Unwanted Sacrifices (Russkaya Mafiya Book 3) (13 page)

BOOK: Unwanted Sacrifices (Russkaya Mafiya Book 3)
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“Mr. Masterson, a pleasure,” he says genuinely and shakes Tate’s hand.

“Mr. Tsepov, thank you for collecting us.”

“Anything for an old friend.” He turns to me, “Nikoli.”

“Roman.” I nod back. It’s custom for people to call Tate by his last name as a show of respect. I’m his right hand so they all know me by my first name instead.

They get into the back seat, more than likely to make small talk over one of Tate’s restaurants here in London and I climb up front. The drive feels like it takes forever to get to the office building where we’re supposed to be meeting this piece of scum for our afternoon meeting. I wonder if he’ll be able to tell that we literally flew all night long to get here or if Tate will play it off like we’re here on a leisure trip, just popping around everywhere, vacationing.

“Would you like us to wait for you, Mr. Masterson?” Roman’s driver inquires as he opens the Boss’ door for him.

“No thanks, we’ll be fine. I don’t want to hold you up; it was more than generous of Mr. Tsepov to meet us.”

I tip the driver a twenty and nod my leave to Roman. He shakes Tate’s hand again and then we’re making our way inside the massive glass building. I don’t know what the hell Tate’s thinking letting our ride take off without us.

“Can I help you, sir?” A cute little brunette with a British accent asks as we approach the vast white desk. Her eyes scream she’s interested as she sends us both playful smiles. She couldn’t handle three hours with either of us in this lifestyle, even if we let her.

“Mr. Masterson,” Tate replies. “I have a meeting.”

“Oh, you’re Mr. Masterson! Yes, I have you scheduled to go in straight away. Just let me page the PA in the back.” We stand silently, listening to her announce our arrival to someone else over a tiny headset. “You’re all set, sir; Kelly will show you back.” She gestures towards a gorgeous red head for us to follow.

“Right this way please.” Kelly’s shapely legs carry her quickly down a long hallway decorated with simple paintings in blues, greens and greys, not giving us any time to get off course. She stops in front of a massive black door around fifteen feet tall with a large silver cylinder as a door handle. It reminds me of a super-sized refrigerator. “I’m the PA in charge here, so if you would like a refreshment just let me know, and I’ll have someone fetch it for you.”

“Thank you, Kelly, but we’re both fine right now.” Tate responds automatically and I almost argue. Having just woken up; I could use a bottle of water or a Gatorade. I bite my tongue and flash a fake smile to Kelly.

“Very well then, Mr. Chek will be right in. Please feel free to make yourself comfortable on one of the sofas and thank you for visiting Perfectcore.”

She slides a badge over a scanner in the wall, types in a code, and then pulls on the large handle. The huge door slides open easily, revealing a massive room. I feel like I’m entering a scene from the “Hunger Games” or something with all of this. The entire building has an oversized, wasted space feel to it.

For all I know, Sabrina could be locked up somewhere here right now, but I’d never get to find her without a fucking badge and code. I’m sure the desk girls follow a certain protocol in the case of threats, so I’ll have to figure out something other than that so I can give the place a search.

Tate and I each take a seat on the same white couch as a united front not to be toyed with.

“Stay quiet,” Tate mumbles so only I can hear him.

“You’re joking.”

“No, I’m serious. I want you to stay silent and take in as many details as possible. I’ll do the talking.”

“Yes, Boss.”

It makes me livid inside, knowing that I can’t confront this loser myself. This could be the only time I get to see him up close like this and Tate is forcing me to stay quiet. I don’t want to speak up and defy him since I have utterly no fucking idea what his plan is.

I guess now that I have a name and will soon find out more information on him I can always hunt him down later if nothing comes of this. The brass knuckles feel like they’re burning a hole in my jacket pocket, begging me to unleash them and take my vengeance.

“Gentlemen.” A voice rings out from behind us and I instantly jump to my feet on high alert. Tate rests his hand on my arm and leisurely turns around.

