Sophia’s hand in hers. “You did?” “Yes,” Sophia said. The tears were spilling again. A sad display of self-pity that she shouldn’t be making. She’d made the mistakes, and it was time to own up to them.

“Did you…” Andrea released her hands. “Oh, never mind.” “What?” Sophia said. “Did you realize how bad he was? Did you know when you slept with him?” Sophia stood and paced over to the sliding glass doors of her balcony. The green and dark bayou spread out under the crescent moon that painted a pretty picture in the sky. She looked at those things because she didn’t want to think about what Andrea was really asking her. She finally turned to her friend. “If you’re asking if I’m a bad person, the answer is yes. I knew what he was when I slept with him. I knew and I kept seeing him. And I like him. Liked him.” Andrea didn’t answer, but picked up her wineglass and swished it absently in her hand. She stared into the wine. Sophia had known her long enough to know she was carefully organizing her thoughts. She finally raised her head to gaze at Sophia. “Was it a sex thing only?” “It started out that way, but…” Sophia stopped because she couldn’t answer the question. She didn’t want to confront her feelings for Dmitri, whatever they were. It didn’t matter anymore, because it was done. She crossed her arms over her chest. Andrea was by her side in an instant. She wrapped her in a hug. “It’s okay, Soph. I’m not judging you. I’m trying to figure out what’s going on in your head.” “Me too,” Sophia said. Andrea dropped her arms, but didn’t move away. “Are you still seeing your therapist?” Sophia shook her head no. “Why not?” Andrea said. “When did you stop?” “A long time ago. Maybe five months.” Sophia returned to the couch, picking up her wine. Andrea followed her.

“Why?” “I got tired of it all. I just sat there and relived Josh and Landon’s death. We talked about it over and over. It was in my head all the time.” She put her feet up. “I couldn’t do it anymore.” “Maybe you should go back,” Andrea said. She took one of Sophia’s decorative pillows and hugged it to her chest. “I think you need help. I do. This is all very unlike you.” “What if this is like me, now?” Sophia said. “When they died, it broke me. What if I’m ruined forever? What if I can never function like a normal human again?” She pulled her hands through her hair, trying to come up with the right words. “Parts of me just shriveled up and died with them. I don’t know if my good parts can come back. I don’t know if they should. I do know that for whatever reason, Dmitri felt good. I know it’s wrong, and I know it’s bad, but it felt…good.” Andrea dropped her pillow and reached for her. “You’re not broken.” She squeezed her shoulders. “Maybe it felt good because Dmitri, as dangerous as he is, is safe to care for.” “What do you mean?” Sophia asked. “I mean, he’s not really available. He’s like the most unavailable guy in the world because he’s a fucking gunrunning criminal. So it’s safe for you to care for him, because it won’t go anywhere—ever—it can’t.” Sophia stared at the glass-topped coffee table while she considered Andrea’s words. “That’s actually really insightful,” she said. “Really.” “I know,” she cracked a small smile, “but I’m not a shrink. Which is why you should see one.” “I can’t,” Sophia said. “I can’t talk to a shrink. I don’t know what I can say to the shrink without getting myself in trouble. I fucked a gunrunner. I lied to a federal agent. What if my shrink got subpoenaed? What if he thought he had intel that he had to on to the FBI or something, or he was compelled to do it if he thought people’s lives were in danger?” “I hadn’t thought of that,” Andrea said. “You could edit some parts out. Maybe

just say he’s a bad man.” “No,” Sophia said. She finished her wine and walked to the kitchen to pour another glass. “Think about it. Please. I’m worried.” Sophia poured the wine, just a quarter of the glass for now. “Okay. I’ll think about it.” That seemed to satisfy Andrea. “Good. Now, when do you start your secondment?” “Monday.” “Damn. Can you get out of it?” She held her empty wineglass towards Sophia so she could fill it. “I don’t think so. It’s Monday through Thursday. Friday I will still be at Red Bluff International.” “Great. So Monday through Thursday you work for criminals, and Friday you work for Satan,” Andrea said. Sophia smiled, almost laughed, and it felt good. “Precisely.” Andrea smiled too, but it faded quickly. “Seriously though? You need to get out of there. I’m not screwing around. It’s time. Your health depends on it.” “All right. I’ll send you my resume tomorrow.” “Really?” Andrea’s face brightened. “Yes. I think Red Bluff International is doing some shady shit with EBCasp National.” Andrea nodded. “That’s why I’m double worried for you. Have you heard anything?” “I dug around on the hard drives. I found a bunch of Limited Liability Corporations. Tons and tons of them. It looks like they were used to get tax ID

numbers, but not filed with the state.” She shook her head. “I don’t really know what I’m looking at though, could be normal for a company to have a bunch of LLCs like that. I found other docs, too. I wasn’t sure what they were. All right there.” “Did you save them somewhere?” “I printed them out,” Sophia said. “Where are they?” Andrea said. “Can I look at them?” “Sure,” Sophia said. She was grateful to have something to do with her hands. She retrieved the stack of papers from her briefcase. “Here.” Andrea flipped through them. “Mind if I take these? I can look over them. It’s been many years since law school, but I know my way around corporate entities.” “Sure. I mean, they’re confidential so I can’t legally let you see them, but I’m so jacked at this point it doesn’t matter,” Sophia said. She took the papers from Andrea, put them back in the briefcase and then handed it to Andrea. “I’ll be careful, hon,” Andrea said. “All right. I think I’m going to go to bed. I have work in the morning, and so do you.” “I’ll sleep on the couch. I don’t think you should be alone,” Andrea said. “No, it’s okay. I’m fine, Sophia.” “Nonsense.” Andrea pulled a thick folded quilt off the edge of the couch and draped it over herself. “I’m already in my jammies anyways. Night.” She smiled and turned off the living room light. Sophia stared at her for a minute as she settled into the couch, but she knew better than to argue with her. “Goodnight, Andrea. Thank you.” “Love your face!” Andrea called from the couch. She had the remote in her hand and was already surfing the channels at a low volume.

Sophia put the wineglasses in the sink, locked the door, and went to her bedroom. It was comforting to have another soul in the house. Andrea always knew just what to do. She used her cell phone to Google EUC’s that the agent had found. It seemed like a stack of papers was enough for Dmitri to get arrested. End Certificates. To certify that arms and weapons purchased were not being used for nefarious purposes. She closed the browser. She didn’t want to look anymore, didn’t want to think about it anymore. Eventually, her heart rate slowed down and her whirling mind gave way to sleep.

Chapter 13

Sophia’s extension rang for the ten millionth time at work that day. She’d dragged herself out of bed in time to say goodbye to Andrea as she was dashing out the front door, coffee in hand. She’d taken her time getting ready for work: curling her hair, putting on makeup, and carefully selecting the right pencil skirt to match her favorite deep red blouse. She didn’t really give two craps about how she looked on that day more than she would any other, but at least it had given her more time to avoid going to work. She’d forced herself to go through the requisitions and check over the new hires. She’d avoided looking at her cell phone, which had no missed calls or texts. Of course, he couldn’t call her if he was being held somewhere. More importantly, she didn’t really want to hear from him again. Her line was still ringing. Marsha’s voice came over the intercom. “Sophia, Andrea’s on the line. She says it’s urgent.” “Thanks, Marsha. I’ll pick it up.” She snapped it up. “Hey.” She tried to sound perky and awake. “You sound like crap. Have you had enough coffee?” Andrea’s voice came over the line. She sounded great, like she’d slept for ten hours instead of four. “No. There’s not enough coffee in the world for today.” “Pour yourself a big cup of something and sit down. I went through your papers.” Sophia leaned forward in her chair. “And?” “And I did some research on these special purpose entities. They’re little corporations made for one specific purpose.” She sighed. “Okay, and that matters…” “Because corporations like these can be used for very bad purposes. Very

specific items are being transferred to them. It almost looks like they’re trying to hide...where stuff is from. What nation it’s from. I think they’re trying to go around some import and export regulations.” “Whoa,” Sophia whispered. “There’s more. I think they’re hiding financial assets. And it looks like some of them have silent partners with very convoluted structures. I found a few where the owners of the parent corporation overlapped with the special purpose corporation. In sum, very illegal shit. It’s hard to tell, though. I need more information. More documents. I need to see if they are filed with the secretary of state. An investigator should look at these.” “Oh, my God. What do I do?” Sophia wrapped the phone cord around her finger. Andrea exhaled loudly. “Look, technically, you should research until you find more evidence, then whistle blow. I can only imagine that they are running afoul of the securities and international trade regulations. I’m not an expert at this stuff.” Sophia dropped her head to her desk. “My whole career. Ever since I was an intern in college. All here. All in these hallways.” “I know. Which is why I want you to get out,” Andrea said. “I want to shred these papers and I want you to get out. I want you to hand in your notice right now and leave. You’ll find a new job. I’ve already submitted your resume to ten companies. Please, Sophia. Get away from there.” Sophia stared at her office, silence filling her ear. She stared around her large plush office, big enough for a desk and two couches. She’d worked her way up from a low-level HR rep all the way to the head of HR and Benefits for the entire, multi-billion dollar publicly held company. But she was already in too deep. She’d already not reported it when guns were pulled on her and the executives. She’d let them sweep it under the rug, her silence bought with a hefty pay raise. Then she’d rifled around the hard drives, looking at things she shouldn’t have, finding things that she shouldn’t have. And Dmitri, she’d knowingly… “No,” she said out loud. “I can’t run. I’m in too deep.”

“What? No you’re not. Please.” “I’ll look for a new job, but I’m not going to leave right now. I’m going to see this through. Do this right. Give proper notice.” “Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. This is a mess,” Andrea said. “I wish we could un-see all this crap.” “Give the papers back to me; you never saw them. I don’t want you to get tangled up in all this mess,” Sophia said. “I’ll give them back, and don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine,” Andrea said. “Okay. We’ll figure this out,” Sophia said. She untangled the phone wire she’d twisted around all her fingers. “Thank you for looking at this. It’s good to know what kind of stuff this company is really into.” “That’s the thing,” Andrea said. “This is probably just the tip of the iceberg. These are bad people. And they’re doing very bad things. You might be in danger, especially if they know you know.” “No,” Sophia said. “No one here would hurt me. Fire me, yes. Destroy my career? In a heartbeat. But not hurt me.” “Are you sure?” Andrea said. “Yes. I’m fine. Don’t worry.” “Okay. My four o’clock is waiting in the lobby. I gotta go. I’ll drop off the papers later.” Sophia said goodbye and hung up. She stared at the phone long after it was back in the cradle. Emptiness filled her, and she was already empty. She’d been gutted from the inside out when she’d lost Joshua and Landon. She’d turned to her career after, burying herself in her work while she mourned for the lives she’d lost and the future she would never have. No matter what was going on, she’d always had Red Bluff International. She’d been there for so long it had become tangled up in her identity.

And now it was torn to shreds. She’d been blind. She’d heard the rumblings. She’d seen the SEC investigators in the office a couple years ago, but she’d turned a blind eye. She didn’t look. And damn, if she could find it that easily, then… Then she hadn’t wanted to know the truth. She was angry. She squeezed her hands into fists so hard her fingernails dug into her palms. Screw them. They’d brought Dmitri into her life. They’d lied to her. She wasn’t going to run. She was going to fight. She unclenched her fists. Little white crescents were on the insides of her hands from where her nails had dug into the skin. She pushed the intercom. “Yes, Sophia?” Marsha’s voice came over the line. Always professional. Always good. What Sophia used to be like. “Hold my calls and don’t let anyone in my office.” “Sure,” Marsha said. “Everything okay?” “Yes, Marsha. Everything is fine,” she said in an even tone. Sophia turned off the intercom and slammed her files shut. She opened the network drive on her computer and began digging around the special purpose corporations. She hit the print button over and over and over until she’d burned through six reams of paper and filled three USB drives. She found the customs folders and printed those, too. She had no idea what she was printing, but it was a lot. She left at six, logging off her computer, putting all the documents in a big box. The longer she worked, the angrier she got. She couldn’t believe they were doing this shady stuff. She couldn’t believe how easy it had been for her to find. Granted, she had access to the drive that only a handful people in the company did, but still. How stupid could they be? She carried the box and her purse out to the elevators and to the parking garage. It weighed heavily in her arms. She felt the weight of all the secrets she had to

carry. The worst ones were in her own mind, not her hands. What was she going to do with all this information? She could whistle blow and bring the whole company down to its knees. Did she really want that? It would mean her career would be a waste. She’d forever be associated with THAT corporation. Nobody would touch her with a ten foot pole. Truly though, she didn’t even know what she was carrying. Someone with expertise and a lot of time would have to piece it all together. She’d found thousands and thousands of corporations. All a tangled mess with overlapping . That just didn’t seem right, but what did she know? Maybe it was normal. She reached her car and popped her trunk open with the button on the key fob. Once she put the box in the back, the weight on her conscience swelled. The real reason she was saving/stealing the info weighed on her mind. Leverage. Leverage she could use against Red Bluff International. Leverage she could use to help Dmitri. No. She couldn’t think of him. She wouldn’t. She slammed her trunk shut. She missed him, and she hated herself for it. She missed his intense green eyes. His tall, strong body. The way he said her name. How soft he’d been when he’d told her he cared for her. No. Stop. She glanced around the garage for the strange man she’d seen before, but he was nowhere to be seen. Well, that’s something. She drove home. The sun was hitting the horizon, turning everything into beautiful bright colors. Traffic was heavy, but once she got close to Allen Parkway it had lightened up. Runners and walkers wove by the bayous, and mothers pushed carriages on the wide sidewalks. Life moved on regardless of what was happening in her life. She’d learned that the hard way when they’d died.

The sun had risen the morning after the terrible car accident. After the agonizing phone call to Landon’s mother. Cars had started up for the next morning’s commute. Babies had cried. People got up and went to work while she had lain in the dark and suffered. She parked in her spot and then carried the box up the stairs. She stashed it in the coat closet near the front door, then shoved it in the back and covered it with coats. The USB drives she threw in a random drawer in her kitchen. Once those things were put away, she felt lighter. She changed into loose cotton pants and a tank top and cranked up the AC. She rummaged through the kitchen for her knives to cut some vegetables to cook with chicken. It was there, shoved into the corner of her kitchen counter, behind the wine bottles. A gun. His gun. Still in the holster. It chilled her to the bone. The gunrunner had left his gun in her space. It was a symbol of everything bad about him. Fear mixed with desire rolled through her. That was the sickness in her, that she would be afraid of him and want him all at the same time. That maybe the fear did excite her. And that was wrong. Very, very wrong. She picked it up, and it felt heavy in her hand. It couldn’t have weighed that much, but it felt heavier than her boxes of stolen information from her company. She pointed it towards an outside wall, away from the interior of the condo and then pulled it out of the holster. It was loaded, judging by the weight, but she was a Texan—she knew her way around a semi-automatic handgun. She pushed the magazine release with her right hand, catching the long, 20-round magazine with her left. She moved the slide back and forth until a bullet popped out of the chamber. She twirled it in her hand. 40 caliber, hollow point. She plopped it down on the counter and then focused her attention on the gun. She was no expert, but she’d never seen anything like it. Heavy and black. No manufacturer. No markings. Nothing. She wasn’t knowledgeable enough to know the maker just by looking.

