The Devil's Beauty (Crime Lord Interconnected Standalone Book 2) (32 page)

“Your mother—”

“Is a cold hearted, self-centered, egomaniac who would die happy in a room full of mirrors.”

“Ava!”

She ignored John Paul’s sharp reprimand. “I won’t forgive her for this. I will never forget how little she really cares about me. How little she’s always cared.” She pushed to her feet, her appetite gone, her throat tight. “She’s just like you.”

It came out of her without a shred of consent from her. It hung in the air, an almost physical blade dripping with her venom, made worse by the look of absolute horror and agony twisting on his face. It sliced through her worse than anything her mother could have ever done.

“I’m sorry … oh, God, Dad, I am so sorry!” She hurried around the counter to his side. “I didn’t mean that. I swear, I didn’t.”

He started to turn away from her, one hand lifted to his mouth. He rubbed, not meeting her gaze.

“I love you,” she rushed on. “I love you so much. You’re the only person I have ever … the only person I would willingly die for. I didn’t mean … it’s not—”

“It’s because of the way I treat Dimitri, isn’t it?” He had taken the words straight out of the secret place she kept them, deep, deep inside herself. He looked at her, eyes dark with the lingering remains of his pain. “It’s because I don’t love him and I should.”

She could only swallow.

“Maybe I am like your mother.”

“No!” She lunged for his arm even though he hadn’t moved. “You are nothing like her. I’m an idiot for even saying something so stupid. You’re the best father anyone could ever ask for.”

“To you.” His shoulders lifted with his deep inhale. “I’ve only been that way to you, because I have never loved anyone the way I love you, Ava. I have never wanted to protect someone so fiercely I could have been protecting my own life. You,” he took her face between his hands, “have been my entire world for sixteen years and I would do things, terrible, unspeakable things without question to keep you safe. You’re my daughter.” Tears spilled down her face and caught on his fingers. He smoothed them away gently. “You mean everything to me.”

“But Dimitri’s your—”

“Flesh and blood?” he finished with a wry grin. His palms slipped from her cheeks. “I will never accept him as mine. I can’t.”

“Why?” She followed him to the other side of the island and stood as he lowered himself onto a stool. “What has he done that was so wrong?”

John Paul shook his head. “It isn’t the time for this talk. You only just returned. We should—”

“Please,” she pleaded quietly. “Please, I have to know.”

“Even if the answer will make you see me as a monster?” he said with a lopsided grin that never carried to the crinkles he normally gets around his eyes.

“There is nothing you could have ever done or do that would make me see you differently,” she said, meaning it. “You will always be my dad and I will always love you.”

He took her hand and held it in the soft cradle of his. He examined the fingers, the knuckles, and finally the palm.

“I hope that remains true, because I…” He broke off with a shake of his head. “I haven’t told this to anyone.”

Erik looked up from the gleaming surface of his mahogany desk when Dimitri stalked into his office. The tiny brunette Erik kept like a guard dog outside his downtown office scurried after him, frantic and crimson faced.

“Mr. Tasarov, forgive me, I told him—”

“It’s all right, Meghan.” Erik set his gold pen down on the documents open before him and rose. “This is my nephew.”

That only served to make Meghan even more anxious. She fretted with her hands, waving them and twisting them together at her midsection.

“Oh! Oh, okay, I’m sorry. I’m new.”

Dimitri waved her apology aside. “It’s all right. I understand. You can’t allow just anyone to waltz in here. I am armed, after all and could be up to anything.”

Her green eyes nearly bulged from her head. Her small, pink mouth parted. She glanced from Erik to Dimitri, making weird choking sounds.

“He’s joking, Meghan,” Erik soothed her. “Please shut the door behind you.”

Visibly relieved to have escaped, Meghan scuttled from the room and shut the frosted doors behind her.

Erik half groaned, half sighed. “Must you torment my employees every time you visit?”

Dimitri smirked. “But I am armed.”

Erik shook his head slowly, but the longer he did it, the harder it was to maintain his grin until he laughed and circled the desk. Dimitri met him halfway and accepted the hard embrace, and the harder thump on his back.

“What brings you?” Erik pulled back to peer into his face. “Everything okay?”

Dimitri paused, still not wholly firm on his decision. He’d been mulling it over during the entire drive, but the closer he got to his destination, the more he began to question the idea.

Erik was the only person he semi trusted. The man had been more of a father than his own father and there was a loyalty in that. But at the end of the day, Erik was his mother’s brother. He was part of the Bratva. His loyalties may have extended to Dimitri, but it would always remain strong with the brotherhood.

