Sweet Depravity: A Dark Mafia Romance Page 4

  I shrugged. “My grandfather passed away. It’s my inheritance.”

  “If it’s your inheritance, then why are you pawning them?”

  “I’m a graduate student. Tuition trumps sentimentality.”

  He rubbed his chin. “It’s still early in the day, all I have on hand in cash is about eleven thousand. Take it or leave it.”

  Eleven thousand?

  Thousand? Eleven of them?

  Oh. My. God.

  How much money do you have to have to casually forget cufflinks worth eleven thousand dollars?

  Stunned, I found myself nodding.

  He snatched up the cufflinks. “Wait here.”

  When he returned, I watched him count out the cash, swallowing as the stack got higher and higher. It would have taken me half a year to earn this much in tips at my crappy bar job. In a daze, I filled out the necessary paperwork before shoving the money and pawn slip into my Hello Kitty purse. Silly me, thinking an expensive pair of cufflinks would be worth about seven hundred and fifty bucks and wouldn’t be missed.

  I wonder what kind of punishment you got for stealing eleven thousand dollars from a man like Vaska Rostov?

  Chapter 5

  Vaska

  I reached for the leather-wrapped steering wheel and noticed my loose cuff. I patted my palm over the inner pocket of my suit jacket and found nothing; I must have left my cufflinks on Mary’s vanity. If Dimitri hadn’t been waiting for me at the warehouse to take care of a pressing issue with the Petrov brothers, I would have turned around. I could definitely think of worse ways to spend a morning than in Mary’s bed. I shifted in my seat. Damn, just the thought of that woman and I was already getting hard.

  Something about this morning was—different, unusual. There was this clawing feeling in my chest that something in my life had just changed, shifted unexpectedly. It wasn’t a sense of doom, but rather a sense of… something. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it was like that crackle of energy you feel in the air just before a thunderstorm. You have this primal sense that something is about to happen. That pressure was building and about to be released in a ball of energy and chaos.

  I chuckled. A ball of energy and chaos. What a perfect way to describe Mary. She practically hummed with sensual energy kept barely in check by a chaotic contradiction of innocence and sin.

  It wasn’t surprising that I’d fucked a beautiful woman within moments of meeting her. Most men were bumbling idiots who didn’t know how to talk to—or handle—a woman. I wasn’t most men. I knew what they wanted to hear, what they craved. I could read them like a book and give them precisely what they desired. Yet, this time was different. Mary was different.

  For the first time in my life, I wanted to stay in bed with a woman after I’d satisfied us both. And it wasn’t just so that I could fuck her again once my cock recovered, although I certainly would have. It was something more dangerous. I wanted to hold her. Cuddle her close and watch her sleep. I wanted to press my hand to her heart and feel it beat while I listened to the soft sounds of her breathing.

  Never in my life had I craved intimacy with a woman like I did with Mary. It made little sense. I had literally never laid eyes on the woman before this morning, and suddenly I was fighting the urge to ditch the condom and ride her bareback, something I’d never done in my life since I’d lost my virginity at fourteen to a very willing teacher. I hated having even a thin piece of rubber between us.

  I drove up to the window at the drive-thru Starbucks.

  The woman at the counter giggled as she handed me the two large black coffees.

  I winked back, which only made her giggle more as her cheeks reddened. She was pretty in that suburban American blonde sort of way.

  As I drove off, I reached for one of the coffee cups and noticed a phone number and the name Alice with a heart over the ‘i.’

  I shook my head. The only thing women loved more than a bad boy was a bad boy with money. Between my expensive car, suits, and tattoos, I fit the fantasy better than most. Any other time, I would have turned the car around and coaxed her out of that green apron and into my car for a quick blowjob, but not today. My brow furrowed as I realized I wasn’t interested. You’d think it was because I’d just fucked my brains out not an hour earlier, but that had never stopped me before.

  It wasn’t thoughts of a cute skinny blonde that played across my mind, but rather a feisty brunette with full pink lips, indigo blue eyes, and curves that could bring a man to his knees.

  I parked behind Dimitri’s Mercedes, which was still a few blocks away from the warehouse, and reached for the brown coffee tray before stepping out. As I walked to our meeting location, I thought again of Mary. Fuck. This could get complicated. From what I could see, Dimitri had more than a passing interest in her roommate, Emma. I’d known him since our school days, and the man had never before installed a security system in a woman’s apartment as a gift. Jewelry, flowers, even a car once, all yes, but a security system? No. Jewelry said I want to fuck you. A security system said I care about you… and I want to fuck you.

  I sighed. It would probably be for the best if I kept my encounter with Mary under wraps for now. Strolling into the warehouse, I extended my arm, offering him a coffee. He snatched it up with what I could only describe as a snarl. “What has you in such a foul mood?” I asked before taking a sip of the hot, bitter brew.

