The Rule of Luck (7 page)

He took a long swallow from his glass, then gazed into it as if deciding what to say. “Yes, but it will be difficult. TransWorld has a flawless record: zero incidents for the entirety of their five-year contract. When shuttling human cargo between Mars and Earth, the slightest mishap can be catastrophic. For the organization in charge, the result is complete ruin. As admirable as TransWorld's record may be, our intel suggests their business model is not entirely ethical. If we can expose their methodology as the situation warrants, we win the contract.”

“How does my mother factor into this?”

“She heads TransWorld's Research and Development department.”

That brought me up short. I rested my spoon in the bowl. “My mother works for TransWorld? I always thought…I mean…This is confusing.”

“In what way?”

I frowned, not sure where to start. “Families have stories and legends. In mine, my parents were the doomed fairy tale. Love at first sight, married within a few weeks of meeting. They applied to the Shared Hope program and had me nine months later. My mother went back to school to finish her geology degree. She received a grant to study the rock formations on Mars. We were all supposed to go. Instead, she supposedly died in a mining accident during a work placement in Chile. My father went crazy at the loss and was declared mentally unstable, and I was raised by my paternal great-grandmother and grandmother.” I stopped there, feeling like I'd reopened a wound I'd believed was already healed. “Why would she lie?”

“I don't know, Ms. Sevigny.” Petriv put down his glass and met my eyes across the table. “I don't know why parents do the things they do to their children.”

I looked away, afraid I would cry—the last thing I wanted to do in front of him. I picked up my spoon again, promptly fumbled it, and then watched as it bounced across the table and onto the floor, splattering soup on the red linen tablecloth. Mortified, I leaned down to pick it up. Petriv caught my wrist, stopping me.

“Leave it. You don't approve of it anyway. It's no loss.” He pushed the bread basket toward me.

His kindness unnerved me. Crime lords weren't supposed to be kind. Kindness might make me think he was a real human being. I took a slice of bread and tried to recover. “What does my mother do for TransWorld?”

“Monique is one of the world's leading geneticists and was once at the forefront of Modified Human research. I need to unravel how TransWorld applies her work to their transit program.”

“Space travel and genetics don't seem like they go together.”

“No? What if it were easier for humans to travel through the tri-system? Right now, our reach goes no farther than Jupiter. What if we were better able to survive the cold vacuum of space? Suppose we could enter self-sustained hibernation for weeks or months at a time? We could extend our grasp to the outer edge of the solar system. Her research looks into all these aspects and more, I suspect.”

Shit, my mother was a genius. Could that explain why she'd left? I tried to imagine such a woman thriving in my tech-averse family and couldn't. But to fake an accident to get away?

“If her research saves lives, how is that a bad thing?”

He shook his head sadly. “I'm afraid I've made it sound nobler than it truly is. It's not the lives they're saving that concern me, but how they're achieving those ends. My priority is to expose TransWorld's actions and eliminate them as a contender for the contract. I believe you're the key. I just need to discover what door you unlock.”

“You can't ask me to destroy everything she's worked for. I want to get to know her first, then decide.”

“You may not like what you find.”

I tilted my head and studied him, puzzled. “What aren't you telling me?”

He smiled ruefully and offered a shrug. “We Russians love our tragedies. We embrace our sorrows, then we fight our way free. My hope is you will feel the same.” He sipped his drink and met my eyes.

I fought not to drown in his blue gaze. “Tell me.”

“It's because of your mother that you're on the no-child list. Through her direct influence, you've been blacklisted from the Shared Hope program. And to change that, you may have to go to extreme lengths.”

I opened my mouth. No sound came out. I tried again. “Extreme lengths?”

“Unfortunately, yes. When you learn the truth, you may have to kill her.”

I sat in my chair for quite a while. Not moving. Not thinking. Just waiting for the punchline, or for the other shoe to drop. Yet when he merely looked at me over the rim of his glass, I knew there was no punchline to this particular joke.

“I'm sorry. I think I misheard you,” was the safest thing I could think to say.

Petriv set down his drink. “No, you didn't. But that would be the worst possible scenario, and not my objective. Any move in that direction would jeopardize the award process and delay my future plans. We want to investigate TransWorld and we only have two weeks until the contract is awarded. After the two weeks, you and I will part ways. You will be paid for your time and your blacklisted status will be revoked. Once we come to terms, I will provide you with the documentation I have in my possession, which should answer any questions you have regarding your mother.”

“Hold on! First you say my mother's responsible for my blacklisted status and now you want to talk business like it's not a huge issue? You can't lay this on me and not expect me to react.”

“Agreed, but you've limited our lunch to an hour. I apologize if that has caused my powers of persuasion to include high drama and threats.”

Fuck. He'd torn the ground out from beneath me once again. I took a breath and fought to get myself back on track. I could freak out later on my own time.

“I appreciate your candor. I still don't know what I can do for you. If she hasn't contacted me in over twenty years, I can't see why she'd take an interest now that I've been approached by the leader of the Tsarist Consortium.”