“It was Elena,” he started. “She’s trying to kill Ava.”

He watched Erik’s face carefully, waiting for even a flicker to determine which side the man stood on.

“Ava?” Dark brows twisted in genuine confusion. “Who … John Paul’s girl?”

He motioned Dimitri to the small, leather and steel sitting area tucked against one wall. It faced a solid sheet of glass overlooking the entire west side of the city.

Dimitri never understood the appeal of monster skyscrapers towering over all the little people below. He never considered himself above those struggling to make a living of the lives they were given by chance. But he understood the necessity to show power. It was the only way keep that power.

“She hired men who chased us all the way to Puerto Rico,” Dimitri said, lowering himself gingerly onto one of the cool seats.

Erik took the seat adjacent. “Puerto Rico?”

It was a delicate processes weaving both truth and fiction together in a knot that sounded possible. He didn’t tell Erik about their years together, or that they’d ever met before this, except in passing. In this version, Ava was a virtual stranger who happened to have something Dimitri wanted—John Paul’s vote.

“You kidnapped her?” Erik’s exclamation of disbelief erased any lingering shadows of doubt Dimitri might have had about the man’s involvement. “Are you insane? You should have talked to me. We could have found another way.”

It was the moment of truth.

“I wanted to hurt him.” He stared at the wide space between his feet, through the triangle of his arms where his hands were clasped and braced on his knees. “I wanted him to see how it felt to lose something he loved.”

Even to his own ears, the confession came from his throat, but in a voice that hadn’t been his since he was six and sitting in bed with Erik, trying to figure out why his father didn’t want him.

“It’s not you,”
Erik would say while pulling the blankets around him.
“You’ll see that one day.”

“It was dangerous and reckless!” Erik snapped now. “He could have killed you.”

Dimitri nodded. “I know.”

Erik sighed heavily. “This is a disaster.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “If we don’t fix this quickly, we will have a mutiny on our hands. The city will be in flames by nightfall, and the other territories will swoop in and steal the rest.”

“No.” He waited until he had the other man’s full attention. “That’s not going to happen. You’re not going to let that happen.”

Erik frowned. “Me? What can I do?”

Dimitri rose and offered the other man his hand. “Trust me?”

In all his life, Dimitri had never seen more apprehension on anyone’s face than the one permanently warping his uncle’s. He sat stiff and unyielding in the passenger’s seat of Dimitri’s rental and stared at their passing surroundings with the aversions of a dog on his way to get neutered and being fully aware of it.

The idea was entertaining, if Erik didn’t carry at least four guns at any given time.

He rolled to a gentle stop right outside the glass doors of Arrow Holding Corporation and killed the engine. The keys jingled as he pocketed them and faced the man.

“All right?”

Erik’s brows deepened in their scowl, if that were possible. “This is a bad idea.”

“Or a very good idea,” Dimitri countered. “Come on.”

He rolled out before the man could try and talk him out of it. He closed the door and circled the hood to the curb. He waited.

“This is a no parking zone,” Erik muttered, eyeing the sign inches from the car’s trunk.

Dimitri shrugged. “It’ll save me from having to return it.”

Erik shook his head sadly, but said nothing.

Dimitri led him up the onyx steps to the doors and into the foyer. Gleaming rods of steel and sheets of dark glass created an atmosphere that was both cold and impersonal while being atrociously wealthy. He still had absolutely no idea what it was the company did exactly, but men and women in thousand dollar suits loaded and unloaded from the elevator with stock expressions and brisk steps.

A stone faced blonde sat perfectly rigid behind a glass desk. She looked up when they entered. Her cool gaze rolled over Erik’s crisp, neatly tailored suit with a flicker of approval. Then she peered at Dimitri’s cargo pants, duster and faded t-shirt, and the disapproval could have been eaten with a spoon.

“Can I help you?” she chirped.

“¡Amigos!”
Marcus stalked into the foyer, phone in one hand, the other waving for their attention. “Traffic…” He shook his head, exasperated. “Would have been here sooner.” He spotted Erik and a spark of interest had him tilting his head. “Erik, long time no see.”

Erik grinned, accepting the hand Marcus extended. “Been keeping busy?”

“Always.” Marcus chuckled.

The two shook once and then both turned to Dimitri.

“So, uh…” Marcus rubbed his hands together. “You said it was urgent?”

Dimitri rehashed his idea to the man. Erik said nothing, but Dimitri could sense his growing unease the longer they stood in that lobby.

“Yeah,” Marcus said when Dimitri finished. “You have my support.”

Dimitri patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Let’s do it quickly though, eh?” Marcus grinned. “I have a date tonight.”