She set it down and then picked up the holster. A whiff of cologne reached her. She put the holster near her nose and inhaled deeply. His scent was strong, which made sense. After all, the holster had been tucked against his skin, probably day after day. It brought everything back to her that she’d been fighting off—the intense sex, the way he stared at her while he made love to her, all of the things he’d said to her that she thought she’d never wanted to hear from another man. The tears came next. They kept coming as she cried for her loss. She had feelings for him, whether they were right or wrong, and she needed to feel them and mourn the end of his presence. She needed to mourn the loss of the little flicker of light that had come back in her soul. She needed to mourn the loss of a career, in a trust that was violated with a company where she had dedicated years of her life. She sank to the kitchen floor, still holding holster. She thought of Josh. How he’d asked her to marry her in their weekly afternoon walk at Memorial Park. He’d made her warm and soft and care in a way she never had before. She’d started hugging people. She stopped shying away from intimacy. She’d become less selfish. She’d become part of a family, her own family. She thought of Landon, how he’d wiggled his way into her heart, and she had loved him hard, like he was her own child. She’d worried about him constantly —whether his diet was okay, whether he was adjusting to his dad’s remarriage to her, whether he was happy in school. All of the worry in the world hadn’t saved him. The police officers had told her it wasn’t her fault, but she’d been driving when the drunk driver had slammed into them. She’d replayed it over and over in her head, wondering if there was anything she could have done to make it play out differently. The drunk man that killed them had lived with only minor injuries. He had no car insurance and an expired driver’s license. He was just an alcoholic fuck driving his sister’s car. Josh’s and Landon’s deaths were senseless in every sense of the word. She hated life, hated everything. Didn’t have anything to live for, except her career.

She pulled herself off the floor and went to her couch. She dried her tears and watched the news—no mention of the arrest of Dmitri. She fell asleep with the TV as her only company.

Chapter 14

“Right this way, Ms. Latrude.” Sophia nodded and smiled, then followed the woman into an elevator. “Just scan your badge here and then you can push the button for the proper floor. You’re authorized on the second and fifth floor.” “I understand.” The woman, Dawna, she said her name was, waited expectantly. Sophia managed to not roll her eyes while she waved her badge in front of the scanner and selected the second floor. “Good,” Dawna said crisply, as if Sophia was a child. The elevator lurched and Sophia gritted her teeth. It was her first day of the secondment. She’d been photographed, badged, and shown around by a very obnoxious, bubbly Dawna. Her sweater had cats on it and her red glasses were secured to her neck with gold beads which cascaded down the side of her face. She took them off and on often, as if it was a nervous habit. Dawna was probably a really nice lady, but it was way too early for Sophia to deal with someone like her. She followed Dawna out of the elevator and down the hall to her new office. She found her eyes darting around for glances of Dmitri or Gram. Hell, she’d take Baldy at this point. She chided herself as her heart sank. She was on the floor that housed HR, ing, and some Legal. He wouldn’t be here. Wouldn’t be anywhere near here. If he was here, he’d be in his private office. She needed to stop thinking about him. Dawna was yammering on and on about the office, which was lovely. White desk. White walls. White leather sofa. Crisp and clean and modern. Dawna finally left her alone to settle in before IT arrived to walk her through training on their HR portal system. She put her briefcase down and walked to window. She wasn’t very high up so she could see people clearly on the sidewalk below and hear the traffic.

That was fine with her. It made her feel less alone. So far everyone had been nice. There were a lot of Russians, but also Americans, Indians, and a few expats from Europe. It wasn’t what she expected, this nice façade of professionalism. She guessed most of the people were what she had been: trusting that their company was on the up and up. They probably had no idea of the dangers lurking in their hallways. She sank into her white leather chair and called Marsha. “Sophia! I miss you already. How long is your secondment?” Marsha asked after the introductory greetings. “Only a few months, and I’ll be in on Friday.” “Yeah, I know,” Marsha said. “Any missed calls?” Sophia asked. “Are you handling everything okay?” “Fine. Everything is fine but…” Marsha’s voice trailed off. “But what?” Sophia asked. Marsha whispered. “They were in your office. Ms. Relder, Don Leed, and a few others. They went through your desk, said they needed something but I don’t know what they could have needed.” Sophia froze, worry and fear pushing through her veins. “What?” “Yeah, it was weird. They did it early this morning. I wouldn’t have known except I came in extra early and caught them. I asked if I could call you for them, but they said not to bother you.” She sighed and Sophia heard all the tension in her voice. They knew. They knew she had ed the documents. Of course they did. Of course they could tell. She knew they would find out. She took a deep breath before answering, carefully choosing her tone and words. “It’s fine, Marsha. Don’t worry about it. I have a feeling I know what they were looking for.”

“Okay,” Marsha said. “Sophia, is everything okay? You’ve been...off. Things have been off.” Sophia glanced at her partially open door before answering. This time she whispered, “Marsha, I’m going to put you in touch with someone. Her name is Andrea. She’s a recruiter. I want you to get out of there. Find another job. I’ll give you a reference.” “Are you firing me?” Marsha said. “No. Not at all. I would never do that. I am trying to help you. Please trust me and get out of this company. It is not okay to work there anymore. Do you understand? Can you trust me?” “You’re scaring me,” Marsha said. “But I’ll listen. I will.” “Okay. We never had this conversation,” Sophia said. “I know, Sophia. I hope you’re leaving, too.” Marsha hung up. Sophia processed this, twisting the opal ring on her right middle finger round and round. Hopefully Marsha would take her advice. She heard the echo of Dmitri in her when she asked Marsha to blindly trust her. That wasn’t fair. It hadn’t been fair of Dmitri to ask her that. Look where it had gotten her. A light knock on her door brought her eyes up. She expected IT, but that wasn’t who stood in her door frame. “Mr. Alvang!” She couldn’t hide her shock. She stood quickly, buttoning her suit jacket as she stood. He smiled and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. Fear wrapped around her when he did. She ed that cold smile. He’d met them in the boardroom, right before Dmitri and the armed men had come in. He’d tried to get her to leave, probably not to spare her but rather to keep her from knowing his dirty little secrets. Calm down. She had to play it cool. He was here to feel her out. She was a liability to him because she’d been there. Red Bluff International had put her in

that horrible situation, and now here she was, alone and unprotected to deal with this herself. “What a pleasant surprise,” she said in a calm, professional voice. It sounded so smooth it even surprised her. She strode toward him with big confident steps and shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.” He shook her hand, one eyebrow rolling up. “And you, Ms. Latrude.” “Please,” she said warmly. “Call me Sophia.” “Sophia,” he said with his thick Russian accent. It made her heart hurt just a little bit to hear her name in that accent. They were silent. Tension grew, but she didn’t want to make nervous chatter, so she let the silence linger. “Please sit,” he finally said. He gestured to her office chair. “I will. It’s a beautiful office.” He smiled at her comment and then sauntered to her desk. He ran his fingers across the top, one side to the other, never taking his eyes off of her. “So smooth,” he said. She forced her smile to stay plastered on her face. “I trust you are settling in okay?” “Absolutely. You’ve got a good group here,” she said. That made him laugh, and they both knew why. She stretched her smile even wider even though she was alarmed. “Well,” he rapped her desk a couple of times with outstretched fingers. “Just came to check on you. I’ll be keeping a close eye on you.” This was fear. Just fear. No excitement. Just a sense that she was really in over her head. He removed his hand from her desk, turned around, and walked toward her door. She was scared, yes, but she was smart, too, and damn tired of people messing around with her.

The anger emboldened her. “Mr. Alvang!” she called out. He stopped and then turned to face her. His smile slipped when he saw her face. She had dropped her smile and her pleasant tone. She tried to look imive and distant. Like Dmitri. “You don’t have anything to worry about with me so no need to drop by. Ever.” He didn’t answer, but turned away and left her office. The surprised look on his face satisfied her. The IT guy came in shortly after, and she pushed all the crazy crap out of her mind and focused on her work. By the time the day ended, she’d been trained by IT, oriented with the second floor, and had dealt with a stack of openings that needed to be filled ASAP. The rest of the week dragged by. She found herself searching for Dmitri in the hallways during the day and then shaming herself for it. After work, she worried and worried about what she would return to the next morning. At night, she searched for a bit of happiness or distraction, but she could feel the darkness encroaching more and more. It was the darkness that had taken her before. After they’d died, it surrounded her and filled her. It kept her in bed. Made her push food away. Made her think about ending her own life. Made her not care anymore. On its more merciful days, it had made her numb. It had receded, after months of therapy and short term medication. It had slipped away and she’d been able to laugh again. To feel joy. To want friendship. To feel lonely. To want sex. To eat. She’s stopped going to therapy. She’d thrown herself into work. She’d been better. But she hadn’t, because the blackness was still there, waiting for her to be weak again. Now that she was, it was back. She thought about therapy, but she couldn’t. If she slipped and said the wrong thing, she could get herself in trouble, so she didn’t. Friday became a happy day, or at least a less miserable one. She would be back in her familiar, old office. She could find out what they had been looking for. She could search for more damning evidence on the network.

She felt light enough Friday morning to stop on her way for her favorite coffee. She dashed into her office early, before Marsha arrived. She punched the power button on her computer and tapped her foot impatiently while she waited for it to boot up. She scanned her desk, which was clearly disheveled from their search, but saw nothing missing. Finally, she logged in and opened her email, which was packed to the brim. She clicked on the network folder “Accessed Denied.” She clicked on her local, personal folders. Empty. They’d actually deleted her work documents. Her legitimate work documents that she needed to do her job. Then they’d removed her from the network drives. They’d violated her privacy, but she had violated theirs. It was their own damn fault for being complete and total idiots and not even bothering to hide their shady shit from her. Because they knew you would never care to look. But she did look. She sat at her desk, staring at her growing email inbox. Part of her wanted to storm up to Ana Relder’s office. But the other part knew better. She had to play the game. Keep cool. She wouldn’t say anything. Not a damn word. But she would destroy them. She frantically searched through her now messy desk and then ed her heavy sweater still hanging on the coat rack near her door. She ran to it and shoved her hands in the pockets until she found what she was looking for: a ring full of keys. Keys to Red Bluff International—every room in this building—keys to just about anywhere she needed to go. She was out of her office and in the stairwell in a flash. The records room was one floor up. Her heels were noisy on the stairs, but there was no one else in

there that early. She ran to the records room door and swiped her badge. It flashed red and stayed locked. Fuck. She tried entering her by code on the keypad. Red again. They would know she tried to get in here. She went up one more floor to ing. She was already ashamed at what she was about to do. She pulled her blouse down, exposing her ample cleavage. She tousled her hair and walked into Bill’s office. He was there, of course. Rumpled tie and coffee stains on his tie, but the guy was a genius. And, he was head of finance. His eyes widened when she walked in. “Hi, Sophia. How are you? How is the secondment?” She smiled and titled her head. “Oh, it’s work. You know how it is.” She walked towards him, purposefully adding an extra swing to her hips. “Can I ask you for a favor?” She paused in front of his desk. He had nowhere to look but at her narrow waist and large breasts. “Uh, yeah. Sure,” he stammered. Poor guy. He’d always had a thing for her. “Can I borrow your badge?” She leaned forward and laughed. “I can’t find mine and I need to get into the records room before my new hire shows up at eight.” His eyes bounced between her cleavage and her face. “Um...I’m not supposed to do that, but yeah. Sure. Can you bring it right back?” “Of course!” He unclipped his badge from his collar and pressed it into her hand. “Be back in a sec!” she chirped. She hurried to the stairwell and down one floor. She flashed his badge in front of the scanner. After a heart-pounding pause, it turned green and popped open. She slipped inside, moving down the narrow hallway until she was in front of the contracts archives.

This door opened with an old fashioned metal key, one that she had on her chain. It took about five tries to get it, but soon she was inside. Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw. The narrow shelves were normally stacked with boxes and file folders, floor to ceiling, stuffed as far as the eye could see. They were empty. Completely empty. But the room wasn’t. In the middle of the room, several large clear plastic bags were filled to the brim with shredded papers. The bags were at least six feet tall, and all full. She looked at the mountain of docs that stretched up to the ceiling in front of her and then backed away until she hit the door. They shredded every fucking contract? How could they do that? They were required by law to keep certain types of contracts. They were getting desperate. Crazy. Trying to cover their tracks. This scared her more than anything she’d seen so far. She backed away, slowly closing the door behind her. She got out of the records area, then back to the cold stairwell. She dropped off the badge with Bill, not even bothering to smile or pretend. She returned to her office and laid on the couch, legs crossed. She let it all hit her. The lying. The violation of trust. The sickness. The darkness. She wondered how many laws she’d already broken. She’d lied. She’d failed to report a crime. She’d accepted a bribe to remain quiet. She’d taken proprietary information from the company. She’d lied to a federal agent. The lies stacked on top of each other and made her feel sick and defeated. She almost let it overtake her then. She almost let the blackness wash back over her and take her away with its soothing darkness. She would have welcomed the numbness. She would have loved to not care anymore. But she wouldn’t. She wasn’t that person anymore.

She stood up, smoothed her hair out, and returned to her desk.

Chapter 15

Sophia strapped on her running shoes and slipped outside. It was dark and shadowy by the bayou, but she wasn’t afraid of muggers. Not anymore. She ran and ran, letting the miles run under her feet. Running kept the darkness away and let her mind process things. Her strength came back and fortified her body and mind. The miles distracted her. Made her think of things other than Dmitri. Made her happy. Made her focused. She’d gone back to work, pretending nothing had happened. She reported to her secondment, working diligently. Three weeks had gone by. She’d started running. Started taking care of herself. She fought back the darkness. She was different now, in many ways. She’d accepted the coldness buried deep in her chest. It was who she was before Josh came around and who she was now that he was gone. She was a survivor. And survivors do what they must. She went on all the interviews that Andrea scheduled for her. She had five companies interested in her now. She moved forward. Always forward. She didn’t break. She bent and went with the flow. She returned to her condo, drenched with sweat and hungry and thirsty. She paused in the doorway, putting her key on her small entry table. She saw the picture of Josh and Landon. She picked it up, her fingers gently stroking their familiar faces. She kissed the picture, very gently. “Goodbye,” she whispered. She carried the picture to her bedroom, opened her closet, and packed it away in a box where she’d put Josh’s things. When it was gone, she felt lighter. Energy surged through her. She did a quick internet search on her smart phone

for realtors and called the first one she pulled up. It clicked into his voicemail. “Hi. My name is Sophia. I would like to sell my condo. I know these go fast around here. I look forward to speaking with you.” She hung up and smiled. She could leave this place. Josh and Landon weren’t here anymore. There was nothing here. Nothing for her at all. She made another phone call to secure an appointment with her hairdresser. She was booked, but she cleared her schedule when Sophia offered to pay triple. Sophia jumped in the shower and rinsed off. She changed into comfortable jeans and a low cut, sleeveless linen blouse. She drove to the Heights and parallel parked in front of her favorite salon. Her hair stylist, Betsy, greeted her with a warm smile and a glass of champagne. Sophia sat in the chair at her station and was quiet while Betsy draped a smock over her tank top. “What are we doing?” Betsy asked, running her fingers through Sophia’s long hair as they both faced the mirror. “Trim? Highlights?” “Brunette. I want to go Brunette. And cut it shorter, up to my shoulders.” Betsy spun her around so they were face to face. “Are you sure? That would be like, six or eight inches gone. Especially with the hair color, that’s a huge change.” “That’s what I want. A huge change.” “All right. If you’re sure.” She showed Sophia color swatches. She picked out the darkest, blackest brown she could find. Betsy held the swatch up to her face. “I think it will work with your coloring, but you’ll have to re-think your make-up.” “No big deal,” Sophia said. Betsy smiled. “I like this new you. Let me go mix that color up.”