  He lifted the lid of his coffee before responding. “I left a warm bed to deal with these two morons.”

  Setting my coffee to the side, I put my car keys in my pocket and rubbed my hands together. It was cold as balls in this empty warehouse, but it couldn’t be avoided. This wasn’t exactly the corporate office conference room type of meeting this morning, not with our business.

  When you dealt in illegal arms, desolate warehouses and empty airport hangars were usually your office. Today we had a meeting with the idiot Petrov brothers. The morons were trying to palm off some counterfeit guns on us. Not only were they pissing in our backyard, but they were flooding the market with poorly made knockoffs, which was bad for business.

  Casting a glance in Dimitri’s direction, I flat-out lied to my best friend. “At least yours wasn’t empty,” I complained, which wasn’t entirely untrue, since technically I had slept alone in my cold bed last night. It was this morning in Mary’s bed that had warmed me up.

  Dimitri laughed. “Karina mad at you again?”

  Karina was a rather problematic high-end escort I often hired. I wasn’t exactly the boyfriend type, so escorts made life easy, usually, but Karina was nothing but bullshit drama. She had a habit of getting shitfaced drunk and throwing things like knives.

  I sighed. “I’m getting too old for this shit. At first it was fun but now… hell, I don’t know.”

  That part was at least true. I used to think women like Karina added some fun and excitement to my life, but after this morning I realized it was all just negative energy drama. The genuine excitement was the kind that came from being with a firebrand like Mary. A woman with spirit and intelligence.

  Dimitri clasped me around the neck. “If we are to get old, we will get old together, my friend, and thanks for overseeing that task this morning.”

  I turned slightly away so my intuitive friend could not read my expression. “Actually, I should be thanking you. That roommate of hers is something else.”

  “You and she would probably get along. She shares your taste in cheap liquor.”

  Oh, we definitely got along.

  And she certainly shared my taste in something—kinky-as-fuck, mind-blowing sex.

  Changing the subject, I said, “Let’s get this over with. There’s a rare steak and a bottle of Chianti with our name on it at Gibson’s.”

  He checked his watch. “They’re late.”

  Defying all the logic of an off-the-radar, private meeting place, the idiot Petrov brothers roared into the loading dock driving a ridiculous metallic gold Ferrari.

  “Jesus Christ,”
I cursed under my breath, shaking my head before sharing a sympathetic, annoyed glance with Dimitri.

  The Petrov brothers emerged from the vehicle, wearing matching white and red Adidas tracksuits.

  Dimitri shifted closer and asked, “You still carry that .30-caliber Tokarev with you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good. Shoot me.”

  “I’d rather shoot them, but this is a new suit.”

  “Vaska Lukovitch! Dimitri Antonovich!” the brothers called out in unison.

  Ignoring them, I paid closer attention to the three thugs they brought with them.

  “My friends! You are looking good,” said one brother.

  Dimitri and I both stayed silent. It was a useful tactic; most people talked too much. You could be significantly more intimidating for what you didn’t say as opposed to what you did.

  The only thing more ludicrous than their car was their appearance and the fact they had deliberately purchased the same luxury watch as Dimitri. Christ, save me from moronic posers. Seriously, I left Mary’s bed for this? It stretched the imagination how these two had managed to get their hands on two crates of ORSIS-CT20s, the latest and best Russian sniper rifles, even counterfeit ones.

  One of the brothers, I didn’t know which—they both looked and acted the same to me—said, “Do you like our ride?”

  Dimitri smirked. “It’s a great way to spend twice as much as for a Mercedes SL550.”

  I snorted. “With none of that annoying good engineering or sleek style.”

  “As much as I’d love to chat about cars and watches in a freezing warehouse all morning, I really do have other matters to attend to today,” Dimitri said, sipping his coffee.

  I nodded. “Anatoly, Andrei, if you would be so kind as to show us the merchandise? We do have other matters to attend to this morning.”

  With thinly veiled patience, we watched the struggle to unload and then open the crates.

  I drew out my silver flask and unscrewed the cap, taking a swig before handing it to Dimitri. It was a little early, even for me, but there was no way I was going to survive this encounter with the Petrov brothers completely sober.

  Dimitri took a swig and hid a rough cough behind the back of his hand. “Damn you and that rotgut Moskovskaya vodka you like!”

  I smiled. No one appreciated good vodka. I kept things real by drinking the vodka of the people, not that elitist crap Dimitri and our friends, Gregor and Mikhail, preferred.

  It drew our attention back to the brothers who had each pulled out gold-plated Desert Eagle handguns and were pointing them at each other.

  I sighed. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”

  Dimitri stepped forward. “Gentlemen, if I may?”