“I'm flattered you think so, but I'm not entirely in charge. At least, not yet.” His tone was light, but I heard an edge to his voice. All was not well in the Red Mafia. “At this juncture, what's important is your card reading skills. That will open doors to places I can't enter.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

He smiled. “Not everyone is as enamored of me as I wish they were.”

“So you want to show me off at parties?”

“One particular party. It's hosted by a member of TransWorld's Board of Directors, which is the prime reason I can't get inside. Other key employees will also be in attendance—not your mother, but someone who reports to her. That employee needs to be discredited, which you will do with a reading. Without him, she'll lose control of her most valuable resource.”

“I don't do fake readings. What the cards say, they say. My reputation is all I have and I've worked hard to build it.”

“And how would the news you were arrested at the fertility clinic help your reputation? News that took an enormous amount of resources to scrub from the CN-net, I might add.”

I scowled at him. “Don't twist the situation. Besides, you may not get your desired outcome. Anything I see in the cards could take months to occur. If you want fast results, this probably isn't the best way to get them.”

“We'll play the situation by ear. What I have in mind may not need to be so dramatic.”

“I thought you liked drama.”

His lips quirked in a smile that let loose a storm of butterflies in my stomach. “Touché, Ms. Sevigny. Read your cards as you see fit.”

“Already planned on it. If it's a private event, I'll need an invitation.”

“You've already received one. My understanding is you turned it down.”

It took at a moment to make the connection. Once I did, it took everything in me to avoid rolling my eyes. Would the man constantly be two steps ahead of me? “The fact that you're raking your fingers through my private life is not appreciated. In the future, please refrain from doing so. I don't have t-mods, so I don't share indiscriminately across the CN-net. If you want to know something, ask me. I'll either tell you or I won't, and you'll have to accept it.”

“Duly noted. Now, your invitation. It's not too late to accept the trip to Denver.”

“Yes, it is. It's in two days and my travel permits have expired. I'd never make it.” I'd been asked to offer my services as one of the items up for bid at a charity auction for the developing rainforests on Mars. It was great PR and I wanted to go, but I couldn't afford the trip and didn't have the time—the fertility debacle had taken everything I had. I never would have guessed TransWorld was connected to the auction. Then again, I supposed it made sense.

“Nonissue,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “The Tsarist Consortium will cover all expenses and ensure you're outfitted with whatever you need. That includes any revenue lost due to closing your shop to perform at our behest.”

I fought not to look impressed. “Aside from discrediting this employee of my mother's, what else will I have to do?”

“That is up to my discretion.”

“What if you want something I can't agree to?”

“We won't kill you, if that's what you're wondering.”

I hadn't been, but since he'd brought it up, now it was foremost in my mind.

“If the terms prove disagreeable, our partnership ends and all contact will be terminated.” He sipped his drink and met my gaze across the table. “However, your blacklisted status won't be revoked.”

I looked down at the untouched bread on my plate. I pushed it away, no longer hungry. I felt like I hovered on the edge of something impossible. I concentrated on the feeling in my gut that demanded I leap at Petriv's offer, consequences be damned. When I followed my gut, good things didn't always happen, but somehow, in the end, I came out on top. While giving Petriv the keys to the universe might help me in the short term, what I decided today would impact countless lives for years to come. Maybe I was being melodramatic, but the pressure felt so intense, I wanted to scream.

“What happens if you win the contract?”

“We begin running our star cruisers to Mars. Money will be made and everyone goes home happy,” Petriv answered with a shrug.

I shook my head and leaned forward. “Not good enough. You said I have no right to ask this, but I need to know. If my agreeing to this gains the Tsarist Consortium the Earth-to-Mars transportation contract, what other plans does this put into motion?”

Petriv's expression grew serious, adding the weight of years to his face. Not age, but experience and perhaps a little exhaustion. It turned his attractiveness into something more compelling. “People have died to learn the information you're requesting so casually.”

“I need to know.”

“And your final decision rests on this? Not meeting your mother, resolving your blacklisted status, or the potential financial compensation?”

I nodded. “Yes, it does.”

“If I learn that what I've said has gone beyond these walls and the source is traced to you, you will die. I will kill you myself. Do you understand?”

I held my breath, feeling like there was a dagger pressed against my chest. Like nothing before in my life, everything hinged on this moment. I nodded again.

“It is the Tsarist Consortium's ultimate goal to replace One Gov. This is the first step.”

“And if you do replace One Gov, how will things be different from the way they are now? What's going to change?”

His eyes held mine and wouldn't let go. “Everything.”

I let out the breath I'd been holding and felt the bubble inside me pop. Calmness returned. Not the answer I expected, yet I could see it was the truth. The fact that he'd told me spoke volumes. He had more invested in this than I could fully understand.

“I'll do it.”

The meal wrapped up quickly. I picked at lunch—a sampling of Russian dishes I wasn't familiar with. Petriv mentioned the names, but I couldn't focus. My thoughts were on the damage control I needed to do to explain my twenty-four hour disappearance.

Petriv grew silent. Maybe he regretted the bombshell he'd dropped. Though for all I knew, he could be zooming around the CN-net, having a million conversations with others. The thought irritated me. He'd gone through all this work to “get” me and now that he had my agreement, he'd lost interest in me.