Sophia smiled and it almost felt real. She watched the other women around her, easily smiling and flipping through magazines and chatting with their stylists about husbands and babies. She swallowed back a lump in her throat. She wasn’t wallowing any more. She was moving forward. Betsy came back and used a brush to coat her hair with the thick dark dye. The dye was cool against her scalp. She left it for about twenty minutes while Sophia flipped through a girly magazine filled with stupid articles on sex written by women who’d never had a fuck like Dmitri and pictures of celebrities she didn’t care about. When the timer was up, Betsy rinsed her hair and led her to the mirror. When she removed the towel, Sophia sucked in her breath. It was dark. Very dark like she wanted. Even though it was the exact shade she picked, it was a shock. It made her blue eyes stand out like pale fire. She looked so different, like a new person. Thirty minutes later, she walked out with brunette hair that swung around her shoulders in beautiful, textured layers and easily made her lunch date with Andrea. “Whoa!” Andrea said when they met in front of the restaurant. She hugged her and then ran her fingers down Sophia’s hair. “Freaking gorgeous! I had no idea you would be so hot as a brunette. I barely recognize you!” “Thanks!” Sophia said. She beamed at the compliment. They stood in line to order their burgers, grabbed their beers and then took their number placards to a picnic table style table outside. “Sooo. You seem better,” Andrea said. She waved down the waiter carrying their burgers, then handed the order number back to him. Sophia took a bite of her bison burger. “Yeah. I think I am. I’m making some big changes.” “Good.” Andrea took a swig of her beer. “I’m assuming you haven’t heard from Dmitri, then?”

Sophia shook her head back and forth. “No, and that’s fine.” Andrea flicked her hair behind her. “Is it?” “Yes. I’m doing things differently now. This is the new me.” Sophia tossed her hair back for emphasis. Andrea smiled, but it wasn’t completely genuine. “Good, Soph. I was worried.” “Worried?” Sophia said. “Yeah, I was. I was worried you’d try to get back with him. He’s a powerful man. Hard to resist.” She tapped the label on her beer absentmindedly. “I’m not power hungry,” Sophia said. She played with the ends of her freshly shorn hair. “That’s not what that was.” Andrea ignored her defensive tone. “That’s what it was all right,” Andrea said. “You’ve experienced the most disempowering thing that can happen to a human being: death. You lost your family. You learned the very hard way that life is not in your control. Then you meet Dmitri, who has power in spades, even over things he shouldn’t.” She tilted her head to the side. “Not a coincidence you were so attracted to him.” Whoa. That was a little too close to home. It hurt because it might be true. She hid the pain with a swig of her beer, but Andrea watched her with an unmovable gaze. “Maybe. Maybe not. It was more than that.” She put her beer down harder than she intended. “It doesn’t matter now anyway, because it’s over. He’s gone and I’m moving on with my life. I’m selling my condo. I already have people looking at it.” Andrea smiled. “You’re finally selling your condo? Thank freakin’ God. I told you that you needed a fresh start.” Sophia toyed with the rim of her bottle. “Yeah. You were right about that. I wasn’t ready until now. I felt like if I lived there, I would them better, almost like I needed to stay there to honor them or something. But it’s okay to move forward. I even put their pictures away. For now.” Andrea smiled wide, flashing her perfectly straight, white teeth. “I’m so happy

for you, Sophia. This all sounds good.” Sophia took another bite of her burger, enjoying the flavors of the avocado, tomato, onion, and meat all mixed up. It was little moments like these that gave her hope—where she could simply enjoy something—it meant she was living in the moment. “What are you going to do about...the stuff? The papers.” Andrea glanced around them as she spoke. Sophia smiled. “I wanted to ask you about that. If I talk to an attorney, retain them, there’s a privilege. They couldn’t tell anyone, right?” Andrea frowned. “Right. It’s privileged, but there are exceptions. They are required to disclose information if it will prevent serious bodily harm or death of an individual, for example.” Sophia nodded. “That’s fine. I’m not planning on killing anyone. I’m going to hire an attorney and tell them what I know about Red Bluff International. I’m going to ask them to help me whistle blow with minimal damage to me and to protect me from prosecution.” Andrea tossed her half-eaten burger back in the basket. “Are you sure? Can’t you just take a new job and move on?” She bit her lower lip. “You’re doing so well. I’d hate to see you get bogged down in an investigation and the litigation. These things can drag on for years.” Sophia took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly. “I know,” she finally said. “I’m still thinking it over. They kicked me off the network and wiped my computer. I went looking for hard copies of records and found a big of pile of shredded stuff instead.” Andrea’s mouth dropped open. “What? Holy shit. That’s bold. They know you know.” “They definitely know, though nothing has been said to me directly. That’s why I have nothing to lose about turning them in.” Andrea stared her down. “I don’t know, Soph. I’m worried about this.”

“I know. Which is why I’m hoping you could recommend an attorney to me. At least let me talk to someone. They can help me decide what to do without risk to me or anyone else.” Sophia reached across the wide table to put her hand on Andrea’s arm. “Please.” “All right.” Andrea pulled out her purse. “I know a guy. He used to work for the Securities Exchange Commission and has held some major appointments at the White House. Now he’s the head of white collar investigations and litigation group at a big firm.” She pulled out a business card holder and started flipping through it. “He definitely knows his stuff. He’s the best, but he’s not going to be cheap.” “That’s fine. I have money.” She had a large amount from the insurance payout on Joshua’s life policy. She’d never used it. Just shoved it in a couple of s. She felt guilty about having the money. She hadn’t ever planned on touching it, until now. “Ah. Here it is.” Andrea handed her the card. Sophia scanned the name. Reginald Joshua. Of course his name would be Joshua. She tucked the card into her wallet. “Thanks, Andrea. What would I do without you?” Andrea smiled. “We’ve got each other’s back. The shitty-parent club, right?” “Right,” Sophia giggled. “Come. Let’s go to a wine bar. The night is young and you look hot,” Andrea said. They both chugged their beers and left together in Andrea’s car.

Chapter 16

Sophia chugged her coffee, then downed a bottle of water. She threw the empty bottle in the little white trash can in her EBCasp National office. She had a slight headache from her and Andrea’s unexpected late Sunday night wine fest, but she was better because of it. She’d actually had fun, and it was nice for her and Andrea to spend time together without wallowing in Sophia’s problems. She took the business card for the attorney and flipped it over in her hand, running her fingers over the smooth texture. It was a big decision. Not one to be taken lightly. Andrea was right. The easiest thing to do would be to walk away and move on with her life. It might even be the right thing to do. She put the card back in her wallet and stashed it in the drawer of her desk. She glanced at her watch—she had a meeting with the ing heads in five minutes. They had several big positions they wanted her to fill during her short secondment. She pulled out her mirror and retouched her lipstick. It was too light of a color with her darker hair, but she hadn’t had time to get new makeup yet. It would have to do. She grabbed her notepad and pen and made her way to the elevator bank. Several of her new coworkers smiled and waved. They’d all noticed her hair and the compliments had been flooding in. She caught a glimpse of herself in the elevator mirror and almost didn’t recognize herself. The brunette hair gave her an air of sophistication. The snug navy blue skirt suit she’d chosen set off the color nicely and brought out the blue in her eyes. She got off on the fifth floor and began scanning the door numbers for the conference room. She glanced down at her watch. Crap. She was going to be a minute or so late. She got flustered as she walked down the long hall. Finally, she saw it. She pushed open the door and strode confidently into the room. She expected a room of four finance workers, but that wasn’t what she found. Instead she found something she couldn’t have ever prepared for. The air flew out her lungs, and the room compressed around her.

Five people sat around the conference table. Including Dmitri. He was wearing a suit which clung to his broad shoulders. Next to him was a woman in a red suit, her curly black hair cascading down to her elbows. Three other suited men she didn’t know sat around the table. Gram was there too, standing in the corner. When the door opened, Dmitri’s eyes flew up to her. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. She saw the moment that recognition fluttered in his eyes. She saw the shock on his face. Then it was gone. His face was neutral again. He broke her gaze and focused back down at the table. Her heart sank deep into her chest. It hurt. It hurt to see him. It hurt that he wasn’t even acknowledging her. It all hurt, and she wasn’t ready for it. She honestly believed she’d never see him again. Now that he was in front of her, all her feelings bubbled up. She had to confront them; she couldn’t pretend anymore. She composed herself. “I’m sorry. I made a wrong turn.” The pretty woman smiled at her. “What room were you looking for?” “Um...” Sophia cleared her throat. “A-twelve.” “One more door down,” the woman said. “You were close.” She offered a warm smile. “Thank you. My apologies,” Sophia managed to say calmly. She left the room quickly, not daring to look back. She stopped in the hallway and leaned against the wall. Her face was flushed with heat, her fingers shaking. Fuck. She gasped for air. He wasn’t in custody. He was free. And he hadn’t called. But that’s what she wanted. She was jealous of the woman sitting next to him. And angry. And hurt. It had all been a lie. He hadn’t cared for her. He just wanted to fuck her. She’d always had a hard time telling the men that wanted to sleep with her from the

men that actually liked her. She’d really messed it up this time. Maybe Andrea was right. Maybe she’d just been drawn to his power. Her conflict raged within her. She half expected Dmitri to come after her. But of course, he did not. She pulled her feelings inside and tucked them away. She didn’t realize how fragile she was until now. How many lies she’d told herself. She smoothed her hair and stood, walking into her meeting. “Sorry, I’m late,” she said. She slid into her seat and pretended to listen. She asked the right questions. She jotted down answers. She smiled and made eye , but she was far away. She could feel the blackness encroaching again. She reeled with shock that she’d seen him. That he had been so close. That she hurt so badly. She shouldn’t be feeling anything at all, but she felt so much. She excused herself when the meeting was done and walked quickly down the long hallway. She kept her eyes forward as she ed the room where he still might be. Her body yearned to see him again, but her mind wanted to run and hide. She obeyed her mind. She ran to her office, shut the door, and took deep breaths until she was calm again. She couldn’t believe how undone she’d become. Then she got mad. Mad at herself. Angry at Dmitri. Furious with Red Bluff International. She shut down her computer and left early, not bothering to explain to anyone what she was doing. What were they going to do—fire her from her secondment? She drove home, fingers clenching the steering wheel. She felt it all now. Everything that had happened caught up to her and it was painful. Her feelings for Dmitri. The lies she’d told. All of it. She was almost home when her agent called—her condo was being shown right now, so she couldn’t go home. Darn. She needed to stay busy. She didn’t have any running clothes on her or else she would have run along the bayou until her legs gave out.

She pulled into the nearest grocery store. Once inside, she tugged out a small cart and began walking through the aisles. He hadn’t called. Still hadn’t called. She’d wanted him to call. She’d wanted to see him again. She’d cared for him, more than she’d wanted to it. It wasn’t love, but it was something. Something that hurt now. She paused in the middle of an aisle, bringing her shaking hand to her mouth as if she could use it to keep the emotions bottled up inside. She’d never itted it to herself before. She’d pushed it all away, focused on running and being happy and coloring her hair like that was going to transform her. But she wasn’t any different. She was the same. She felt the same. It was all a façade. “Sophia?” a familiar feminine voice intruded on her thoughts. She snapped to attention, dropping her hand. It was Sarah. Joshua’s ex-wife. Landon’s mother. She hadn’t seen her since the funerals. Not today. Please. “Hi, Sarah,” she said. “How are you?” Her voice came out a little wobbly. A wisp of a smile crossed Sarah’s face. She was pretty, in the girl next door sort of way with dark blond hair and blue eyes. They’d always gotten along well. They weren’t friends, but they’d respected each other. Sarah and Josh had married right after high school and divorced a couple years later, but remained friendly. “I’m okay. Are you? You looked a little upset.” Sophia glanced at the aisle she was in. She didn’t even know where she was. The brightly colored bottles in front of her swam into focus. Shampoo. “Oh, you know. Just having a hard time picking the right one,” she said. Sarah smiled and fidgeted with her purse. “I almost didn’t recognize you with dark hair. You look really good.” “Thanks. You look great, too. As always.” Sophia shifted her weight. “How are you really doing?”

Sarah sighed. “I’m here. I survived. I keep going.” She pushed her lips together and looked away. Sophia knew the gesture. She’d done it herself many times. Composing yourself for public when you’re ripping apart on the inside. Sophia nodded. “I know,” she squeaked. She couldn’t imagine how Sarah felt, losing her only child so young. Sophia had loved Landon intensely, like he was her own, and she felt his loss every day in her bones. She could only imagine how Sarah felt; losing the child she’d carried and cared for from day one. They’d had the magical mother-child bond that only they could. “Look, I’ve been wanting to thank you, but I’ve been too big of a coward to call,” Sarah said abruptly. “What?” Sophia sad. “Thank me?” Sarah smiled, but her eyes were spilling tears. “You were so good to him, Sophia. You made it so much easier for him to have a step-mom and live in two homes. You loved him, and he knew it. He really loved you. It made his short life so much sweeter. And I’m thankful. I’ll always be thankful you did that for him so we could all have peace.” Pain washed over Sophia and her knees almost gave out. Tears rolled down her cheeks before she could stop them. She curled up her shaking fingers and rested them on her chin. “You’re too kind. He was a wonderful child. I was lucky to have him in my life,” she managed to speak. Sarah patted her arm. “I’m sorry you lost Josh. I miss him, too. You’re a good person. I hope you find happiness.” Then she walked away, leaving Sophia in pieces behind her. Sophia wrapped her fingers around the shopping cart, clenching it until her fingers went numb. She took deep, shaky breaths as tears ran down her cheeks. She struggled to gain control. She bit her lip, and the sting made her tears stop. She used the sleeve of her suit jacket to dab at her eyes and then swiped her knuckles under her eyes. They were smeared with her black mascara.

She abandoned her empty shopping cart and made a beeline for the exit. She jumped in her car, her jaw trembling as she fought back the fresh wave of pain. She drove home, soon finding herself parked in her lot. She ran up the stairs, unlocked her door with fumbling hands, and went inside. “Hello!” she called. She did a quick walk through to make sure the potential buyers were gone. It was empty, thank God. She shut and locked her front door. As soon as she was alone, the tears came. Sobs racked her body. Her chest heaved violently. Moans escaped her lips. Wave after wave of sadness hit her. Dmitri. She’d cared for him. She’d have to it it now and deal with it. Her heart wrenched as she thought of his cool expression. How easily his eyes slid away from her and back to the table. He’d been out of custody, and he never called. Didn’t give a shit about her. She knew it was stupid. He was bad news. There was no possibility of a future together, but she still missed him. She still thought about him all the time. She’d have to let it go, but she needed to grieve. Then the second wave of hurt crashed into her. Seeing Sarah. The words about Landon ripped her apart and made her feel wonderful at the same time. She’d loved them both so much, Joshua and Landon. She’d fought with reality for so long that they were really gone. That she’d driven the car that had led to their deaths. She’d hurt and hurt and hurt until she was empty inside. She sobbed until she couldn’t any more. She’d sunk to the floor and was propped against the door. She crawled forward until she was on all fours, taking deep breaths in and out until she calmed down. She lurched to her feet and kicked off her heels. She picked them up off the floor and walked into her room, throwing them in her closet. She peeled off her suit and changed into shorts and a t-shirt. She faced her reflection in the mirror. She was red and puffy and pathetic looking. A headache threatened to close in, pounding the side of her head. She washed off her face with splashes of cool water and then drank a glass of water.

She sat at the table with her cell phone in hand. She spun it around and around. She thought of calling Andrea, but all she did was complain to Andrea about her problems. Andrea believed in her. She thought that maybe Sophia wasn’t gone. That the real Sophia hadn’t died in the crash with Landon and Joshua. Maybe she was right. Maybe she was finally done being pathetic. She took the rose out of the vase on the counter and threw it in the trash, then retrieved her purse from the floor, digging through it frantically. She yanked out her wallet and rifled through it until she found the little card she was looking for. She dialed the numbers before she could second guess her decision.

