The Devil's Beauty (Crime Lord Interconnected Standalone Book 2) (33 page)

With that, she gathered her things and stalked to the elevator. One perfectly manicured finger jabbed at the button. While she waited, she turned back to the group of men studying her.

“I nearly forgot. Any luck on capturing The Devil?”

It was amusing to watch four fully grown men shift in their seats and avert their eyes.

“He didn’t take the bait,” Marcus muttered. “We’re going to try again.”

After his run in with Chan Lee, Dimitri had promised himself he’d be more careful about where he went. He couldn’t afford to get captured by the Syndicate. Even Marcus wouldn’t hesitate to have his head if ever knew just how much Dimitri had stolen from him.

“Try harder,” Theresa drawled lazily as the elevator doors rolled open. “He’s becoming a pest that is no longer adorable. Take him out.”

She dug out her phone and stepped into the metal box.

They waited until she was gone before facing each other.

“I’d like to take her out,” Marcus muttered when the doors had sealed shut. “What?” He laughed when the others eyed him. “I mean to dinner. She’s a colossal bitch, but she’s hot. I like hot, feisty women with legs like hers.”

No one wanted to touch that.

“What about Elena?” Erik reverted the conversation back to the matter at hand.  

“We should get the word out,” John Paul said. “The more eyes looking for her, the less places she’ll have to hide.”

“I’ll inform my men.” Marcus got to his feet, phone in hand. “The east won’t give her passage.”

Dimitri followed the man when he moved across the room to make his call. Marcus looked up when Dimitri stopped in front of him.

“I’m sorry about your cousin,” he said quietly. “He was a good man.”

Confusion wrinkled Marcus’s nose. “Hector? Why? What happened?”

Dimitri braced himself. “He died saving my and Ava’s life the night before when men Elena sent to his house shot him.”

“What?” Marcus laughed. “Hector’s fine. He texted me this morning to see if you arrived.”

It was Dimitri’s turn to blink. “What?”

“Yeah, see?” Marcus showed him the text time stamped for some time earlier that morning.

“He was shot,” Dimitri argued.

Marcus shrugged, lower his arm. “Hector gets shot a lot. Never dies though.
Mi mama
says he made a deal with the devil.”

Dimitri almost choked on his laugh, but didn’t comment.

Grinning, Marcus clapped him on the arm once before hurrying away to make his call.

“You okay?” Erik came up behind Dimitri, hands lost in his pockets. “She’s my sister, but she’s your mom.”

Dimitri had thought of that when he’d had the idea to bring Erik into the Syndicate. But Elena had sealed her own fate. She had gone after John Paul, breaking one of the oldest accordance’s in the book. It was one thing for their territories to fight between each other, but they were the leaders. They and their family was out of bound to the other leaders and the other territories. Going against that treaty was punishable by death.

But she’d gone after Ava. Even if John Paul could forgive that, Dimitri couldn’t.

“She brought it on herself,” he told the man.

Erik nodded. “Yes, but … she is still your mother.”

Maybe by birth, but Elena had never felt like a mother. She was more like an employer, one that had the power to end your life if angered. She had said herself that she wasn’t capable of motherly affection. Having children was just her way of passing along the throne one day, of wielding power and two loyal warriors. It would have made no difference to her if one of them had died so long as she had another one to replace him. He knew that the only reason she’d agreed to back him for the north was the power she would gain by having a son in a seat of such high regards. There had been no pride in her. It was all about what Dimitri could do for her.

“Are you okay?” He decided to ignore Erik’s question when he couldn’t give a proper answer.

Erik shrugged. “My sister has always been complicated. Our father … your grandfather, wasn’t an easy man to be around.”

Dimitri had never met his grandparents. People in their line of work didn’t live very long to enjoy a family. But Elena told them often of her father, of the bear of a man with hands large enough to wrap around their heads and squeeze until blood was pouring from their nostrils and feet bigger than canoes that could kick them clear across a field. Dimitri may never have met the man, but he was fairly certain he would have killed him.

“Don’t lie to John Paul,” Dimitri said quietly. “You made a promise.”

Anger tightened the skin around Erik’s eyes. “I know how a promise works, Dimitri. I will not go back on my word.”

Dimitri was about to nod when he caught sight John Paul heading for the elevators. He said he’d call Erik later and hurried after him just as the doors slid open and the other man stepped into the metal box.

The doors closed behind them, sealing them in, and Dimitri wondered the wisdom of what he was about to do.

“I recant my word,” he said, never taking his eyes off the thin seam running lengthwise down the gleaming, steel sheets separating him from all chances of escape. “I love her and I will fight for her, even if I’m fighting you.”