“Thank you for meeting us.”

“It’s my honor to have the great Mr. Masterson in my humble abode.” Chek approaches us wearing a slimy looking grin. “And my what a feral guard dog you have with you.” He chuckles and Tate flashes him an evil smile.

“You can never be too careful these days, always on alert.”

“Yes, I can imagine.” He comes around and sits on the couch adjacent to us. I stay standing, just staring at him, and hoping I make him feel an ounce of discomfort.

Tate chuckles, lightly tapping my forearm.

“I apologize,” he directs towards the shitbag then looks me in the eyes. “Nikoli, sit!” he barks and it clicks for me.

Ahhh, I see. Tate wants me to play dumb obedient lap dog so the imbecile doesn’t feel like I’ll step out of line. I guess if I appear ignorant, then he may possibly let his guard down a smidge.

I’ll bite, Tatkiv.
 

“Boss.” Grunting, I sit back on the sofa, appearing relaxed.

The weasel looking man clears his throat, “Call me Chek.”

“Very well then, Chek, call me Mr. Masterson.”

Biting my tongue, I have to concentrate not to laugh. Tate’s being a dick, so this will make it much more fun for me. At least he isn’t attempting to be polite straight away or I probably wouldn’t be able to restrain myself.

“As you wish, I’m here to serve.”

“Right, well, I’m hoping you’ll be able to do just that, and help me out with a problem I have.”

“Oh?” Chek leans forward, clearly intrigued as to what Tate could want with him.

“Yes, it’s my wife.”

“Certainly she must be perfect, being married to a man of your stature.”

“Actually that’s the problem; she’s not.”

“I find it hard to believe you would have married her if she wasn’t everything you wanted. Your wealth could offer you many options.”

“Funny you say that, Chek. My mother actually wanted to purchase an obedient Russian girl for me to take as a bride, but I just had to have this little American.”

“Ah! They are interesting creatures, aren’t they? Tell me, what is the problem you’re having with her?”

“She’s ill-mannered, outspoken, taking off to do whatever she pleases when it suits her, not servicing me when it’s needed… She’s in desperate need to be taught how to be the wife I should have: obedient and pliant. I’ve heard from a few
associates
that Perfectcore is just the place to go for those services. Am I being pompous or does it sound like a reasonable request to you?”

“No, of course you’re not being pompous, Mr. Masterson! A man of your wealth deserves to have what he wants! We, as men, should have what we want, do you not agree?” Chek turns to me and I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I draw blood as I nod my agreeance. I’ve never agreed to such bullshit as this before, but if it finds me my love, then so be it. If I happen to discover this sick fuck tried to change anything about her, I’ll chop his fucking legs off and drown him in the closest body of water.

“Great, when is the soonest you can fix her? Should I bring her here? She’s out spending my money as we speak.”

“I can start my training almost immediately. You are able to get her here willingly? I won’t need to have her-ahmmm-acquired, or anything?”

“This is the best news I’ve heard all day! I wasn’t aware of you offering pick up or I would have called sooner. So, no, actually I believe the easiest way would be to call her back to the jet. I can tell her we’re flying to Paris for dresses and she will drop whatever she’s doing to meet us. Do you have an SUV or something you can bring to the airport so it’s easy to transport her?”

“Yes, absolutely not a problem. We can take my vehicle. I have a BMW SUV that should work out nicely.”

“Great. I believe I have her Xanax on board; will that be enough to sedate her for the transfer? Oh and have your PA give your account information to Nikoli, he’ll have my accountant wire some money over.”

“Actually I have something stronger that I keep in stock. It’ll work a lot quicker and I can bring it along. It’s in a liquid form, either I could insert it in her while you distract her or you may feel more comfortable using a syringe. Either is fine.”

“I’ll do it. I don’t think she would expect anything if I was to just hug her and then stab her with it. I mean, once you’re done with her, she’ll forgive me for it, right?”