Chapter 17

Sophia slipped out of her office at ten o’clock that morning, mumbling something about getting coffee. She headed down through the lobby of EBCasp, taking the elevator to the parking garage. She retrieved the box from her car and carried it into the tunnel system that wound below downtown Houston, underneath all the glossy, shiny buildings. She ed coffee shops and stores until she found the tunnel loop she was looking for: it went directly to the building that was her destination. Her arm felt like it was going to fall off by the time she made it to the light, airy lobby. “Welcome, how can I help you?” the receptionist asked. There were three at the large desk in the lobby, all pretty, all busy answering phones, and directing visitors. Sophia set the box down at her feet and then gave the woman a polite smile. “Sophia Latrude here to see Reginald Joshua.” The receptionist directed her to take a seat, which she did, dragging the box with her. She cursed herself for not grabbing a dolly or a rolling cart. She took the opportunity to dab some powder on her face and recompose herself. A tall black man with graying, closely shaved hair and sharp eyes approached her. “Ms. Latrude?” “Yes.” “I’m Reginald Joshua. Nice to meet you.” She stood and took his offered hand. He had a firm grip, which she returned. She followed him down the long hallway and into his office. He offered to help carry the box, but she declined. She’d made it this far, might as well finish the job. His office was large, with a window behind him that showed off the skyline district. She could see EBCasp’s building from there. Three ornate brown leather chairs were in front of an imposing large desk. “Please, take your pick,” he said. “Thank you.” She chose the middle one, placing the box on one of the chairs

next to her. He sat down too, unbuttoning his charcoal gray jacket as he did. “So you know Andrea?” he said. “Yes. We’ve been friends since undergrad.” He smiled. His face was kind, but his eyes were assessing her. “She seems to know everyone, that one.” “That she does.” She let her eyes wander around the office, taking in degrees on the wall. Undergrad at Harvard, master’s at UPenn, law school at Yale. This guy was smart. Really, really smart, and it made her feel better. “I’m hoping you can help me, Mr. Joshua. Andrea trusts you. She said you’re the best, and you’re a good person. If she trusts you, so do I.” “That’s high praise coming from her, and call me Reggie, please. I’m not very formal.” She smiled and relaxed even more. “Then please call me Sophia.” Her smile slipped. “I need help. I think the company I’m working for is doing unlawful things. And I’ve gotten pulled into it.” “All right. Let’s talk about it.” He folded his arms in front of him. “If I tell you these things, is there an attorney-client privilege?” she asked. “There is, if there is an attorney-client relationship. The law on when exactly that begins can be fuzzy. I am only required to disclose your information if it will stop death or imminent serious harm. ” “Let’s make it a clear line then. I don’t want any confusion,” Sophia said. “Can I sign something?” “Yes. I bill at $575 an hour for private clients like you, my associates charge a little less. Will that work?” he said. “Yes.” He didn’t seem surprised that she could afford him. “Before we go any further,

please tell me the name of your employer and nothing else.” “Red Bluff International,” she said. She pushed her palms together. “I’ve been seconded to EBCasp National, but I am on Red Bluff International’s payroll.” He nodded. “I’ve heard things about Red Bluff International. They’ve been investigated by the SEC before. But they’re not our clients, so no conflict. I’ll have my draft up a retainer and bring it in here for you to sign. That will formalize our relationship.” “Thank you.” He picked up his phone and called his , spelling out Sophia’s name. She came in not two minutes later with a form. Sophia read through it and signed at the bottom, almost crying with relief when she was done. She was going to do this. She was really going to do this. Reggie took the papers and stacked them neatly on the desk. “Now, tell me what’s going on.” She told him about all the LLCs she’d found and all the other weird documents. She told them about the shredded file room. She told him how she was kicked off the network and her computer files deleted. She did not talk about Dmitri. He asked a lot of questions, mostly about how she gained access to the files and why she printed them. Two hours later, she was exhausted. He looked a little worn, too. “We’ll go through these files and see what you’ve uncovered. Clearly, something is going on, but I won’t know until I get my hands on the data.” She nodded. “Good. Because I don’t understand the technical aspect. I just know something is very wrong there.” He leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen down. “I’m surprised they haven’t confronted you about anything. They’ve just ively deleted you off the network. That worries me.”

“Why?” Sophia said. “It’s an odd way to handle things. Please watch your back. Watch for people following you. Be careful and get out of there.” “I’m working on it,” she said. “Good.” He stood. “I’ll get a couple of my associates to help me go through these and call you with what we find out. We’ll go from there—figure out if you want to report them or go public. Either way, so far, you’re not culpable for anything here. You won’t be in any legal trouble, but that won’t stop them from making your life a living hell.” “I understand.” “Is there anything else I need to know? Anything they could use against you?” He must have seen the stricken look on her face, because he sank back down in his chair. “I can’t help you unless you tell me. Believe me, I’ve heard it all.” She hesitated, pushing her lips into a firm line. She’d wanted to leave Dmitri out of it for a multitude of reasons. “The worst thing that can happen is for me to be surprised by information I didn’t know. I can’t properly represent you unless I know everything.” He folded his hands in front of him again and watched her, waiting for her to confess her sins. “I became...involved, with one of the men from EBCasp.” She took a deep shaky breath and then filled in the gaps. She started with the meetings with the guns and ended with the plane ride and the bust by federal agents. She left off that she’d seen him recently. Reggie was ive. He didn’t even flinch as she told him she’d slept with an arms dealer. She’d guessed he’d probably heard just about everything in his career. When she was done, he nodded. “I’m glad you told me. We’ll be prepared for any questions they bring up about that. It could hurt your credibility.” “As it should,” she said.

“Sophia, I…” He trailed off, tapping his fingers. “I don’t mean to intrude or talk down to you. You’re my daughter’s age, so I feel…” He cracked his knuckles. “You are very intelligent, clearly. Very well educated. Why did you get involved with this man?” “It was a chemical reaction. Nothing I could help. I’m not sure why I let it go on. That’s something I’m working through right now.” He nodded. “I see. I won’t belittle you by pointing out the obvious, but you need to be careful. Quite frankly, I’m concerned for your personal safety at this point. I’m going to advise you to hire some private bodyguards. If you can afford me, then you can afford them.” He flipped through his rolodex and slid a card across the table. “These guys are good. They protect dignitaries and celebrities. They’re the best.” “Thank you.” She tucked it into her purse. “I’ll think about it.” “Please do.” He walked her to the lobby, they shook hands, and she left. She was relieved of the physical weight of the boxes and the responsibility of it all. It felt good to have someone else in on it. Reggie would sort it out. He would help her worry about what to do. She didn’t have to do this alone. She finally made it back to EBCasp after most people were coming back from lunch. If anyone noticed her three hour departure, they didn’t say anything. She sat in her office, working diligently on her requisitions, only pausing to sit in on interviews for the finance positions. She worked late to catch up. By the time 6:30 rolled around, she was exhausted. She made her way back to the parking garage, but she had a smile on her face. She was doing something, and it felt good. Someone knew all her secrets. They would help her. She had backup. She would take Red Bluff International down and then she would go on with her life. Consequences be dammed. Her stomach was growling, and all she could think about was food as she charged in the front door and straight into her kitchen.

Maybe that’s why she didn’t notice anything was wrong at first. Her stuff was everywhere. Drawers were emptied out on the floor. Furniture was overturned and cut open. Picture frames were smashed.

Chapter 18

She stumbled forward, fumbling with her purse to get out her phone. She gave up and sprinted for the front door. She needed to get the heck out. “Not another step or I will decorate the wall with your brains.” A loud, mechanical click followed the menacing statement. She froze, heart pounding, pulse swishing in her ears. “That’s right,” the male voice said. He was American. No accent. Deep. “Don’t you fucking move. Hands up.” She raised her shaking hands. Her knees where shaking. Fear rolled over her like a tidal wave, pulling her under. This might be it. She said nothing. Her face was wet. When did she start crying? “Turn around,” he said. She did. Slowly pivoting on her heels. He was leaned against her coat closet, partially cloaked the shadows. Black gloves adorned his hands, and he was pointing a hand gun with a very long barrel right at her. He was calm, expressionless. Hit man. That’s a silencer. He’s here to kill me. This was it. This was her end. She hoped Andrea didn’t find her body. She was glad Reggie knew everything. At least she had that. A story. A truth that one person knew, even if it was because she paid him to know. She didn’t speak. Just waited. He was waiting too, probably for her to beg for her life. “What are you doing here?” she finally said. “Don’t fucking do that.” He leapt forward, shoving the barrel of the gun into her head. The cold metal pushed into her temple. More tears came. It was so close. These were her last moments, and she was scared and alone. She wished she’d died with Joshua and Landon if she was

going to die. Then she wouldn’t have ever had to know the pain of losing them. “Okay, okay.” She tried to move away from him, but he pushed the gun harder into her head. “Who knows?” he said. She didn’t know what he was talking about—Dmitri? Red Bluff International? EBCasp? Someone else? She had too many dark secrets to know which one he was referring to. Either way, she would die. This was a hit man, not an ask-you-questions man. “I don’t know,” she whispered. She couldn’t bring herself to say more. There was no way out of this. “What the fuck did I just say? Don’t fucking pretend you don’t know!” he was shouting now. “But I don’t,” she whimpered. She saw his finger start to squeeze the trigger and closed her eyes. A muted boom filled her ears. The silencer muffled it, but because it was so close to her head, it might as well have been silencer-free. It was the loudest noise she’d ever heard. Louder than the car crash. Louder than the ocean. She waited for death to come, for the pain, for the end of it all. She was covered with warm blood. Strangely, she didn’t feel any pain. Maybe he’d severed her spine with the gun shot? She hoped so. She didn’t want to feel any pain. “Sophia?” said a voice. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?” It was his voice. The voice that haunted her. Dmitri. Her eyes flew open. He was crouched over her, gently probing her face and chest with his fingers. “Dmitri!” she said.

“Are you hurt?” he said. “I don’t think so.” She sat up. The hit man was dead. His face was gone, gray matter and pools of blood spilling all over her entry hall. “Holy shit!” She turned to Dmitri, pushing herself into his arms. He dropped his gun and held her, squeezing her tight. She saw blood dripping on his shirt and pants. It was coming from her, but it wasn’t hers. It belonged to the hit man. She finally pulled back. She plucked at his shirt and touched his arm. She suddenly didn’t know where to look or what to do. “What...Why...What are you doing here?” “I came for you, Sophia. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Her lips trembled. “What? I thought...you didn’t call after you were arrested. And when I saw you the other day, you…” She stopped talking. He grabbed her shoulders. “I did that to protect you. It was all to protect you. When you told me someone was following you, I knew that you were in danger. I didn’t know who was behind it, so I stayed away, Sophia. I thought maybe if I stayed away they would leave you alone, but I was watching you. Always watching.” He stood, picking up his gun. “We don’t have time for this right now. There is always more than one. He’s either already here or outside trying to come in.” “What?” Sophia couldn’t think. She forced herself to focus. “What do we do?” “Get behind me,” he barked. She did. He walked methodically through her condo, checking every closet, bathroom, and room. It was empty. It had been rifled through, but it was empty. “Clear,” he finally said. “Now what do we do? Should we call the police?” “No,” Dmitri replied. “They can’t protect you.”

“What? Why?” Sophia said. “This is a much larger issue than the local police force could handle, and I’m not keen on dealing with law enforcement.” He carefully parted the blinds of her dining room window and surveyed the parking lot. “Get down. Stay away from the windows.” She dropped to her butt, crouching behind the kitchen island. “What do we do?” “We wait. They will be here soon.” He pulled a chair out from the table and sat down, facing the front door. It was the only entry to her second floor condo. “Dmitri,” she whispered. “I’m scared. What if there are ten men coming? And you are alone?” He shifted his weight in the chair, which made it squeak. “What makes you believe I am alone?” She didn’t answer. Instead, she raised from her crouch high enough to grab the handgun in its holster Dmitri had, once upon a time, left behind off her counter. She shoved the magazine in the bottom and pulled back the slide. Dmitri hadn’t turned his head or shifted his attention away from the door, but from her angle, she could see he was smiling. “You have many surprises, Sophia.” Steps on the stairwell ended their conversation. Dmitri noiselessly moved from his chair and into the shadows of the kitchen. Her front door creaked open and closed as a slim man walked inside. When he stepped forward and saw the body, he jerked his arms up like he was going to do something, but it was too late. Dmitri had already removed half of his head with a precise gunshot, and the slim man sank to the ground. “Now we go,” Dmitri said. The violence of it all shocked her. Her feet didn’t want to move, but then suddenly she couldn’t stand to be near the bloodied, dead men in her entryway.

She followed him wordlessly down the stairs in the dark. She slipped into the backseat of a dark car that Gram was driving. “Go,” he said. Gram didn’t say anything. He didn’t even look in the backseat or acknowledge her; he just drove. He drove around Loop 610 twice and then cut across downtown. He got on 59 South and drove to the suburbs, then turned around and went back into Houston and started driving down side street after side street. She was disoriented. She thought maybe they were on the far west side of town, but without any major roadways nearby, it was hard to tell. Finally, Gram stopped in front of a single-story ranch house. It was a lovely neighborhood with tall trees and nice houses. “No tail,” he said. “Good,” Dmitri said. “Come.” He held out his hand to Sophia. She followed him into the house. “What about the bodies in my apartment?” “Nobody will call the police for them. It will be cleaned up. Do not concern yourself with that right now.” He turned on the lights as he walked through the house. “Come, please.” He led her to the bathroom attached to a fancy master bedroom with a massive four poster bed. The bathroom itself was glorious with striking double black sinks, and a giant walk in shower with black tile and a colorful mosaic design on one wall. He wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her onto the counter. He stood in between her legs. Their sudden intimacy took her breath away. She craved his closeness, welcomed his touch. He stared at her face, gently tipping it from side to side, examining her. “Let’s get that filthy bastard’s blood off your face.” He didn’t break eye with her, but reached around her to grab some washcloths from the cabinet next to her. He leaned away to turn on the sink to wet them, then gently cleansed her face without breaking eye . The gesture was so tender and sweet and soft. “Where were you?” she whispered. “Were you arrested?” His green eyes searched hers. “Do you care?”

“Yes,” she said. “I care. I don’t want to, but I do.” He smiled. “I was held, but released. All of the EUCs that prick agent was parading around were perfectly legitimate.” “End Certificates,” she repeated. “Yes.” He said nothing more, but continued to gently clean her face, stopping occasionally to rinse out the washcloth. “You didn’t call,” she said. He paused again. “I explained.” She moved her eyes away. The intensity was getting to her. He was working on her temples now. “Did you want me to call?” he asked. “I did. And I didn’t,” she said. She swept her eyes to back to him. “Sophia.” He ran his fingers softly across her lips. “I can’t hear you tell me you don’t want me when I want you so bad.” She swallowed. “I didn’t say that. I’m scared. And confused. And I don’t know what this all means.” She dropped her head to her chest. “You have nothing to fear,” he said. “Oh, yeah? I had a gun shoved to my head an hour ago. There are two dead men in my apartment. How can you say that?” He cupped her face, gently forcing her eyes back up to his. “Because you were not harmed. I will never let anything happen to you.” Conflict raged in his eyes, then he crushed her lips with his, sliding his tongue into her mouth. He kissed her hard, his desire and need filling her up. She didn’t even hesitate because she missed him so bad. She scooted to the edge of the counter and wrapped her legs around him. He grunted and pushed his firmness into her, right against her now super sensitive core. She pulled his bloodstained shirt over his head, running her fingers down the

ridges of his abs. He grabbed her arms and put them over her head and then he pulled off her bra and shirt in one rapid motion. He slid his hands gently down her arms and then down the side of her rib cage. She dropped her still raised arms, looping them around his neck. He buried his face in her neck, nipping a trail down until he reached her breasts. She arched her back into him. He grunted again, primal, rough. He licked her nipples, flicking back and forth with his tongue. She panted under him, her need growing beyond her capacity to wait. She pushed him back and cupped his package through his jeans. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. She ran her hand up and down his length through his jeans. She opened the zipper and pulled his pants down. He stepped out of them and kicked them away, then pulled off her bloodied skirt and heels, throwing them behind him. He rapidly plunged inside her, deep and hard. “Oh, fuck!” she whimpered. She tilted her hips up, wanting more of his fullness inside her. “Do you want me?” he said. “I want you,” she whispered. Her words were like the kinetic spark he was searching for, because he was intense, all the way from his swift movements to his eyes. He fucked her hard, ramming his whole body into hers with every thrust. The full body drove her mad. He went fast, over and over. He gently cradled her neck with one hand and the other ran firm circles over her clit. He watched her excitement grow, his eyes demanding hers. “Come for me, Sophia,” he said.