The lights above the door blinked steadily, almost lazily ticking off floors in a slowness that made every second of silence unbearably painful. The man beside him never moved. He never looked away from the lights. Dimitri was nearly certain he hadn’t heard him, when…

“You don’t deserve her.”

“No,” Dimitri admitted softly. “And I never will, but I am willing to die for her. I would kill for her. I would set this entire city up in flames to keep her safe. You will never find anyone who will ever cherish her more than I will.”

“You can’t have her.”

He’d expected that. It was strange that it no longer meant anything to him.

“You can’t stop me.”

There was a sound, a chuckle maybe, but when he dared a peek, the man’s face was a frigid line.

“I could.”

“You won’t,” Dimitri countered smoothly. “She would hate you.”

The door opened. Neither of them moved.

“I lost her once,” Dimitri murmured quietly. “I won’t lose her again. If you’re going to kill me, you better do it and make sure I’m dead, because if you stop me again, I will end you.”

He walked out and never looked back.

The rental was still there when he emerged, with a bright, yellow tag tucked beneath the wiper telling him he owed the city bi-law three hundred dollars for parking in a no parking zone.

The ticket was tossed somewhere into the car. The rental company would take care of it and put the bill on his credit card. In the scheme of things, the ticket meant nothing to him.

He drove to John Paul’s estate with the dedication of someone outrunning the end of the world. His mind was playing and replaying all the things he would say to her when he parked at the base of the stairs and climbed out. He pocketed the keys and jogged up the steps.

He knocked, which surprised even him. The whole way there, he’d had an image of himself just storming into the building, grabbing her, pulling her into his arms, and kissing her until she forgave him. Yet, the moment he was standing before those great doors, he realized he didn’t deserve her forgiveness that easily, not for the way he’d behaved, not for the things he’d said to her, the things he’d done. It had been his fault she had been kidnapped. It had been his fault her best friend had nearly been killed. If she forgave him because of a kiss, she wouldn’t be the girl he loved.

The door opened and Ava’s freshly scrubbed face peered back at him through the crack. Her hair was pulled back into a messy knot and she wore yoga pants and a white t-shirt that clearly showed the black bra underneath. She blinked at the sight of him, but her surprise quickly vanished into a wide smile.

“Hey!” She opened the door wider. “I wasn’t sure when I was going to see you again. Want to come in?”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to risk pissing John Paul off even more than he already was at Dimitri.

“What are you doing tonight?”

A fine crease appeared between her delicate eyebrows. “I was just getting ready to go over to Robby’s and get a late lunch. Why?”

He searched the perfect lines of her features, the sweet curves of her mouth, the adorable way the tip of her nose tipped up just slightly, and wondered how the hell he’d survived without her the last eight years. His sanity deserved some kind of medal for its resistance.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

Time became an endless loop of dread and anticipation while he waited for her answer. Her silence was the most excruciating thing he’d ever experienced.

“Yes,” she whispered at last. “I’d like that.”

It felt too easy, even as he inclined his head and blurted something about picking her up at eight, a part of him kept waiting for her to come to her senses and tell him to take a flying leap. He would have certainly deserved it. He had absolutely no right at all to come waltzing into her life after the way he’d treated her the first time. But he was a selfish bastard and he wanted her. Hell, he needed her. He may not ever deserve her, but he’d work his ass off to come close.

“Dimitri?”

With one hand on the handle of the car door, he glanced back to where she stood, small and perfect in the open doorway.

“Don’t be late.” She shot him a lopsided grin before shutting the door.

No. He would most definitely not be late.

“Sign here.” The small, French manicured finger slid down the length of the page to yet another line. “And here.” The page was flipped over before Dimitri even had a chance to lift the pen. “A few more,” the tiny blonde promised. “Here. Here. And … here.”

Penny, Theresa’s assistant was the polar opposite of her boss. Where Theresa was a powerhouse of sophistication, charm, and confidence, Penny was timid, skittish, and looked like she was so stressed out, she’d forgotten to eat … for a week. There were dark circles under her gray eyes and a perpetual tremor in her chin like she was just holding on. And every so often, he’d hear the faint whine of her stomach.

“Here,” her voice cracked slightly. “I’m sorry.”

Dimitri shook his head. “Don’t be.”

She flipped the ninth page of what could have passed for an encyclopedia. Her fingers were beginning to tremble, making the pages rustle. Dimitri wondered if it was from fear of his impatience or hunger.

“Here.”

“How long have you been with Theresa, Penny?” he disturbed the crackle of papers to ask.

“Two years, sir. Here.”

“Impressive.” He ticked the box she indicated. “You must be very good at what you do.”

“Yes sir.” She flipped to the next page.

“What exactly do you do?”

She paused in her signature directing and straightened a notch. “Whatever Ms. Maynard requires.”

