Indulgence: A Russian Mafia Romance (Grekov Mafia Book 1) (2 page)

When I stepped off the elevator at seven-thirty my heart fluttered, my eyes darted around the office, taking in the madhouse before me. Special Agents were hustling around with files clenched in their hands, lips pressed into tight lines, emotionless looks plastered on their faces. Something was wrong. I could sense it, as well as see it in the way the men from upstairs carried themselves. They clustered around the office, spoke in hushed whispers, and then rushed to the elevators, disappearing upstairs, where I could only assume there was even more chaos. I didn’t have a clue what was happening, and from the look on my coworkers’ faces, they didn’t either.

As I approached my desk, I looked around, noticing all the faces that I didn’t recognize. Not all of the suits had disappeared back upstairs. Who were these people and what the hell was going on? I’d just sat down at my desk and began my routine start-up process when Bridget tapped on my shoulder. Startled by the unexpected contact, I swung around to face the person that touched me, my hand clenched in a fist, heart beating a mile a minute.

“Did you hear what happened?” Bridget choked out, eyes red and puffy and filled with tears. “Oh my god! I just can’t believe it.”

“What? What happened?” I grabbed Bridget’s hand, pulling her to the chair next to my desk. She sat still for several minutes, seeming to stare into space. I was getting ready to ask her if she was okay when she suddenly looked at me, pain etched onto every inch of her face. The words that left her mouth hit me like a wrecking ball, knocking the breath out of me in an instant.

“They’re dead. Three agents.” Bridget sobbed uncontrollably for what seemed like forever. Three dead agents explained the chaos running rampant around the office, but who were they and how did they die?

Bridget finally calmed down enough to share what she knew about the situation, and I was dying to hear every word. For the next ten minutes, she talked softly and quickly about a failed mission. Agents had been given bad intel and ended up walking straight into a trap. From what Bridget had overheard, an undercover agent working for the Grekov mafia family had been killed when his cover was blown. Two other agents had been led to their deaths for getting too close to the heart of the Grekov operation. I just couldn’t believe we had lost three agents overnight. It was one of the worst things that could have happened.

It was bad news but Bridget seemed to be taking it especially hard. “The guys upstairs will see that the bastards responsible pay for what they’ve done. You know that,” I said.

“I know, Corsica, but... but Neil, the man I was sl... I mean dating, was one of them.”

“Oh!” No wonder she was so distraught. “Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry.” I pulled Bridget close and gave her a tight hug, her body slumping into mine as she continued to sob. I knew neither my words nor the hug itself would take her pain away but maybe it would soothe her heartbreak a little. My heart was breaking for her. I felt so bad for her. I knew firsthand what it was like to lose someone close to you.

The rest of the day was somber and gloomy, slipping by at a snail’s pace. Stories circulated around the office about the incident but very few details were shared. The next day, however, shed a lot more light on the subject. The chaos was more controlled, but there were more nameless suits lingering around today. My supervisor, Mr. Dancer, had a short departmental meeting informing us of the upcoming funerals if we wished to pay our respects to the families of the fallen agents. Heads nodded all around the office, as if any of us would turn our back on the families. Please. We were better than that.

The conference room on our floor was filled with agents and supervisors around lunchtime. Even with the door closed, I could hear raised voices, and worried faces could be seen through the glass. Their frustration was evident. I didn’t know what they were talking about, but it was a heated discussion for sure. My desk was just outside the door to the conference room. I was trying as best I could to keep my head down and get my work done, but I was drawn to whatever was going on. It was none of my business but it was going on right there, with voices occasionally getting so loud it sounded like the person was right beside my desk. I practically had no choice but to listen in, although the glass door muffled the voices. I could hear them talking but I couldn’t tell what they were saying.

Resting my head on my hand, I tilted my head in the direction of the meeting when a man in his forties pointed in my direction. In a matter of seconds, several heads turned and looked directly at me. I’d been caught red-handed eavesdropping on their meeting. Fuck! My cheeks blazed with heat as I snapped my head away quickly, attempting to look busy; busy doing the work I should have been doing in the first place.

The meeting room door opened, the man who had pointed at me looking at me. “What’s your name?” a deep male voice boomed from behind me.

My pulse pounded like the maddening beat of a drumline in my ears as my heart thudded wildly against my rib cage. Shit! Shit! Shit! Taking a steadying breath, I turned and looked at the man towering over me, darting out my shaking hand. “Corsica. Corsica Moretti, sir,” I said, my voice almost a whisper as I looked into his eyes.

“You’d be perfect,” he said.

“What?” That was unexpected. “Perfect for what, sir?”

“Come with me,” he said as he whirled around and reentered the meeting room. “See? She’s just what we need.”

“I think you might be right, James,” another man said, nodding his agreement. What the hell was I perfect for? What was going on?

James motioned for me to enter the conference room. I moved farther into the room, my feet heavy with each step I took as James closed the door behind me. It snapped shut with an ominous click. Or maybe it just sounded ominous because I thought I was about to get in trouble as I stood surrounded by a roomful of strangers. James ushered me to an empty chair at the table and I hesitantly lowered myself into the seat and waited, hopefully to be filled in on what the hell was going on.

“Corsica, I’m James Green. I’m the Director of the DEA in New York.”

“Nice to meet you, sir. What exactly is going on?” A few of the men sitting at the table seemed shocked that I would ask such a question, a question that was clearly above my paygrade… but I had been invited in, and I was starting to think it wasn’t because I was in any type of trouble.

“I’m sure you’re aware of the incident that happened yesterday?”

I nodded.

“Good. The Grekov family has been running drugs into the United States for several years, their shipments increasing in size and frequency.”

I nodded again, thinking of all the documents that I had analyzed.