When the pressure of his hand on her core and the fullness inside her became too much to hold onto anymore, she did. She screamed his name as she quivered hard around him. He gently squeezed her neck and came with her. He stilled inside her while quakes of intense pleasure ran through her body. Her ears rang, her toes tingled, and her vision swam. He gently pulled her off the counter so she was standing in front of him, kissing her intensely. He ran a strand of her now dark hair between his fingers. “This is so beautiful on you, Sophia. You’re so beautiful.” His hands were everywhere, smoothing her hair, caressing her back, squeezing her butt. He gently spun her around so she was facing the mirror. His hardness pushed into her back. “Watch, Sophia. I want you to come again.” He cupped her breast with one hand, rolling her taut nipple with his fingers. His other hand was down in her core, massaging just the right spot. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. She’d just had the biggest orgasm of her life, and she couldn’t imagine another one, but she already felt her insides clenching up. “Dmitri,” she whispered. She leaned back into him and looped her arm around the back of his head. She closed her eyes as the quivering built up in her. “Watch, Sophia,” he commanded. Hearing him say her name gave her a jolt of pleasure, adding the electricity moving between them. She opened her eyes. She watched him massage her breasts, saw his hands working her core, saw their exposed, blood spattered naked bodies pressed together. Saw the intensity in his eyes as he watched her in the mirror. She came again, so hard her knees gave out. He caught her, leaving one hand massaging her until all the waves of pleasure had ed. He swept her up in his arms. She laid against him limply, still recovering. He walked into the giant shower, set her gently down on her feet, and turned on the dual showerheads. The water ran over her hair and body, rinsing away the blood and tinting the water pink as it pooled on the bottom of the shower.

He kept her in his arms, only releasing her to shampoo her hair and gently rinse it out. When he was done with her hair, he used a plain white bar of soap directly on her skin, head to toe. “What about you?” she whispered, toying with his cock. “No,” he said. “All for you tonight.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his chest. “Why?” “I have trouble finding words to express my feelings of care and concern, so this is how I can tell you,” he said in Russian. His honesty surprised her, so she didn’t say anything, but hugged him tighter. Soon the water started to cool. They got out and Dmitri handed her a blue towel, so big it was more like a blanket. “Let us sleep now.” “Okay.” She understood he was asking her to spend the night Dmitri-style, and she was more than happy to acquiesce. The crawled into the large four-poster bed, naked and still a little wet. Dmitri pulled the comforter over them. She laid on his chest, legs entwined. “What’s going to happen now? What about those bodies?” “The bodies will be taken care of. Now, you must rest,” he said. She didn’t say anything, because the reality of the danger she was in hit her. He must have felt her tense, because he squeezed her tighter. “You are safe,” he said. “Rest,” he whispered. She didn’t think she would sleep after the rapid oscillation from violence and carnage to intense sex that had made up the last few hours, but between his steady heartbeat, the warmth of his body against hers, and the softness of the bed, she was lulled to sleep.

Chapter 19

Light filtered in through the soft white curtains. Sophia stared at them, watching the light grow brighter and brighter. She didn’t move or speak, just existed. Parts of her mind were numb, other parts...not so much. Heat coursed through her body as she thought of Dmitri. The way he’d looked at her, the way he’d touched her, the way he’d made love to her. She’d screwed him while they were both covered in blood, right after he had killed two people. And she had loved it. What’s wrong with me? The wrong felt so right, but she knew it was wrong. So wrong. Then she thought of the two men sent to take her life. She was glad when they’d died. She hadn’t felt any remorse, but she still shuddered as her mind’s eye recalled their cold, vacant eyes as they stared at nothing. She’d seen too many corpses, too much death, and too much blood. Dmitri had saved her life. Had she ever thanked him? She finally rolled over in bed, only to find it empty on the other side. She heard distant clinking and the openings and closings of drawers. He was somewhere in the house, or someone was. She sat up, using the satin sheet to cover her chest. The large room seemed to go on forever, easily twice the size of her master bedroom in her condo. The frame and posters on the bed were made of ornately carved, light-colored wood. A matching armoire and dresser were in the room, both intricately carved and solid. Overall, the decor was very masculine and imposing. Her eyes caught no trace of woman’s touch, and that made her feel good even though it shouldn’t have. She slid off the bed, still clutching the sheet to her chest. She didn’t have any clothes to change into. Hers were bloody and torn, and there was no way in hell she was putting those back on.

She hesitated, then dropped the sheet and approached the drawers. She pulled open the top one, feeling insanely guilty for being nosy. Of all the things she’d done, this gave her pause. She revered him, almost, and didn’t want to violate his privacy. But she was naked and cold. The drawer was filled with neatly folded undershirts, underwear, and men’s socks. The scent was very Dmitri. She pulled out one of the plain white undershirts and pulled it over her head. It went down mid-thigh on her. She ran her fingers through her hair and checked her face in the mirror. She walked through the partially open door, down a long hallway, following the clattering noises that could only come from a kitchen. She peeked out from the hallway. He was there, flipping eggs in a frying pan. His loose pajama bottoms slung low on his hips. His back was to her so she got the full view of his rounded, firm butt and the toned shape and scarred skin on his bare back. He looked so domestic and ordinary, like he was an ant or IT guy cooking eggs in the morning. She peeked around the corner a little more, confirming that he was alone. She spied a handgun resting on the counter too, and it shattered the ordinary feel of the moment. That illusion of normalcy didn’t last long. It never would because he was what he was. She finally stepped out of the hallway. He spun rapidly to face her even though she’d made no sound. She almost jumped at his rapid movement. “Uh, hi?” she said. He smiled, relaxing his arms. “I would advise you not to sneak up on me, but good morning.”

“Morning.” She stood in the same spot. Should she hug him? Shake his hand? Jump his bones? “Come.” He placed the spatula on the counter and held out his hands to her. She grabbed his hand. He pulled her close, first planting kisses on her hand then pulling her into a tight hug. He lingered there, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. She rested her head against him, enjoying the comfort. He kissed her forehead, then let her go and returned to cooking the eggs. “I am sorry you were alone when you woke up. It was my intention to bring you breakfast in bed.” “Oh, thank you,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind me wearing your shirt.” He smiled wide. “I don’t mind at all because I can see your body through that shirt, and I like it very much.” She glanced down. It was sheer, her nipples and breasts clearly visible, along with the narrow strip of pubic hair between her legs. “Sorry. I don’t have any underwear,” she said. “Or clothes.” “Don’t be sorry.” He flipped the eggs onto a nearby plate. “You better eat first and then I’m going to suck your tits through that shirt.” He plunked the plate down in front of her. Her mouth went dry. He was so damn hot she couldn’t help it. Her nipples hardened at the thought of his mouth on her. “Hurry up, Sophia. You need your energy for me.” He licked his lips and stared at her chest. She pulled the shirt down to cover her bottom and then sat down on one of the barstools. She slowly ate her eggs, forcing herself to focus on the food and not what she wanted him to do to her. He leaned against the kitchen counter, silent, eyes glued to her while she ate. When she was done, she put the fork on her plate and waited.

He approached her with noiseless footsteps and predatory eyes. By the time he was close, her body was tense in all the right places. He kissed her first, so tenderly, so sweetly, like they were on a first date instead of getting ready to fuck each other’s brains out. His kisses became more urgent and rough, and his hands kneaded her bare buttocks. True to his word, he moved his mouth to her chest, sucking her nipple though the fabric. The wetness of his mouth soaked through it, and she gasped. He moved to her other breast, sucking through the fabric while his other hand caressed her other breast. She arched her back into him, wrapping her legs around his waist. He tightened his hold on her and then lifted her off the bar stool. With her legs still wrapped around him, he moved her to the kitchen table, a long, oak monstrosity with a burgundy table runner. He swept the decorations and runner aside and then sat her gently on the table. “I’m done with this shirt now,” he said as he pulled it off her. She reached for him as he backed away. He untied his pajamas and they dropped to the floor, leaving his very hard and very impressive cock on display. She wrapped her hands around it and stroked him up and down. He groaned. “I need to be inside you. Now.” He placed his hands on either side of her shoulders as she lay flat on the table and then lowered himself on top of her, using his arms to keep his full weight off her. He entered her gently, filling her all the way. She gasped as he pulled out, leaving her empty again. “Damn it,” she gasped. “Fuck me.” Her lowered himself further, only propping himself up on his elbows. He kissed her as he moved gently back inside her. “I’m not fucking you. I’m making love to you,” he whispered in her ear. “Tell me that’s what you want.” She couldn’t make room for those words; she couldn’t process them, but wanted

whatever he was giving to her. “I want you. Make love to me,” she said softly. He did, guiding her towards her release with gentle strokes as his hands caressed her body, moving from shoulder to rib to breast. Kissing her. Feeling her. Watching her. They came together, one of those mind blowing ones that left her lightheaded and breathless. “Oh, God,” she whispered. He rolled off her, lying on his side, propped up on his elbow. He ran his finger around the circle of her lips, down her chin, the hollow of her neck, in between her breasts and then rested on her smooth stomach. “You are so beautiful, Sophia. The most beautiful thing in this world.” She rested her hands on top of his and smiled. “Thank you.” As the orgasm faded, other sensations crept in, like the not so comfortable surface of the table pushing into her back. “But this is not very comfortable.” He stood, helping her up, too. He pulled on his pajama bottoms while she retrieved her shirt and pulled it back on. He moved back to the kitchen. “Coffee?” he asked. He pulled the carafe out of the coffee maker and filled it with water from the sink. “Yes,” she said. “What time is it anyway?” He leaned back so he could see the built-in stainless steel microwave. “8:45,” he said. “Well, I’m late. Very late for EBCasp,” she said. “I need to call in.” He flipped on the coffee maker. “You do not need to call EBCasp. They will not bother you.” She ed in him in the kitchen, watching him open the cupboards and pull out two white coffee mugs. “But I don’t have my cell phone or wallet or anything. I need to go home and get my stuff.” She let out a breath of tense air. She’d almost forgotten about the two dead bodies. “And I need to make sure it’s clean. It’s on the market, and my realtor has access to it. What if he finds the bodies? Then what?”

Dmitri poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her. “It has been cleaned, and your realtor has not had access since the...events of last night.” He poured himself a cup and took a sip. “We will go over there today and get some of your things.” She hid her surprise behind a deep swig of coffee. Was he asking her to stay with him? Did she want to? She didn’t want to sleep in her condo again. Ever. She held back her questions and decided to just nod in response. “What is this place?” she pointed to the house around them. “Yours?” “Yes.” He didn’t elaborate, just drained his coffee. “Who were those men? Who sent them?” she asked in a small voice. His face darkened. “I do not know for certain yet, but I will soon.” She bit her lip. “Your men? Friends of your men?” He put his coffee on the counter and then faced her. “No. Unlikely.” “Why wouldn’t your men come after me?” “Because I pay them a lot of money. And you, some say, are a distraction, a danger to my operation.” He cupped her cheek. “They won’t get to you, don’t worry. They know better than to cross me, and if they don’t, they will soon learn.” The hairs on her arms stood. She’d heard the chill in his voice. What if she ever crossed him? Her fear and desire for him were all tangled up together. She cleared her throat and stepped away. She needed to get away from him to think clearly. “Then who?” “My enemies or yours.” She took a sip of coffee. “Do I have enemies?” “Red Bluff International? You are now aware of their dirt. They may not like

that,” he said. She slammed her coffee down. “Yeah, but they brought me to that meeting. It’s their own fault.” He looked away. His voice was tight when he spoke. “And that is how we met. Do you regret going?” “Do you regret pointing a gun at me?” she snapped. She tensed for an answer. The sickness of her immoral attraction all started there. They’d never addressed it. “More than anything in my life.” His voice cracked with a hoarseness she’d never heard from him before. It was sorrow. Deep sorrow that he’d scared her. “Please,” he reached for her, brushing his fingertip against the palm of her hand, “believe me. I had no idea they were bringing anyone else. It is my deepest, darkest regret, and I have so much I should regret, but nothing more than this.” She looked into his eyes, surprised that they were filled with emotion. There was so much there, so much that she shouldn’t see, that she shouldn’t feel. He was two people: the evil man that did terrible things and the gentle man that cared for her. But both were in the same body, they were the same person. She squeezed his fingers back, because she saw caring in his eyes. And she felt it back, damn it. She’d developed strong feelings for him, even the bad parts. Maybe because of them, like Andrea suggested. Maybe he was safe because he wasn’t safe to love. Maybe she was way more messed up than she’d ever realized. She let go of his hands and picked up her coffee. “I’ll find out when I go back to Red Bluff on Friday. We’ll see how they react.” “No,” Dmitri crossed his arms over his chest, “you will not go there again.” “Hey,” she pointed her coffee cup at him, “I don’t like being told what to do. I still work there.” “I don’t care if you like it or not. It is not safe. Fuck them and fuck that job. You

can work at EBCasp for as long as you like,” he said. He refilled her cup with coffee. “I’m not attempting to control you. I only want to protect you.” She walked away from him, slowly processing his words. She pulled down her shirt and sat on the stool very carefully—she was getting a little sore from all of their activities. “I don’t think they would try and have me killed,” she said. He walked up to the bar across from her and rested his hands on the counter. He waited until she looked him in the eye. “Then you don’t know them at all.” She sucked in her breath, not even trying to hide her fear. “Are you trying to scare me?” “Yes,” he answered. She took a sip of coffee, buying her a few seconds to formulate a response. He watched her, eyes flickering as he assessed her. He was eerily good at reading body language and facial expressions. In another life, he would have been an excellent interrogator or psychologist. “I don’t think they are going to drag me out of my office in broad daylight and kill me. I at least need to go back and get my things and make sure my istrative assistant gets out of there. I...care a great deal about her.” He sighed and looked away, his normally stoic demeanor falling further away from him. “It’s not worth the risk. But if you insist, I will have someone near you at all times.” “I don’t think that’s necessary,” she said. She slid off the stool and walked over to him. “I can’t have some big Russian guy following me around the office. I’ll be fine. If I get a bad feeling, I’ll leave.” He didn’t say anything, but when she got closer, he pulled her into a hug. “We’ll leave soon for your condo.” “All right,” she said. He stepped out of her embrace. “Would you care to me in the shower?” She laughed. “No, we’ll never leave.”

He cracked a tiny smile. “You are most likely correct.” And then he was gone, padding down the hallway to the bedroom. “Please, make yourself comfortable,” he tossed over his shoulder. She moved through the house, clutching her coffee mug. The kitchen opened to a wide living room with floor to ceiling garden windows, revealing a long and heavily landscaped front lawn. The other houses nearby were all different— some ranch houses like this one, a few Victorians, and even some super mod square metallic houses. It was definitely a nice neighborhood. She was pretty sure it was one of the houses in the heavily wooded well-heeled neighborhoods that ran along the bayou near the Energy Corridor. She walked down another hallway and found two smaller rooms. One was filled with heavy wooden built in book cases and a large black desk. It smelled faintly of cigar smoke. She ran her fingers over the titles on the shelves—mostly novels in Russian. She picked up the small paperweight on his desk. She was in his private space and it fascinated her. She stopped short of rifling through the drawers and checked out the other room, which appeared to be a guest room with a queen size bed and an attached bathroom. She made her way back to the master bedroom and sat on the bed, waiting for the reality of it all to hit her. Forty-five minutes later, she was in the back of another black car that Gram was driving. She was pretty sure it was a different car than last night. She caught Dmitri watching her, smiling in a very un-Dmitri kind of way. “Stop. I know I look ridiculous.” She was barefoot, clad in Dmitri’s very baggy sweatpants rolled to the knee and the white shirt she’d had on earlier. “I like you in my clothes,” Dmitri said simply. She blushed and pushed her hair out of her face. Her smile faded when they pulled into her condo. Dmitri was out of the car and a few steps away before he noticed she was not with him. He poked his head back in. “Are you waiting here?” “No, I’m nervous,” she said.