“Do you like it?”

“I’m sorry?”

He looked up at her. “Do you like your job?”

Her hesitation spoke before she did. “Of course. Ms. Maynard is a … wonderful employer.”

Her lie was so thick,
he
almost choked on it. But he let it slide and focused on the next set of documents and the low whimper growing increasingly louder the longer she leaned over him.

“Are you hungry, Penny?”

She visibly started. “Sir?”

He scribbled his signature where she indicated and turned the page himself. “Are you hungry?”

“Uh…”

“I haven’t had lunch yet,” he went on, indicating to the untouched plate of burger and fries growing cold at his elbow. “And since you’re here, asking me to sign away my soul and first born, you should at least join me.”

He could have sworn there was a glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes before she blinked them away and squared her thin shoulders.

“That’s kind, but Ms. Maynard is expecting me straight back.”

Dimitri flicked a glance up at her face. “There’s at least another hour of signatures here. Sit.”

Her butt hit the chair like an obedient retriever. He pretended not to notice. He returned his attention to the pages.

“Eat.”

He was careful not to look at her again while he skimmed through the documents Theresa had deemed imperative he address immediately.

“Official Syndicate business,”
she’d called it in her text.

He still wasn’t sure how she’d managed to track him down across town at the hole in the wall burger joint, but that was where Penny had found him.

The papers were his acceptance into the organization. It officiated his position, his duties, and obligations. There was even a map outlining the exact perimeters of his territory.

His territory.

Christ.

His hand gave a tremor that disfigured his otherwise confident and aggressive loops.

He had a territory.

It hadn’t really been a reality until that moment as he signed his life away, in one case, quite literally. He was
officially
the head of the city. His title stated the north, but it was all his. He held sixty percent of a hundred percent share. He just became the wealthiest man in the entire province.

“Jesus.”

“I’m sorry?” Penny’s head jerked up so quickly, he heard the snap of her neck.

Her big eyes seemed even bigger over the bulges of her stuffed cheeks. One bit of fry sat on her lip, half chewed, half being shoved the rest of the way, but now frozen as she blinked at him around horrified guilt.

“No, not you,” Dimitri said quickly when she started to lower her hand, half eaten fry still pinched between her fingers. He shoved his untouched drink closer to her. “Keep eating. I want that plate empty.”

He went back to staring at his new life, a life of unimaginable power, wealth, and, Christ, power! So much fucking power. He could feel it rushing through his veins in a burning wave.

He couldn’t breathe. A tsunami of emotions rolled over him, sucking him through the carnage until he was crushed by it. The heady sensation was both exhilarating and terrifying. He didn’t know whether to cry or laugh.

He was untouchable.

No. No one was untouchable. Not even him. But in that moment, he may as well have been.

“Sir?”
Penny hastily set the empty cup down, wiped her hands and fingers on a napkin, and rose. “Please, sir, I really need to get back.”

With a sigh, he placed his signature on the last line on the last page and closed the file.

“I think that’s the last of it.” He stacked it all neatly together and passed them to her, noting how much steadier her grip seemed to be. “Anything else?”

She shook her head. “No, thank you, and I’m very sorry.”

“For?”

Her cheeks turned a violent red that almost had him concerned. “For interrupting your lunch … for eating your lunch. God, I’m so sorry!” She reached for her purse. “I’ll get you a fresh plate.”

He stopped her when she turned on her heels and started searching for a waiter. “Penny…”

Her face had gone a deathly white. “No, no, I … I’ll fix this.”

He rose when her voice hitched and took her firmly by the shoulders. He held on until her tear filled eyes stopped darting frantically around.

“Slow breaths,” he instructed softly. “You’re fine.”

He watched her carefully, waiting for her rapid, shallow breaths to even out, fully prepared to force her head between her knees if necessary.

“I’m okay,” she croaked. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t tell Ms. Maynard.”

He relinquished his grip on her. “Do you have everything?”

With a sniffle, she nodded.

“Good, now, calm down, collect yourself and get back.”

She nodded again, more vigorously. “Thank you, sir.”

“I don’t want it,” he said when she pulled out several folded bills. “Just get there safely, okay?”

File clutched to her chest, she hurried off the restaurant’s patio and ducked into a rusty pile of crap that was more duct tape than metal. The yellow bug must have been something she got from a dump for a penny. It wasn’t worth more than that. If anything, it was a death trap just waiting to explode if she braked wrong.

It shrieked as she pulled away from the curb. He heard it all the way down the block and around the corner.

He put down what he owed for the meal, plus a little something extra, and left the restaurant. He caught a cab to the financial district, a fifty block radius dedicated entirely to people helping other people spend their money while skimming a little extra off the top. Time Group Financial, the home of Evan Maynard sat in the very heart of it, a sophisticated spear of glass and steel twisted into to a tower of power. It rose above the city line from a hilt of concrete. Dimitri had never had a reason to visit the place, but he had one now.