No one could argue that. They made their way to the elevator and rode it all the way to the top floor. It opened directly into the meeting room with its single, round table and marble walls. Theresa was already there, standing by the window in a form fitting dress in deep plum. Her pale hair gleamed in the light, a silvery sheet down her back. She turned when they arrived, one hand raised to her ear.

“Yes, I want all required documents to me in an hour,” she said, gaze moving swiftly from Dimitri, to Marcus, and settling on Erik. “Don’t fuck with me, Penny. I don’t sharpen my nails just to make them look pretty.” She hung up and fixed her full focus on the trio exiting the lift. “Gentlemen, how incredible presumptuous of you to think a lady can be summoned on a whim. This had better be important.” She stalked to the table and tossed her phone into her clutch. “Why are you present at a chair meeting, Erik?”

“We will discuss that once John Paul arrives,” Dimitri stated evenly, motioning Erik to Elena’s chair.

Theresa didn’t miss the gesture. “Will Elena not be joining us?”

Dimitri was saved from having to answer when the elevator doors rolled open and John Paul stormed out with a head full of boiling fury.

“What is this meaning of this?” he snarled, eyes borrowing into Dimitri. “How dare you summon a chair meeting today of all days.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Theresa drawled, lowering herself into her chair.

“You will want to hear this.” Dimitri told them both. He waited until everyone had claimed their seats and he had the full focus of the room. “I’m electing Erik into the western seat.”

Theresa chuckled. “What? You have zero power here. You’re not even officially elected yourself.”

“You’re wrong.” Dimitri cut her with a single glance. “This is my chair. I am the leader of the north and main head of this committee.”

“Excuse—”

“Shut up.” He didn’t raise his voice but the words snapped through the room. “Your little power trip is over. I won. Majority rules. You were outnumbered and out voted. You and your father no longer have any power here. Now, shut your mouth.”

Theresa blinked, startled into silence. But he knew that wouldn’t last.

He quickly went on. “I’m electing Erik in Elena’s place at the table. No one knows the west better than he does and he is a direct descendent to the western hierarchy.”

“Ivan is,” John Paul interjected. “That chair rightfully belongs to him.”

“Elena and Ivan are fugitives against the west,” Erik stated. “Their crimes against the Syndicate and their own territory disqualify them from power.”

“Hold on a minute,” Theresa spoke up, having come out of her shock. “Are we here to vote Elena out of the Syndicate? What has she done?”

“She attempted to kill, and then kidnapped my daughter.” John Paul said, eyes fixed, cool and calculating on Dimitri. “This is a dangerous game you’re playing.”

“With Elena and Ivan disqualified, that chair would have been given to me,” Dimitri said, ignoring the statement. “I’m forfeiting that right. That leaves it to Erik.”

“You can’t do that,” Theresa blurted. “You no longer belong to that territory. You said so yourself.”

Dimitri nodded. “Which is why I requested this meeting.”

“He has my vote,” Marcus piped in. “The east and the west never saw eye to eye. Maybe this will change things.”

Erik inclined his head, but said nothing.

“I want Elena.” John Paul flicked his steely gaze to Erik. “That is my condition. Bring her to me and you have my vote.”

Erik hesitated. A muscle tightened in his jaw that Dimitri understood; no matter what Elena was and what she’d done, she was still his sister. He partially wondered where his sentiments were. She was his mother. That should have meant something, but there wasn’t even a flicker of apprehension in him. No doubt. No remorse. They could have been talking about demolishing a building for all the love and warmth he felt regarding the matter.

“I accept,” Erik said at last, with more conviction than Dimitri could see on his face.

Theresa sighed. “You have my vote. Getting rid of Elena is all I’ve wanted since taking the chair. What?” she snapped when the others stared at her. “She’s a psychopath. I can stomach blood with the best of them, but she made even my stomach churn.”

“That leaves me.” Dimitri took up the conversation. “Erik already has my vote.”

“It’s unanimous,” Marcus said.

“That’s interesting.” Theresa smirked. “I don’t think that’s ever happened. We must really want to see Elena crucified.” She looked from one to the other. “Does anyone know where she is?”

“No.” Erik rose smoothly. “But the west will be putting word out that she is no longer in power.”

“And we will certainly do the same,” Theresa purred, already on her phone, fingers flying over the keys. “Let’s see if we can’t dig her out of whatever little hole she’s hiding in and…” She sent off her text, set her phone down, and beamed. “Have ourselves a proper lynching.” Chuckling at her own joke, she bounced out of her seat, more alive and happy than Dimitri had ever seen her. “I think I might give Penny the day off.”