“Nikola Grekov, the son of the man responsible for these shipments, will be arriving in New York in two weeks. The agent that was placed with the Grekovs had been undercover with the family for almost two years… until yesterday.” He stopped speaking for what seemed like an eternity. My eyes caught sight of his bobbing Adam’s apple, the pain from yesterday’s news still fresh in his eyes. After a few seconds, he went on. “We need a replacement. A woman might be our best bet.”

When Mr. Green finished talking, I sat still, mulling over all that he’d said. Before I could speak, Jeff Dancer, the supervisor of my department spoke. “Corsica has all the credentials required for the Special Agent position… but she lacks the field experience for a job like this. You can’t possibly be serious about placing her in the line of fire with a family like the Grekovs, especially after recent events. It’s a suicide mission.”

The director looked at my supervisor. “Mr. Dancer, I appreciate your thoughts but her lack of experience is exactly what makes her perfect for the job. The Grekov family has proven to be very good at detecting our seasoned agents, and they’ll be even more cautious now.” He glanced at me. “Also, we know Nikola has a preference for women who have dark hair and… uhh… curvy figures.” He cleared his throat. “This young woman may be our only hope at salvaging this entire operation. We can’t afford to miss it.”

“I’ll do it,” I blurted. “I can do it.”

“Great,” Mr. Green said, excitement lacing his voice. “You will be transferred to the New York office until further notice.”

“Yes, sir.” Just like that, I was a field agent. My moment had arrived.

CHAPTER THREE

I spent the rest of the day with Director Green getting a crash course on the Grekov case. My dream of working as a Special Agent was finally coming true and I was filled with a complete and total euphoric feeling unlike any I had ever had before. Sitting at a desk one floor up from my department – my old department – I learned all about the dirty deeds of the Grekov family.

Nikola Grekov, the man I was to get close to, was a murderer, a drug-running criminal. Until this moment I hadn’t seen a picture of the man, but my imagination has been busy, creating a crude, scarred thug with soulless eyes, a man as ugly on the outside as he was on the inside. The picture before me, however, revealed something completely different. The handsome young man was wearing a dark suit that molded perfectly to his muscled body, his expression commanding and intense. This was a man used to getting what he wanted.

I devoured his pictures with my eyes, licking my lips. The man was drop-dead gorgeous. There was simply no way to deny that. With a twinge of regret, I tossed the pictures face-down on the desk and continued reading. He was in his late twenties – just a little older than me – and tall; 6’2 according to one report, 6’3 according to another. I picked up the pictures and looked through them again. A couple of the surveillance photos showed him with other men. He towered over them. Definitely tall. I threw the pictures down again. It didn’t matter that he was tall… or handsome… or that he looked good in a suit. All that mattered was that he was a criminal. He was a job, nothing more. Still, I was going to have to be careful. It would be easy to get lost in those intense eyes that stared out from the photos, easy to forget that handsome face masked darkness.

With a frustrated sigh, I forced Nikola Grekov to the back of my mind and read through the rest of the information that had been collected on his family. They were the largest organized crime family in Russia, growing faster than any other organization the DEA had seem in more than twenty years. All attempts at getting close to the core of the family had been a dead-end, and it had seemed that all possible options had been exhausted… until now.

Mr. Green’s plan was to bring me up to speed on the case and come up with a way for me to meet the pakhan’s son, Nikola. If everything went according to plan, Nikola would take a fancy to me and we’d have a way into the inner sanctum of the Russian mafia family. Sounded easy enough, but the words of my old supervisor, Mr. Dancer, replayed in my head. Was this a suicide mission? What would happen if my cover was blown like the other agent? I’d be dead, that’s what. My mouth went dry at the thought of dying at the hands of a ruthless killer. So many scenarios, so many ways to end a life... painfully... brutally… and the Grekov family knew them all.

Mr. Green slid a sandwich across the table to me, his deep voice bringing me back to reality. “Corsica, we’ll remove any connection you have to the agency and create on online presence that fits your actual life. You’ll use your own name; no aliases. That will make things easier to keep straight in your head. Easier and safer.”

I nodded, thankful that I’d get to keep my own name while undercover. I had been worried about, scared to death that I might make a mistake. “How long will this undercover operation last?” I unwrapped my sandwich, the rich scent of barbecue filling my nostrils. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I took the first bite. I had no idea what the future held so I figured I needed to eat before my first mission began.

“That depends on you,” the director said. “When we have the information needed to take them down, we’ll get you out of there.”

Nodding, I took another bite, trusting in my new team. We ate in silence for a few minutes, my thoughts going to all the terrible crimes the Grekovs had committed over the years. They had never been arrested or even indicted because there was never any proof or witnesses to tie them to anything. Hopefully, I’d be able to change that, but one question kept nagging at me. One question I was afraid to ask because I thought I already knew the answer. But I had to know for sure. “What if I don’t get what we need while he’s in New York? What then?”

“You do whatever you can to make him take you to Russia with him.”

He must’ve noticed the look on my face, although I did my best not to show I was nervous.

“Corsica,” he said. “I know this is asking a lot. It’s a very unique situation. I hope you understand how much we’re relying on you to help catch these people.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll do my best, sir.”

Mr. Green smiled, seeming to realize I wasn’t going to back out or try to change my mind. “Go home, get some rest, and prepare yourself for a whole new life. We’ll head to New York in the morning and get things started. Any more questions?”

“No, sir.” I stood up, and tossed the sandwich wrapper in the trash, heading for the door when another question popped into my head. I looked back at the director. “Mr. Green, what should I pack for my trip? Do I need to bring anything in particular? Clothes? Passport?”

“Your passport. Nothing else. Clothing will be provided. We’ll need to dress you like the women Grekov finds... appealing.”