He dug out his phone and called Theresa.

She answered on the fifth ring.
“God invented texting for a reason, Tasarov,”
was her greeting.

Dimitri prolonged his response by wandering over to a street vendor and motioning for the number two hotdog combo.

“And I suppose competence is for the gifted,” he replied as his hotdog was prepared. “Next time you want something done properly, send someone who actually knows what they’re doing and not some scared little mouse that jumps at her own shadows. The girl’d been useless. I’m actually insulted that you would interrupt my lunch with her.”

He accepted his fully loaded hotdog, drink, and bag of ranch chips, and made his way to a nearby bench.

“Penny has been a very successful project of mine for nearly two years. I hand trained her myself. I don’t believe—”

“Then maybe feed her once in a while before she blows away with the wind. I’m a bit embarrassed for you.”

Something cracked in the background.
“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying.” He took a bite of his hotdog. “She’s supposed to be representing you, and from what I gathered, she makes you look weak and pathetic. Just being helpful.”

He hung up. Then he waited.

He could have counted the exact moment from the time he cut communication to the second Penny stormed from the building on one hand. She held a box of her things against her chest and looked about two seconds from bursting into tears. He almost felt bad for her.

Dimitri rose. He tossed his wrappers into a trash bin and went to her.

“Penny.”

Her head snapped up. Bits of pale blonde blew across her flushed, wet cheeks. Her gray eyes blinked, then widened.

“You!” Her items were slammed down on a marble ledge making up the flowerbeds lining the stairway to the front doors. “You got me fired!”

Dimitri nodded. “I did.”

Tears skated down her cheeks, but her expression was livid. “Why would you do that?”

He held out a napkin that she ignored. He sighed and stuffed it into her hand anyway. She pitched it aside angrily. The wind caught it and it drifted out of sight.

“All right,” he mumbled. “I understand you’re upset—”

“I am … pissed!” she spat, almost screamed. “This job was my life! I worked my ass off to keep that woman happy. I sacrificed everything…”

“Breathe, Penny,” he murmured softly when she began to wheeze.

“Fuck you!” she shrieked at him. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

He had to remind himself she had every right to be angry when his own temper prickled.

“I got you away from a man-eating beast,” he snarled back. “Tell me you actually liked the way you were being treated.”

She said nothing for a long time, but the anger didn’t dim from her eyes. They continued to shine like she wanted nothing more than to kick him in the crotch.

“I needed that job,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “I needed that job!” she said louder. “You had no right to decide anything for me. And to think I actually thought you were one of the decent ones. Why would you do this?”

“Because you would never have left and she would never have let you go otherwise.”

Penny blinked. “What?”

“I want you to work for me.”

Her jaw swung open so wide, he could see all the way down to her tonsils. “What?”

“I need an assistant, a good one. I don’t like searching for things and you seem qualified.”

“I
seem
qualified?” She stared at him like he was a moron. “You had me fired because I
seem
qualified?”

Dimitri exhaled, patience waning. “Do you want the job or not?”

She gasped, disgust curling her lips. “Yes, I want the bloody job! I clearly need one now, thanks to you.”

“Good. You can start now.”

He started turning on his heels.

“Hold on a minute,” she called after him. “You haven’t told me what I’m getting paid.”

He paused and glanced back. “What were you getting paid before?”

She hesitated. “Twenty-five an hour?”

“Okay, double that.”

Penny blinked, quickly caught herself. “I mean, thirty, plus full benefits.”

“Done.”

She bit down her lip, poorly concealing the grin glowing in her eyes.

“You can add an hour lunch to that,” he continued.

“And weekends off?” she pressed, carefully, slowly, a little fearfully.

Dimitri nodded. “Fine.”

She gave a little gasp, something between an exhale and a squeak. But she must have remembered she was supposed to be a professional, because she straightened quickly and rearranged her features to appear stoic.

“Deal, but I want all that in writing.”

“Write it up and I’ll sign it.”

She snatched up her box. “Lead the way, sir.”

They left her car. He refused to get into it and she didn’t seem eager to have him in it. Instead, they grabbed a cab that he hadn’t realized he had nowhere to take until they were crammed into the backseat.

“Sir?” Penny prompted when Dimitri sat squinting at the back of the driver’s seat, trying to determine what was supposed to happen next. “Was there somewhere you wanted to go?”

He didn’t. All of this was new to him. He hadn’t really thought any of it out. Penny hadn’t been part of his plan that day. He’d gone to have lunch and think over what he wanted to do with Ava later when he picked her up. Penny had been a surprise.