“Why, yes, of course! And don’t worry about the money Mr. Masterson, let me do this for you free of charge. I think we could have a great relationship ahead of us. In fact, I believe many of my associates will be pleasantly surprised and relieved to find out your quite easy to work with.”

“Thank you, Chek. Shall we?” Tate stands and Chek practically jumps up to follow him.

“Shall I have one of my associates ride along to help load the body?”

Tate laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s heard. “Chek, if it will make you feel better, then sure, bring along whomever you wish, but clearly Nikoli can load her. Hell, I can as well; she’s a tiny thing.” Chek strikes me as the type who’s too smart to go alone, self-preservation and all.

 

BE THE WOLF

Tate makes a fake
phone call to Emily or shit, it could be a real phone call for all I know. Anyway, the person he speaks to plays along and Tate makes a huge deal about meeting us at his plane immediately. If I didn’t know he was screwing around, even I would have thought it was real. Kind of scary just how good an actor my Boss really is, and I guess that’s why he’s in charge.

Turns out I’m right, as Chek has a ‘driver’ take us to the airport. We’re not fools either; the driver’s boxy, muscular shoulder build clearly shows us that he’s not accustomed to just using a steering wheel. No worries though. With the anger I’m harboring, it’ll be like Christmas morning if I get to use some of it up on this thug.

As soon as I sat back in the meeting and paid attention like Tate wanted, I could hear Chek’s accent. He’s definitely been to the south and frequently. I’d bet he’s there half of the year with how pronounced it is when he speaks.

I get it now why Tate told me to let him do the talking. Chek played right into the palm of his hand. I never would have been able to keep it together for that long without smashing his face into the coffee table and demanding a location.

I’m so damn proud of Tate getting Chek to go back to our jet. I don’t exactly know his plan, but I have a good idea of it. I just hope we’re on the same page like we usually are. I wonder how it’s going to go down when Cheky boy discovers Emily really isn’t at the plane waiting for us like an eager little gold digging wife.

She’d flip her shit if she heard how Tate just spoke about her. Maybe I should tell her after this all blows over with, just so she can torture him a little about it, keep things interesting for them

My body stays hyper alert as we drive, just in case they get brave and attempt to take us somewhere else. I’m on pins and needles with excitement knowing we have him right where we want him. But it almost seems too easy, and it turns my stomach. Tate and Chek make small talk as we go, and I can tell Chek is getting more comfortable with us as he sits back comfortably with his shoulders relaxed and his face at ease.

Can’t wait to be able to break it.

Smug fucker, treating women as if they can be programmed and changed to a man’s liking. We’re the lucky ones to be given a chance from them, and yet it’s assholes like him that make women hate us. They make women believe that all men want them to change.

Tate plays the part of aloof, spoiled Mafiya brat well. I guess in reality he is a wealthy Mafiya brat, but he works his ass off and he’s very street smart. Most people wouldn’t get that from him. He tends to come off as cocky and demanding, but through the years, I’ve learned that almost everything is a face when it comes to him. He only takes his mask off for me, Viktor, and Emily—no one else.

“So this wife, what else would you like taught to her? I can make her submissive, break her in for you to do with as you please sexually. If you just like to play with her, I can break her in pain, or I can do a variety. You pretty much tell me what your dream wife would be like and I’ll do my best to shape her that way.”

His choices make me want to puke. Did he do a variety on my sister or is he doing one of these things to Sabrina? He acts like we’re ordering party supplies or something. There’s no fucking variety pack when it comes to women. You love and cherish them—the end!

“Speaking of that, how exactly are you able to mold them? I really don’t care what’s done to her. I’m just curious about the process.”

“It’s very in-depth, but I can give you the gist. We have a center that the women are kept at and I have only a few trusted associates keep an eye on them when I can’t personally be there with them. I work with them daily unless they’re learning a particularly taxing lesson, then it’s a few times a week. They are fed, but she can be thinner when she comes home if you’d like.”

BOOK: Unwanted Sacrifices (Russkaya Mafiya Book 3)
3.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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