“I will keep you safe,” he said. He glanced at her front door and back to her. “It’s my home. It’s different now. It’s been invaded.” He held out his hand. “Come, you must face this.” He was right and she liked that he didn’t try to coddle her. He pushed her to do what needed to be done. She took his hand and they hustled quickly up the stairs. She didn’t want any of her neighbors to see her. She put her key in the lock and burst into the front door. It was clean and normal looking and smelled faintly of bleach. Her entry way tile looked spotless, better than it did before. Her kitchen had been cleaned, furniture righted, and broken items removed. Everything was perfect. “Wow,” she said. “It looks great. I could almost sleep here.” She walked down the hallway and into her room. Her drawers had been fixed and the bed had been neatly made. “Do you need help packing your things?” “No.” He said nothing as she slipped out of her sweat pants and shirt, replacing them with jeans and a tank top. She pulled two giant suitcases out of her closet and put them on her bed. She filled them with pajamas, jeans, tops, yoga pants, socks, and running shoes. Next, she pulled open her closet and made a formidable stack of hanging work clothes—skirts, blazers, blouses and slacks. She chose a simple pair of black pumps that went with everything. She went to her bathroom and gathered her makeup bag and toiletries. She was done in fifteen minutes. Dmitri closed her suitcases and zipped them, then made a phone call. Gram came in a few seconds later and disappeared with a suitcase in each hand. “Is this everything?” Dmitri said. “Anything else?” “There is nothing here for me,” she said. She picked up her shoes and a stack of clothes and walked out. Dmitri waited a few seconds and then walked out behind

her with the rest of her clothes.

Chapter 20

After another tour de Houston, lose-the-tail style, they were back at Dmitri’s house, or whatever it was. Sophia struggled with the right words to ask him if she was staying in his room or the guest room, when Gram walked in the front door with her suitcases. “Put them in my room,” Dmitri said. Sophia blushed, question answered, and followed Gram down the hallway with her own load of clothes. She put them on Dmitri’s bed. Dmitri came in. “There should be plenty of room in the closet for those, and I’ll clean out some drawers for you.” “Thank you,” she mumbled. She was putting her clothes in his drawers, her suits in his closet, her toothbrush in his bathroom. She was moving in. With him. Temporarily, she told herself. She hung her clothes in his closet and began putting her things away in the drawers he’d cleared out for her. Did she really just do this? Move in with him? Even temporarily? In his silent way, he left her alone to unpack. She appreciated it. She needed a moment to catch up with what the hell had just happened. Her phone rang from where she had it charging on the top of the dresser. She didn’t recognize the number. “Sophia, this is Reggie.” Her confused, overloaded brain took a moment to who he was. “Oh, hi,” she finally said. “Look, I started going through the documents along with my associates, and I wanted to touch base with you.” “Okay.” She paced over to the bed and sat down.

“It’s much worse than anything I could have imagined.” Her heart rate picked up. “Oh?” she said. “Hidden assets. Fake shell corporations. Tax fraud. Investor fraud. Shareholder fraud. Misreported earnings. FA violations left and right. This whole thing...it’s huge. Massive. And I’m just scratching the surface. I’m not even a quarter of the way through the box, and I’m sure there’s a ton more evidence out there.” “FA?” she echoed “Federal Corrupt Practices Act.” “That sounds serious,” she whispered. “You should report this. The whole company is a fraud, and I’m sure they are destroying evidence as we speak.” “Wait, what are you saying?” she said. “I’m saying this is going to be the biggest corporate fraud. Ever. It’s a complete house of cards. I can’t even imagine how many people’s lives they’ve destroyed.” She sighed. “I can’t believe this.” “Believe it. It’s the worst I’ve encountered in my career. This is going to make the mortgage backed securities scandal look like a children’s game. It’s bad. Really bad. We’re talking we’ll still be litigating this in twenty years bad.” “Shit,” she said. She plucked at the bedspread. She couldn’t deal with this right now. She didn’t have room for it. She’d been hunted like an animal, pushed out of her own home, and now this. “I have friends that have built their careers there. Hell, I have.” “Where are you right now?” he asked suddenly. “I am very concerned about your safety. There’s a lot of money flowing through this thing.” “I’m...I’m...” she clenched her fist, searching for the right words, “I’m at a

friend’s. I believe I am safe here.” “Call my guys. Call them right now. You need private security. And for God’s sake, don’t set foot in that building again.” “My...um...friend, thinks so, too. You really think they would do something to me?” she asked. “I don’t know. People do strange things for money and power, and if they know you know...I can’t tell you how important it is that you take this seriously.” “Okay,” she said. Her voice was hoarse, because she was scared. She was scared shitless because of those two dead men in her house and because of Reggie’s words and because she’d sought refuge with one of the most dangerous men in the world. “Okay,” she said again, more firm. “What do we do now?” “I’ll get through this and deploy some private investigators to fill in the gaps. Then, if you say go, we’ll report and announce. We have to, Sophia. When you’re ready.” “I understand,” she said “I just need a little more time.” She hung up the phone. What was going to happen to her? What would her life be like post whistleblower? What would happen to him? As if on cue, the “him” she had on her mind walked into the room. He saw her face. “Who was that?” he said. She took a deep breath, debating on the truth or lies. Over inaction or action. No doubt whistle blowing on Red Bluff International would involve him, too. It could possibly hurt and expose him. And she was a little scared of him. “Reginald Joshua,” she finally said. “The attorney?” he asked.

“How did you know?” she said. “I had people watching you, only to keep you safe. I know you took a box to his office and left two and half hours later,” Dmitri said. “I did.” She stared at the blanket on the bed, unwilling and unable to meet his eyes. “I took some documents from Red Bluff. Apparently, they are violating about every law known to man and engaging in some really bad shit.” She chucked her phone down and stared at him. “This is bad for you too, isn’t it?” He hadn’t moved, hadn’t twitched, and hadn’t said anything. “Yes. It could be bad, but now that I know, I can take remedial measures to protect myself. And you,” he said. “And me?” she said. “I thought…” “You thought I would be mad? Were you afraid?” She dropped her head into her hands. “Yes,” she whispered. He scooted closer to her and draped his arm over her shoulders. He put his lips very close to her ear. “You do not ever have to fear me, Sophia. I would never hurt you. Hear me now, because I can never say this again: I will protect you, even if it is bad for me.” He leaned back. She glanced up at him, tears in her eyes. “I believe you.” “Good.” He straightened up. “I am glad you told me the truth.” He stood from the bed. “I trust you and no one else in this life.” He turned red, then turned on his heel and practically ran from the room. “Dmitri!” she shouted after him. He came back in the room, waiting for her to speak. “What are you going to do?” she said. “What I must.” His face was dark, and he left. She let it sit and simmer within her. She was in a royal hot mess, much of it her

own doing. She moved back to the drawers and started pulling her stuff out. She was here because she wanted to be, yes, but she was also here because she was scared. She didn’t have anywhere to go. She wouldn’t put Andrea in danger by running to her. She was most definitely not moving in. Temporary, she told herself. Very temporary. She put her clothes back in the suitcases and dragged them to the closet. She needed to be able to leave fast. She sat on the floor of the large walk in closet, filled with suits and dress shoes, most of them looked very expensive, the kind she saw hedge fund and venture capitalist guys wear. She was in danger, and she brought it with her. She was, for once, thankful for her parents distance. They were safe, nearly always traveling, never home. But Andrea. Andrea could be in danger. What if whoever knew about Sophia having the box knew about her having seeing documents, too? She called her. “Andrea?” “Hey, chick. What’s up?” “Um...” Sophia didn’t know where to start. “I gave the stuff to Reginald.” “Okay,” Andrea said. “And I’m sensing there’s more?” “And he thinks I’m in danger. And I’m sure I am, so I’m hiding out. I wanted you to know so you could keep your distance and stay safe,” she said. She heard a sharp intake of breath on the other line. “What do you mean, you’re sure? What’s happened? Are you okay?” Sophia sighed. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me. It’s…better if you know less from here on out. It’s bad. Much worse than we thought. If anyone finds out you know something, you could be in danger, too.” “Oh, wow,” Andrea breathed over the line. “Can I see you? What should I do?”

Sophia folded her legs under her. “You can’t see me right now. Please, Andrea. Be careful until I figure out what’s going on. I’m going to hire some security that Reggie recommends, for both of us.” “What? No, you don’t need to do that,” Andrea said. “I can take care of myself.” “No, this is my fault. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this, and I’m sorry. It’s been about me, all about me and my shit. I’ve been a terrible friend and I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Sophia dug her toes into the plush carpet, but she didn’t cry. She was done with crying. “I’ll make this right,” she added. “Sophia, I—” Andrea broke off, and a long silence stretched. Finally, she spoke again. “This sounds so final. I don’t like this. You’ve been through a lot and you’ve taken care of me in the past, and it’s my honor to be there for you. You’re not a burden, and you don’t need to be sorry. It’s not your fault that Red Bluff International is a scary, nasty piece of shit.” Sophia chewed on her lower lip. “Please let me do this for you.” “Okay, fine,” Andrea said. “But as soon as we can meet safely, I need to see your face. I won’t be able to rest until I do.” “Okay. I understand.” Sophia nodded, even though Andrea couldn’t see her. “If...um...something happens to me or I disappear, I love you.” “Don’t say that to me. Don’t you dare say that!” Andrea said. Her voice had risen to a more hysterical tone. “Why are you talking like this?” “Go to Reggie, okay? Just in case.” “I don’t like this at all. Not at all,” Andrea barked over the phone. “Please. I’m fine. Okay? Everything is fine.” They said their goodbyes and hung up. Sophia felt like a giant piece of shit loser friend for what she’d done. How selfish she’d been to the only person in the world who probably actually cared for her. She spent the next few hours hiring the security company that Reggie recommended, not for her, but for Andrea. It would be around the clock and

expensive, but Sophia would drain every last dollar she had to protect Andrea. She ate Chinese takeout with Dmitri for dinner and they made love in his bed. If he noticed her still-packed suitcases, he didn’t say anything.

Chapter 21

Sophia had been back at EBCasp for a couple of weeks, going through the ridiculous motions of working, but she’d needed something to do. She never went back to Red Bluff International, and shockingly, nobody said anything. She’d called Marsha to tell her she wouldn’t come back on Fridays anymore. She pleaded with the young woman to look for work, and it sounded like Andrea had lined up a few interviews for her, too. She’d just hung up with her realtor who’d called her to tell her of multiple showings today. He thought they’d get an offer soon. She finished the paperwork on the latest hire and stared out the window, watching the very few people on the streets. Most of the downtown workers in Houston used the underground tunnels to move about during the day, a welcome break from the heat and humidity above ground. She had two, third round interviews with Red Bluff’s major competitors this week. If all went well, she’d get job offers herself. But could she take them? What would happen when Red Bluff International’s news broke? Could she ever leave Dmitri’s house? Would she ever be safe again? She knew in her heart the answer was probably no. Not here. Not in Houston, the only home she knew. Nevertheless, she decided to go to the interviews this week and keep her options open. Her business phone chirped. “This is Sophia,” she said politely. “Lyubov moya,” Dmitri said. He’d taken to calling her ‘his love’. She shifted in her chair. They’d fallen into a routine over the past couple of weeks. Having dinner together most nights, making love, almost like a normal couple living together. Except they weren’t. There were late night phone calls, tense faces, strange men in and out of house, and sudden overnight business trips. There were crates stored in his garage one day and removed the next. There was an endless cycle

of cell phones in his hand—he usually didn’t keep one for longer than a day or two. And she had a feeling that he would have to leave soon. “Hi,” she said. She warmed up, melting again. He did that to her. Made her feel soft and warm. Made her to want to forget it all. “You were followed this morning when you went to get coffee in the tunnels. Did you know that?” She grew cold. “No.” “He had rope.” She covered her eyes. “What? Jeez...what the…oh, my God.” She processed that piece of information slowly. Rope to tie her up, take her, and maybe even choke her in a dark hallway. “Do not worry. He no longer poses a threat,” he said. “Did he talk first?” she asked. She was a bit shocked at her own coldness. Dmitri seemed like he was too, because he chuckled softly. “You are thinking differently now, and this is good,” he said. “No, he didn’t talk. He was well trained in...resisting.” “Damn it. I want this to end. We can’t go on like this forever. You can’t always be there to protect me from my assassins,” she said. Another long pause. “Perhaps I can.” She rubbed her temples. She had no idea what to say, so she said nothing. He spoke again, back to his cool, crisp self. “Have you heard from the lawyer?” “Yeah.” She found a paperclip to fiddle with. “He’s waiting on a couple of investigators to get back from Liberia and South America, then he’ll be ready to move forward with bringing them down.” “I see,” Dmitri said coolly. “Are you ready?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.” She sighed. This time he was silent. “Look, I should get back to work. I’ll see you later,” she said. “Yes, you will, my love.” The phone line went dead. “All right,” she said to herself, returning to the mound of paperwork she had to get through. After she was done, she called Gram before shutting down her computer and flicking off her office light. She walked down the long hallways, tossing casual waves to the few people still left on her floor. Gram was waiting in the parking garage in a bright blue car. She was getting used to the cars he drove changing every few days. She had no idea where they came from, and at this point, she didn’t care. She slid into the front seat. She didn’t bother talking to Gram, who was imive and quiet. He had long, dark hair and grey eyes that avoided hers. They sat in bumper to bumper traffic in downtown rush hour gridlock. She leaned against the window and stared into the rear view mirror. She missed her autonomy. She missed her car. She even missed her condo. Her old life had been boring and sad, but at least she’d been safe. Miserable, but safe. It took them forty-five minutes to get back to the house. Gram dropped her off in the driveway, then sped off. “Nice to see you, too,” Sophia muttered as she watched him drive away. The house was darkened and quiet when she came in, oddly so. She dropped her purse on the hook near the front door and then walked to the kitchen. Dmitri was there, leaned against the kitchen counter, smoldering hot in slim-fit black slacks and a black button-down shirt.