I set down my cutlery with deliberate care. Any harder and I'd come across as angry. I surreptitiously checked my bracelet; the hour was up. “I think we're finished here. I'd like to go home and get things in order. You've probably started on the arrangements for Denver and can contact me with the details. I'll need a dress, by the way. Based on your research, I'm sure you'll pick whatever's most appropriate.”

I stood. Petriv rose with me. “One of my people will escort you home.”

“Don't bother. I'll order a pod and wait at the launchpad.”

“I insist. This isn't the best neighborhood. Besides, we're on a schedule now.”

“Fine,” I relented.

I hurried to the door, wanting to reconnect with real life before whatever Petriv offered swallowed me whole. I hadn't walked more than a few feet when he was at my side, tucking my arm in his as he had earlier.

“At least allow me to walk you out. You're so determined to be independent. One would think you'd been alone most of your life.”

“You've done your research. You should know.”

“The unfortunate thing with research is you have no idea about the person behind the details. You can never know which assumptions are correct or where you may have gone wrong.” Petriv turned to me. I found myself standing closer to him than necessary and gazing up into a look so intense, I shivered. “Hopefully in time, I'll see beyond the details.”

Yup, definitely not something I should be hearing. “As I said before, this arrangement is strictly professional. That means this is inappropriate.” I slipped my arm from his, though I admit it pained me a little to do so.

“Of course. I always honor my business relationships, Ms. Sevigny.”

He took my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing my palm. Gods, was the man even listening to me? I felt myself blush and snatched my hand away. He straightened, and with a faint smile, stepped in so close, my nose almost brushed the hollow of his throat. Before I knew it, he reached over my shoulder to lock the door behind me. My heart thudded in my chest and I held myself still, hardly daring to breathe. A moment ago, it seemed he couldn't wait to be rid of me. Now he was too close and looking at me in a way that sent traitorous shocks of heat through my body.

“This doesn't seem very businesslike,” I whispered.

“Perhaps”—his gaze went to my mouth and stayed there. He moved even closer until there was no more room between us—“it merely depends on the ground rules.”

“There are no ground rules. I didn't realize we needed them,” I said, my voice suddenly coming out breathier than I intended. I raised my hands, planning to push him away. Instead, they seemed to have a mind of their own as they ran down the hard muscles of his chest under his shirt. Every lustful thought I'd been suppressing suddenly jumped to the surface.

“One should always have rules, Ms. Sevigny. How would we conduct ourselves without them?” he chided softly, eyes still on my lips.

My throat went dry. “I have a boyfriend.”

“I know.” His tone seemed to say he didn't care in the least.

“That means this needs to stop.”

“Does it?” His lips curved in a wicked smile that made my heart take off like a frightened rabbit. Then his hands were on my hips, pressing me against the locked door. He lifted me until I was up on my tiptoes. I gasped and my hands went to his broad shoulders for balance. “Or perhaps it means further negotiation is required.”

His mouth descended on mine with bruising speed, as if he'd reached the end of his patience and could hold back no longer. His lips were soft, but his body was hard and demanding. He crushed my breasts against his chest. Helpless, my eyes shuddered closed against the onslaught. His tongue invaded my mouth, and I could taste the vodka he'd been drinking. That, and something else: desire. Hot enough to burn me alive. This man wanted me. It wasn't solely because of access to my mother. It was more than that. He wanted me in a way I hadn't felt from a man in a long time. Not even in those first days with Roy when everything was new and exciting had I felt like this. I was about to be devoured by man who wouldn't stop until he'd taken everything he could from me.

My knees turned to water and his hands on me were the only things keeping me on my feet. Without intending to, I angled my head so the kiss could deepen. My tongue stroked his, meeting his wildness with my own. I shoved my fingers through his dark hair, pulling his mouth to mine and pressing my body back against his. I felt like I was on fire, my bones melting under my skin. His hands were on my hips, then lower, fingers digging into my thighs. I felt my skirt hiked upward, his leg slipped between mine. He ground his thigh into me with a pressure that made me moan into his mouth. Only his hands gripping the backs of my thighs, and the door behind me, kept me from falling.

That brought a sliver of reality back. What was I doing? Had I lost my mind? I needed to slow this down or stop it entirely before I did something I'd regret.

“Is this how you negotiate all your deals?” I gasped out, tearing my mouth from his and trying to push him away. Difficult, when my hands were tangled in his hair. “Why did we even bother with lunch?”

“Because I was hungry,” he answered, lips now devouring my neck with sharp kisses. Then his tongue ran down its length, lingering in the hollow of my throat. For a few moments, he stilled and all I felt was his breath against my skin. I shivered. Then I felt him undo the first few buttons of my blouse. A heartbeat later, his mouth had found my right breast. “You've no idea what I could do with you right now.”

I arched against his mouth, my back bowing deeply. His tongue strokes turned my nipple into a tight, taut peak. He followed with his teeth, nipping with enough pressure to bring me within a hair's touch of pain. I didn't want him to stop.