He gestured behind him, so she looked. The dining room table held a feast with wine bottles and several trays of food. Five long, red tapered candles ran the length of the table. “Is that Kalduny?” she said. She leaned over the stuffed dumplings and breathed in the delicious scent. “Oh, my God. That smells so good. Coulibiac, too?” She ired the fish loaf, looking mouthwatering on the plain wood serving dish. “Where did you get this?” He pushed away from the counter. “I cooked it.” “Oh, wow. Thank you.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her close, smashing his body against her. “You are okay, then?” She smiled against his chest. “I am now.” “Really?” He leaned back, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I hope so.” He stepped away and pulled out a chair for her. She sat down and ired the pretty floral patterned china. He sat down, and they loaded up their plates. She dug into the food, relishing the flavors. She hadn’t had good Russian food, since, well, she was in Russia for grad school. Houston was sadly low on Russian restaurants. After being silent for most of dinner, he suddenly spoke, “I have to leave town.” She set her fork down. “Forever or temporarily?” He smiled. “Not forever. Not without you. Business.” “All right,” she said. “When will you be back?” She picked up her fork and took another bite, trying to keep her inquiry as casual as possible. “A few days, maybe longer. I will leave in the morning.” She didn’t answer, just continued eating her food, but inside she was upset. She was afraid. Afraid of his absence more than his presence. She was hurt, on some

level, that she couldn’t go with him. She was confused as to how her life was going to play out. If what he said was true, he was the only thing keeping her alive. He put down his fork, scooted his chair closer to her, and rested his hand on hers. “I will leave you in good hands. I have Gram and two other men watching you, too.” “Okay, thank you.” She shook her head. “You know, you don’t have to do this. I’m not your responsibility. I can hire my own security.” “I know you can, but I would prefer that you not,” he said. “I will take care of you.” “I don’t know about this.” She pulled her hand away. “I can’t keep doing this, working a pretend job, living with you, and always having to watch my back. I’ve forced you into this, and I’m not sure I even wanted that.” His face clouded over and he pulled his hand back. He was tight from his jaw line and neck to his shoulders. Tension filled the room. “If you do not want me, that is your decision. But there is no need to turn down my protection until I uncover and eliminate the threat,” he said. “Fuck, Dmitri. I don’t know what I want.” She shoved her napkin on the table and pushed her chair away. “We were forced into this—whatever this is!” She shoved away from the table and paced into the kitchen. “It’s like I’m your pretend girlfriend or something. We’re playing house and pretending that we can do this, when we can’t. I’m a target, and you’re...you’re you.” He stayed at the table, wisely giving her space. “It was not pretend for me,” he said, his voice cold. She turned to him. “I’m sorry. That was ungrateful of me. And I have never thanked you for everything you have done. So let me do it now: thank you. Thank you for saving my life. Thank you for protecting me. Thank you for fucking up your life for my fucked up life.” He didn’t say anything. He was motionless, hurt carving a firm line on his

mouth. His eyes would not meet hers. He stood slowly, and she felt a little wave of fear. But he simply walked away, down the long hallway, and into their bedroom. His Bedroom. He slammed the door behind him. She burst into tears and ran away. She ran down the long hallway into the spare bedroom. She closed the door and buried her face in the pillow on the bed. She cried until her face was swollen and her head was pounding. Her life had become surreal and strange, but Dmitri had been the only real thing in it, as messed up as he was. She’d never understand how he could be so good to her, but so horrible to others. She wasn’t stupid. She’d done research on him. Found he’d been suspected of supplying weapons for a bloody civil war in central Africa. Found pictures of the women and children that had been slaughtered with his weapons. The same man also took care of her. Kept her alive. Risked his own neck for hers. Made love to her. Gave her a home. But they were the same man. Tell that to her heart. Tell that to her soul. Tell that to the flicker of happiness in her soul that she thought was gone forever. She burned for him, obsessed over him, felt things for him she’d never felt before. And she didn’t even know why. She just did. She wiped off her face and stumbled into the bathroom. She used cool water to wash her face and rinse out her mouth. She was out the door and running down the hallway before she could completely think it through. All she knew for sure was that she needed him, wanted him, cared for him. She ran into his room, where he was laying in bed, asleep, his back to her. As she approached, he flipped over in the dark. “Sophia?” he said hoarsely. She glanced at his bedside alarm clock. It was two o’clock in the morning. She didn’t realize it had been so late. She rushed to him, crouching in front of the bed so they were eye level. “I wasn’t pretending either,” she whispered.

He reached out his hand and gently caressed her face. “Get in here.” He pulled back the sheets and gestured for her to climb in. She did, quickly shedding her clothes down to her panties and bra before she climbed in. As soon as she did, he was on top of her, his lips on hers, their skin ing from toe to chest. “Make love to me, Dmitri. I’m yours,” she whispered. And he did. Gently sliding into her, holding her close, running his hands down her body: her breasts, her stomach, her back. He rolled them over so she was on top. He liked to watch her. She sighed as they moved together in an even, natural rhythm. She floated on air as his eyes met hers as she rode him gently in the dark, his hand rested on her hips as he guided her movements. It wasn’t frantic or rough. It was perfect. It was different. It was sweet. It meant something. They meant something. They came together, clinging to each other in the dark.

Chapter 22

He was gone the next morning, but she’d expected that. She’d gotten up, gone to work, and carried on with her life. Then she’d gotten up the next day and did it all over again. She missed him. Missed Andrea. Missed a lot of things. Mainly, she missed being safe. Over the weekend he’d called Gram’s phone and she’d gotten a chance to talk to him. He sounded like he was at an airport. He’d called her ‘his love’ and told her he’d be home soon, like she was his home. Conflict raged within her, but she pushed it all down and just focused on getting through each day. Her cell phone rang, and she knew who it was when the number splashed across her screen: Reggie. “Hi, Reggie,” she answered her phone. “Hi. How are you hanging in there? Any problems?” he said in his pleasant way. “I’m fine. I have security,” she said. It was a bit of a fib, but whatever. “Good. I’m all ready here. You need to come down to my office so we can go over everything, then you can decide if you want to blow the whistle. There’s a lot to cover.” “Okay,” she sighed, “I can’t now, but soon. Is there anything you are required to disclose, legally speaking?” “Well, no. You are my client, so I don’t need to act to prevent you from hurting someone or carrying out a criminal act, but...” “But what?” she said. She was doodling furiously on her notepad. “But I think you should do this, even though it will be hard. Once the feds are involved, they can help you stay safe and move on. Trust me on this. I think it will be better when it’s out in the open. Then no one can hold it over your head.” “I understand,” she whispered.

“I know you do, and we’ll go over everything, including the ramifications of disclosing versus not. And Sophia, I’m sorry this happened to you.” They hung up and she was left alone to ponder his last statement: I’m sorry this happened to you. She’d heard it a million times before. After Josh and Landon died, it was a common refrain. How terrible it was that something “bad” had happened to her. The worst. And they were right—it was the worst thing that could’ve happened. To hear it in this context jarred her to her bones. Because this mess with Red Bluff didn’t ‘happen’ to her. She’d ignored the rumors at work. She’d gone digging for the information and found it, way too easily, which meant it was in front of her face the entire time. She’d started a relationship with the bad man, probably way worse than any corrupt oil executive. She’d have to decide what kind of person she was, and soon. Her work phone rang, pulling her out of her dark thoughts. She snapped it up without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?” “Sophia, it’s Marsha.” Sophia stood up. Marsha’s voice sounded like she’d been crying. “Are you okay?” “Um...yes,” she said. Her voice was wobbly. In her few years at Red Bluff International, Sophia had never seen or heard of her crying at work. She was too professional. “I’m...um...fine.” Warning bells rang in Sophia’s head. Marsha never spoke like this. Never paused. Never said “um.” She was precise in her speech, precise in her emails, precise with everything. That’s why Sophia had hired her. “What’s going on?” she said as calmly as she could. “I really need to talk to you. Could you...um...come here?”

“Oh, I…” She glanced around her office, trying to figure out the logistics of ditching Gram. “Can we meet for coffee or something? Leaving now would be tough.” “Please,” Marsha said, her voice cracking. “Okay. Sure. Give me about half an hour.” They disconnected. Sophia stared at her phone, carrying an odd feeling that something was off. But she’d have to risk it. Marsha needed her help. She didn’t know where Dmitri’s men were, but she had a feeling that if she called Gram to get a ride to Red Bluff International, she would go nowhere. Hell, she really didn’t want to go, but she wasn’t worried about going there in broad daylight in the middle of a business day. She was more worried about getting herself there. As if on cue, a yellow cab drove by her window. Bingo. She called a local cab company and instructed them to meet her outside ASAP. She tucked her cell phone into her purse and took the elevator to the lobby. She walked through without tossing a glance around. Straight through the big glass doors and she was outside with a cab waiting. Perfect. She slid in, sure Gram or somebody else was watching, and that was fine. She just needed to get there and make sure Marsha was okay. The cab made its way down Memorial Drive, the quickest and probably most expensive way to get to the Energy Corridor. She checked her phone on the way in—no messages or emails. Poor Marsha. She wondered what they had done to upset her. Perhaps they gave her notice to leave, or questioned her about Sophia’s absence. She should have explained herself before refusing to come back. She should have behaved in a more professional manner. She shouldn’t have left Marsha to clean up her mess. Damn it.

She was so lost in her dark thoughts, she was surprised to find they’d pulled in front of the Red Bluff campus. “Drop me off here.” She pointed towards the parking garage nearest her building. She pulled a wad of cash from her wallet and handed it to the cab driver, not really paying attention to how much she handed him. He thanked her profusely as she slid out of the cab. By the time she crossed the nearly empty parking garage, she was nervous again. She hadn’t been here in a few weeks, since those men had come for her at her home. She didn’t know for sure if they were from Red Bluff International or one of Dmitri’s men, or one of his enemies. Or someone else. She crossed the breezeway into the building, her deep sense of foreboding growing as she entered her old workplace. All her anger and rage at what they’d done built up. Her dread turned dark, and she was pissed. Ready to blow up at anyone that messed with Marsha. She found her old badge in her purse and swiped it to get access to her floor. It surprisingly worked. It was after five and almost deserted. Finally, she slipped back to her office, where Marsha sat at her desk right outside Sophia’s closed door. She was relieved to see her, though she looked miserable. Her auburn hair was in a loose ponytail, unlike her normal neatly styled self. Her face was swollen and red, like she had a cold. “Hi!” She walked around the desk to give Marsha a hug. Marsha was limp in her arms. “What’s going on?” Sophia asked. “Where...where have you been?” Marsha said. “My secondment, you know—” “But what about this?” Marsha asked. “You left me alone to deal with them.”

“I’m sorry. Do you want to come into my office and we can talk?” Marsha’s face crumpled. “No, I do not,” she glanced around the open area, “not here.” “Okay, but I don’t see anyone around.” Sophia straightened her posture and slung her purse over her shoulder. “Shall we go out for coffee or something?” “No, I can’t. Come with me.” Marsha stood. Sophia followed her to the elevator bank. Marsha swiped her card with a shaky pale hand. She wordlessly went into the elevator. Sophia sighed and stepped inside. “Where are we going?” “To somewhere we won’t be overheard.” She hit the button for the fifteenth floor. “Fine.” Sophia leaned against the elevator with her arms crossed. She looked down at her sensible black pumps. Always so sensible. Always walking the straight and narrow, until now. The ding of elevator brought her head up. The door slid open to reveal a very angry Ana Relder. Waiting.

Chapter 23

Sophia’s heart dropped. She glanced to a shaky Marsha cowering in the elevator. Set up. This is a set up. “She arrives!” Ana threw her hands up. “And graces us with her presence.” She dropped her arms. “Marsha, you may go.” Marsha nodded. “I’m so sorry, Sophia. She told me if I didn’t—” “It’s fine, Marsha,” Sophia cut her off. “It’s okay, really. Just go.” The elevator door shut, leaving Sophia alone with Ana in the hallway. “What do you want, Ana?” Sophia said. “We have much to discuss, Sophia,” Ana said. “Go ahead,” Sophia said. She crossed her arms over her chest Ana rolled her eyes. “You stupid, over-confident bitch.” Three men stepped out from a nearby room. All with guns. All menacing. Sophia sprinted away from them towards the staircase, but one of them caught her, grabbed her arm, and slammed her against the wall so hard she saw stars. She kicked and struggled with all her considerable strength, screaming at the top her lungs. The man used a black gloved hand to cover her mouth, cutting off her scream and nearly cutting off her oxygen. No. This couldn’t happen. Not in a crowded office building. But it was after five, most people would be leaving. No one would be coming up to this floor. No. She kicked and screamed with renewed vigor, but the man just dragged her, pulling her hair, and whatever else he could grab onto to force her compliance. Down the hallways, through a doorway, and down another hallway and into a conference room. She’d never been in this part of the executive floor. He slammed her down on the ground, and pain ripped through her body. She

opened her mouth to scream, to cry, to fight. He shoved a rag into her mouth so far she almost gagged. He clapped his gloved hand over her mouth. “Shut the fuck up!” he said. She couldn’t answer; she retched against the dirty cloth, but he held it firmly over her mouth. Ana Relder calmly walked in, followed by two more men. Dirty, dangerous, gross, deadly men. Ana calmly shut the door behind her. “If you want the slightest sliver of a chance of walking out of here alive, you will listen very carefully to me.” She strode over to the table, pulled one of the heavy leather rolling chairs out, and sat down. She crossed her nylon clad legs, flashing the violet sole of her expensive shoes. “I know you stole documents. I know you know some things you shouldn’t know.” Sophia didn’t say anything, because she couldn’t. Her heart was beating fast and unsteady. Fear poured over her like a cold blanket, but it didn’t overtake her. Someone had to have seen her come in the building. Cameras or something. Someone would know. She couldn’t just disappear in here. The man pushed her to a seated position and pulled the gag out of her mouth. She retched her lunch onto the floor right in front of her. She tried to get away, but he pulled rope out of his back pocket and tied her hands together, so tight she could feel her pulse straining against them. The two other men were imive against the door. Both held guns with long silencers. They didn’t intend to let her live. They were going to pump her for information, then kill her. Stall. I need to stall. Surely Gram followed her here. Maybe Marsha would call for help. Maybe the security guard would notice something. Maybe all was not lost. “What did you do with the information?” Ana asked. “Your very life depends on it.” Sophia was silent. She let the silence linger, the air conditioner humming in the

background the only noise. Her heart pounded loud in her ears and her shoulders ached at the tight restrains. She felt it all, relishing these last few moments, clinging onto hope that maybe they weren’t. “Answer me!” Ana yelled. Her composure dropped. “Do something!” she yelled to the man standing next her. His foot shot out, catching her in the soft flesh of her stomach. Pain blossomed and she doubled over, struggling to get air back in her lungs. Oh, man. That was hard and precise. He was probably trained in martial arts. She coughed, the panic subsiding as she found oxygen. “Answer, Sophia. You can walk out of here, or you can go out in a trash bag. Your choice. Talk.” “Someone will know I came here. My badge recorded me coming. Someone will know if you do this,” she croaked. “Nope, not really. It will be deleted from the system, and strangely enough, half of our security cameras are down.” She looked at her fingernails. “It’s a shame, really.” Sophia coughed, purposefully. It gave her a few more seconds of time. “What do you want to know?” she finally said. “I want to know where the documents are, who you told. Then you can leave.” Sophia lowered her chin, staring Ana in the eyes. “You aren’t going to let me live.” Ana smiled. “You never know.” Sophia stood, on wobbly feet, still unable to stand fully with the horrible pain radiating from her stomach. “It’s too late. I’ve already handed it over to the authorities. It will be made public. Kill me or not, it will be made public. Kill me now, it will probably be made public faster. Your choice.” Ana’s mouth dropped open. “You wouldn’t.”

“I already did and fuck you. I hope you enjoy life in prison.” Ana lunged for her, clawing at her face in a fit of absolute rage. Sophia fought back with a headbutt to Ana’s nose. Ana lunged to her feet, losing her balance with one heel off, one heel on. A thin trail of blood ran from her nose, pooling above her lip. “You fucking cunt!” she screamed. “Kill her! I said fucking kill her!” The man closest to her smiled and raised his gun. But then he and Ana were on the ground, and the other two men were in a struggle The room was suddenly full of people, and she didn’t understand. Her vision swam as she saw the confusion. She leaned against the wall for . Pain had made her useless. It dawned on her in some vague way that she could possibly have internal bleeding or something. “Sophia!” One face swam into focus—Dmitri—eyes full of concern, hair wild. “Are you okay?” “I’m hurt.” She gasped for air. “Ana, she tried to kill me. How did you...” “I discovered it was her who hired those hit men. There are not many who can pay for men like that, and I knew who their broker was. With the right amount of money, he talked.” “Oh, my God.” Tears spilled from her eyes. “I rushed back. Gram had followed you here and called me as I was on my way home from the airport. Marsha told us you were up here.” “Sir?” Gram interrupted them. “What are we doing with her?” Sophia blinked rapidly, bringing the whole room back into focus. The gunmen that had taken her from the hallway were dead, with neat round bullet-holes in their foreheads oozing blood. Three of Dmitri’s men plus Gram were there, awaiting orders, one of them holding a very alive Ana. Ana clutched at her right shoulder with her left hand, blood running through her fingers. One of Dmitri’s

men had his hand over her mouth. Her eyes were visible above his hand, wild and fearful, darting around. Her breath whistled through his gloved hand. Dmitri stood and moved away from Sophia. He pointed his gun at Ana’s head, about five inches in front of her eyes. She struggled wildly, her muted screams indiscernible from the hand that covered her mouth. “You are going to die, now,” he said. He pulled the trigger, and the high pitched whir of the silencer rang out. She slumped forward, blood trickling from her now missing eye. He shot her twice more in the top of her head.

Chapter 24

Ana was dead, her red blood spilling everywhere. Sophia closed her eyes and leaned her head back to rest on the wall behind her, unable to look at it anymore. Even with her eyes closed, she could see nothing else. So many bodies, so many deaths. How much death could she take and still be alive? Macabre, self-tortuous images flashed in her mind. Josh’s vacant eyes, the unnatural bend to his neck. The realization that he was gone. She’d crawled out of the car, screaming for Landon, seeing only the crumpled, still, small body, wearing the white and blue plaid shirt she’d picked out for him that morning on the pavement. She’d army crawled towards him, the skin of her arms ripping on the glass shattered on the pavement, unable to walk on her broken legs. She’s fought the paramedics as they loaded her into the ambulance. Screamed for Landon and Josh. She’d screamed and she’d cried and she shattered inside, but they both were still dead. She saw the same vacant eyes in the dead men in her apartment, and now Ana, as she crumpled to the floor. It was death and violence and gore and she couldn’t handle it. She broke apart a little more on the inside. She couldn’t cry, couldn’t think. She might be alive with a pulse, but she was as dead as Ana on the inside. Dead and sick of pretending that she wasn’t. She finally opened her eyes, ing that she was alive. That she had been rescued. That she would be okay. Dmitri was crouched in front of her, watching her carefully as always. His eyes flicked down to her stomach and back up to her. “You are injured, but you are safe, now.” “Thank you,” she whispered, meeting his eyes.

Gram spoke from behind Dmitri. “Sir? We have to go. Police scanners are requesting multiple dispatches to this address.” Oh, God. “Sophia, listen to me.” Dmitri held her chin gently. She looked into his haunted green eyes. “I want you to come with me.” She stopped breathing, her heart stopped, everything stopped. “What?” He moved his hand down her face. “If you come with me, we can never come back. You can never talk to your friends or family again. You won’t even be able to use your name ever again, but we will have each other.” She cleared her throat. “I need to think about this, Dmitri. I—” He exhaled a long, loud breath. “There is no time. I have to leave the country now, and I cannot come back. I can never come back. You have to decide now.” “Oh, no,” she whispered. “I can’t do this right now.” Gram shouted from behind him, “We don’t have time for this! Damn it!” He put his hand on Dmitri’s shoulder and tried to pull him up. Dmitri never broke her gaze. “Will you come, Sophia? My beautiful, Sophia? Be with me?” Her mind whirled. Her heart and soul twisted together and battled with her brain. He made her happy. He kept her safe. She cared for him, goddamn it. And she loved him even though she shouldn’t. But he was bad. The worse kind of human, one that profited from death and destruction, and she couldn’t do it anymore, she couldn’t be a part of it in any way. She was tired of death, and he was a dealer of death. It was too much and she was broken inside. He couldn’t fix her. Nothing could. “No,” she whispered, even though it ripped her chest open to say it. She couldn’t speak further, because she was sobbing hard. Her cries wracked her whole body in violent shudders. Her grief spilled out of her.

“Oh, fuck, Sophia. No,” he whimpered. He covered his mouth with his hand. His eyes were wet as he took in her words, and it shocked her. He was crying, too. Then he recovered, putting on his cool mask and blinking away the tears. “Then this is where we shall part ways. I will leave you tied to avoid raising suspicion.” He was all business again, and it hurt. He stood from his crouch, rising like a beautiful dark phoenix in front of her. His face softened again as he watched her with perfect, green eyes. “I love you,” he said, his voice cracking again. Oh. God. Her heart swelled. Had she imagined it? Did he say that? She lifted her head to answer, but only caught his back as he sprinted out of the door. Gram and the others had already left. She was alone. Alone to wonder if he’d be caught. Alone to wonder what would happen to him for doing what he did for her. He left her alone in this room with death and gore. She closed her eyes as the pain from her injury radiated through her, though it was no match for her shattered, broken heart. She danced on the verge of consciousness and sleep. She felt his absence in her very soul. It opened up that big black hole inside, and made it worse. Worse than it had ever been. She realized what she’d done. That he was gone, forever. She wasn’t ready for the finality of it. Wasn’t ready to let him go. Wasn’t prepared to never see him again. She screamed his name, but it was too late. She struggled to her feet, but only made it a few feet before her still bound hands and clumsy feet caused her to tumble to the ground. Blue clad police officers poured through the door, followed by paramedics. They ran to her and filled her head with questions that she couldn’t answer. What was her name? What was she doing here? Was she injured? Did her neck hurt? Did those dead men try to kill her? Who tied her up?

She finally surrendered to the blackness; let herself fall into the hole. She heard one of the paramedics shout that she was losing consciousness and her blood pressure was dropping. She heard beeps and felt pressure on her arm and then slipped all the way in to the merciful darkness.

Chapter 25

“How are you feeling?” Reggie asked her. “I’m okay,” she said simply. She shifted in her seat, the small scar on her stomach still sore. She’d had internal bleeding and had to have an emergency surgery to stop it. That’d been six weeks ago, and she could finally move and drive and shower again. “Long day,” he threw his pen on his desk, “but we have everything we need now.” “Good.” She smiled. She’d written affidavits and had her sworn testimony taken by investigators. She’d spent ten plus hours in his office with a team of his attorneys and federal prosecutors every day for the past five days getting everything done. Now, they were finally alone in his office. Tomorrow was the big day, the day it would be announced in public and to the shareholders that Red Bluff International was under investigation by several government agencies. Tomorrow Reggie would come forward with her identity and her information. It would all be public. They were going down. Hard. “I’m very thankful to you,” she said. He leaned back in his chair. “Don’t be. You’ve paid me a shit-load of money.” She laughed. “I have, but you’ve earned it. They call you the best in the business for a reason.” Her smile slipped. “Especially right after. That was a big deal for me. Thank you.” He nodded, and she could tell how exhausted he was—there were shadows under his eyes and more grey in his hair than had been there a month ago. He’d been by her side as she was questioned after being found injured and tied up at Red Bluff International. The investigators had shown up at the hospital. They’d pushed and pushed for information.

She’d told them nothing. Said she didn’t . But she did. She ed Dmitri. What he’d offered. What she’d refused. That he said he loved her. She ed the death and the blood that seemed to follow her now. The investigators didn’t believe her amnesia, of course, but eventually left her alone after Reggie made all communications go through him. “Where are you going? Are you planning on coming back?” he asked her. She shrugged. “My parents are in St. Thomas for the season. Maybe I’ll them there. Anywhere but here.” It was a lie, but that was what she did these days. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” he said. He stood slowly from his chair. “I’ll walk you out.” “Thank you.” She grabbed her red leather purse and followed him out into the lobby. He kept walking with her out the office entry and to the elevator bank. “You know,” he rested his hand on her shoulder, forcing her to look at him, “I don’t mean to be patronizing, but you can’t outrun your problems. They’ll follow you wherever you go.” She patted his hand. “You’re never patronizing, and that is good advice.” She smiled. “Maybe a change of scenery will do the trick.” “Maybe,” he said. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. She said her goodbyes and headed to the parking garage. She slid into her car slowly to avoid bumping her still-sore surgical scar into her steering wheel, then drove back to her condo. She turned the key, took a deep breath, and opened the door. A wave of pinescented cleaner hit her nose. The bare walls and spotless floors and counters confirmed her complete and total exit. She walked through the empty space, noting how her footsteps echoed. It was sterile, cold. She’d been scrubbed from this place, and it felt strangely invasive.

She’d already signed the closing documents, and the buyers were g in the morning. This was her goodbye. She walked all the way back to her room that she’d shared with Joshua, that once held the bed she’d shared with Dmitri. The little room tucked off to the side that had remained empty and unused after Landon’s death. The memories echoed around her of the love and joy and sorrow she’d felt here. Dmitri’s absence hurt the worst, because he was still out there somewhere, and she couldn’t have him. The aching gap hadn’t gotten better. It had moved into her soul, probably for good. She squeezed her fingers in, the biting pain of her fingernails pulled her away from the darkness that threatened to overtake her. She took the key off her keychain, left it on the counter, and closed the door. She was done, in so many ways. She stopped by the mailboxes to drop off the letter she’d written to Andrea. It was ten pages long and handwritten. She wanted Andrea to know it was really from her. She’d had a quick lunch with her that day, but hadn’t said a word because she was a coward. She’d hugged her tight when they’d parted ways, so much so that Andrea had cracked a joke about it not being a final goodbye. Sophia had almost lost it then, but managed to keep it together until she got to her car and her body racked with painful sobs. Andrea was the only person that could’ve stopped her, and she couldn’t let that happen. Andrea should get the letter in a couple of days. Hopefully, someday, she would forgive her for what she was about to do. She drove to the airport, barely making her 7:40 flight to New Orleans with just a single, small, suitcase. The luggage bellhop checked her bag for her and she focused on getting though security and to her gate. The flight was short, mercifully so, and her stomach didn’t hurt during the landing like she thought it might. She retrieved her baggage and took the first cab she could find, which contained a jolly man with a thick Cajun accent and an easy smile. He pleasantly chatted her ear off while they drove. They soon turned on to Bourbon Street, which was filled with a flurry of people, shouts, and lights.

“Where to, miss?” he drawled. “I don’t know what it’s called. It’s very nice, but doesn’t have a name on the front and it serves Cajun and French food.” The man laughed. “That’d be Pierre’s place, right? I know it well.” He stopped in front of the restaurant. “Here you are, miss.” She slipped him two hundred dollars. “Can you wait nearby?” “Why yes, ma’am, I can.” He smiled and pulled away, pulling his car into a tight spot about half a block up, lights off. Satisfied, she walked around the big fountain and through the doors, her heart pounding. The last time she’d been here had been with him. Him. She forced herself to stay composed even though her chest was pounding with pain. The maître d’ didn’t even look up when she entered. “Name on the reservation?” he said in a bored monotone. “I don’t have one, but you can tell Pierre I’m here.” That was enough to drag his eyes from his podium to hers. He took her in, all the way from her still brunette hair that was pulled back in a chignon, down her form-fitting black suit, and stopping at her red high-heeled shoes. “And you are?” “Sophia.” He sneered at her. “Sophia who?” “Just Sophia.” He rolled his eyes and walked away. She waited, tapping her toes on the pretty marble floor. “Miss Sophia?” the maître d’ was back, wide-eyed and polite. “He has instructed me to seat you.”

“Good.” He showed her to a small table set for two outside, far away from the other tables. He whisked away the other setting and slipped away. She ordered a merlot from the waiter and waited, watching the other patrons around her. Pierre slid in across from her, wearing a ridiculous white suit and a big smile. “My most lovely, Sophia. I am surprised to see you here, but in a most pleasant way.” “That is kind of you. I’m sorry I neglected to book a reservation.” She crossed her legs and settled into her seat. “You are alone,” he said. It was a statement more than a question. “Dmitri is not here,” she answered. “Which is why I am.” He clasped his hands in front of him. “I’m afraid I do not understand.” His wide smile was still pasted on his face. “I came to you for help,” she said. “I can’t imagine how I can help you.” His smile faded. “What is it, precisely, that brought you here?” “I need to find him,” Sophia said. He picked his hands off the table, pressed his palms together, and touched his fingertips to his lips. He leaned forward again, lowering his voice. “I cannot do this for you.” “Yes, you can. He said I could trust you, so I am. I know you can do this, and you have to,” she said. He looked away, gazing off to the side. “What do you propose I do to find a man that eludes authorities on a daily basis?” “You can get a message to him. I know you can. I will be staying here.” She

ed a slip of paper to him with the name of her hotel. “St. Petersburg,” he said. “Interesting choice.” “I want you to get a hold of him, somehow, and tell him where I am. Tell him every morning at ten o’clock, I will be at the Winter Palace, in Palace Square waiting for him.” He nodded, folded the paper and slipped it into his front pocket. “This is a long shot at best, my dear.” “I know. That’s why I’m going to search for him while I’m there, using other methods.” Pierre shook his head vigorously. “You must not. You will get yourself killed. You can’t just prance into Russia and start asking about the whereabouts of Dmitri Davydov,” he said. “He’s probably not even there.” “Then you better get a hold of him quickly.” She slammed her empty wineglass down. “Please. I leave tonight.” She stood and grabbed her purse. “How much do I owe you for the wine?” He distractedly waved his hand. “It’s on the house.” “Thank you.” “In the unlikely event I am able to reach him, is there anything else you want me to tell him besides these things?” He patted his pocket where her piece of paper was safely stored. “Tell him…” She bit her lip to hold back the tears. “Tell him that I love him.” A few tears spilled out anyway. She didn’t bother to wipe them off. He nodded, eyes cast down. She left as quickly as her stupid heels could carry her. She went down the block and found her cab. True to his word, he was waiting. She slid in the back and directed him back to the airport. He chatted the whole way, incessantly curious about her immediate return to the airport, but she couldn’t hear him. She was lost in her thoughts.

She’d made the decision as soon as Dmitri had fled. She’d sold her condo, all of her belongings, and had done everything she needed to for the Red Bluff International matter. Then she’d written a letter to Andrea explaining what she was doing. The kind, soft, responsible Sophia had died with Josh and Landon in the car accident a long time ago, and now her shell of a life no longer existed in Houston. She’d left it all behind, and she was never coming back. She would no longer live in the shadow of grief. She would not yearn for a life that wasn’t hers anymore. She was not who she thought she was, and she was capable of doing things she never thought she would. But she was going to do them now. She would find him, even if it got her killed. She made it to the airport. Her one, small suitcase earned her a curious look from the counter agent. She made it through security and sat in the boarding area near her gate. When they called for her section to board, she gave her ticket to the agent, and walked down the long, empty jet way. It was time. The End For the latest updates on Book Two in The Gunrunner series, DARK CHASE, please check my website at Mirandakavi.net

Acknowledgements

First of all, thank you for choosing this book (unless you illegally pirated it, which is totally not cool—please don’t do that). To my husband and daughter: thank you for understanding my “third” job after my career and family obligations are met. I love you both like crazy. To Andrea Heltsley: I would have never finished this book without your encouragement. You once said to me, “Finish it. Publish it. I want to read it.” So I did. To my beta readers: Peggy, Karen, Audrey, Melinda, April and Heather—thank you. Your words gave me courage to put this in front of the public. Anna Romain was kind enough to advise me on cuss words and of endearment in Russian—thank you! My editor is awesome and super nice to me, even when I’m odd—thank you Ami Johnson of ALDJ Editing. My publicist is infinitely patient with my special brand of crazy—thank you, Kris Pittman and all the other folks at Red Coat PR. If you have any comments or concerns or , please drop me an email. I won’t bite.

About the Author

Miranda Kavi is a romance and paranormal fiction author. Her books have been listed on the top 100 best seller lists on Amazon and iTunes. She has worked as an attorney, an executive recruiter, and an assistant in a biological anthropology lab. She loves scary movies, museums, and is hopelessly addicted to chocolate. She lives in the Houston area with her husband and daughter. http://mirandakavi.net/ @mirandakavi https://www.facebook.com/MirandaKavi

Young Adult: RUA RIVE (Rua, Book 2) Adult: FLEE CRUX (Flee, Book 2)