  He picked up the crowbar and made quick work of the case lid. As we both pushed aside the straw packing, Dimitri snatched up the first exposed rifle. After flipping it over, he handed it to me. I looked to the left of the receiver but didn’t see the expected Izhevsk factory stamp of an arrow in a triangle. Instead, there was a bunch of Latin numbers. They were fakes from Afghanistan.

  The Petrov brothers had truly reached an epic level of stupid to try to sell men as dangerous as Dimitri and I fake guns.

  “So do we have a deal for both crates?” asked Andrei. “I need to know now. We have many interested buyers, but as a courtesy to the Motherland we are coming to you first.”

  I raised an eyebrow and repeated, “A courtesy. Did you hear that, Dimitri, the Petrov brothers were giving us a courtesy.”

  I pulled my .30-caliber Tokarev and pressed it against Andrei’s head. Both started shouting and crying.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Dimitri yelled.

  The hired henchmen shifted their feet but didn’t step in, clearly unwilling to die for whatever the Petrov brothers were paying them.

  “Tell your girlfriends to leave,” Dimitri snarled.

  “Get back! Now!” called Anatoly.

  The henchmen scattered like rats.

  “Looks like you weren’t a very good fuck in bed,” I taunted.

  Dimitri spoke. His voice was calm and controlled, something I knew would freak out the brothers. “Gentlemen, you have jeopardized a lucrative business deal of ours.”

  Andrei tried to speak.

  I cocked my gun. “Did we give you permission to talk?”

  His lips turned down as his eyes widened in a comical expression. Then I heard piss. I jumped out of the way. “Goddamn it! These are Italian!”

  “As of today, you are no longer in the gunrunning business, have I made myself clear?” Dimitri threatened.

  “But there’s enough business for everyone,” whined Anatoly.

  I shrugged. “I guess you weren’t clear.”

  Dimitri shot him in the knee. Over the brother’s screams of agony, he said, “Have I made my point, or do I need to repeat myself?”

  I shook my head. “He really hates repeating himself.”

  The other brother conceded. “Okay! Okay! No more guns.”

  “And you’ll leave the city tonight.”

  “Yes! Yes!”

  Dimitri nodded as he returned his gun to his shoulder holster. “Good. Since I know you are sorry for the trouble and inconvenience you’ve caused, we’ll accept these crates as an apology.”

  I thought about it for a second. “And the Ferrari.”

  Dimitri gave me an odd look, but I brushed it off. While it was a stupid car for two grown men, Mary would look incredibly sexy behind the wheel. A beautiful woman deserved to drive a flashy, if impractical, sports car. I would give it to her tonight when I picked her up for dinner.

  “And the Ferrari,” repeated Dimitri.

  After arranging for a cleanup crew, Dimitri and I tied up loose ends at Midway Airport where the brothers had taken possession of the counterfeit guns before parting ways. I was busy arranging to have one of my crew pick up the Ferrari and drop it off at Mary’s when I got a call from a pawnshop owner.

  Dropping everything else, I battled traffic for forty minutes to arrive at the rundown Cash for Gold pawnshop. Pushing open the filthy glass door, I surveyed the cluttered space filled with instruments, old computers, and a dingy glass case displaying black velvet trays overflowing with jewelry, mostly abandoned engagement rings and cross necklaces.

  The man behind the counter mopped his brow with a crumpled paper towel the moment I entered. He was pale, with a large face propped up by several folds of flesh under his jaw. I didn’t recognize him, but judging by the fear in his shifty, rat-like eyes, he certainly recognized me. That wasn’t surprising. Pawnshops were just on this side of the law and Dimitri and I were very well known in the criminal underworld.

  “Mr. Rostov, I hope I did the right thing.”

  “Let me see them.”

  He nodded vigorously. “I have them in the back in the safe.”

  As he disappeared through a doorway that seemed almost too narrow for his bulk, he continued to talk to me from the other room. “I hope I did the right thing. I recognized your crest from the engraving on the back of one of the cufflinks. I hope I did the right thing.” He returned to the main shop area.

  I held out my hand, and he dropped the cufflinks into my open palm. The engraving he recognized was the same as on my distinctive silver signet ring. It was a double-headed eagle with an intertwined VR. It was extremely small on the back of the cufflinks, but noticeable through a jeweler’s loupe.

  Without a word, I raised my left arm and pulled on the cuff, latching the first link through the buttonholes. I did the same for the right cuff.

  The pawnshop owner smiled. “I knew it,” he nodded, causing the flesh rolls under his chin to jiggle. “I knew it. Don’t you worry, Mr. Rostov, I got the thieving bitch’s information.”

  Reaching across the counter, I grabbed him by the shirt and dragged his considerable bulk closer. “What the fuck did you just say about my girl?”

  His eyes bulged. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rostov. I didn’t know
! I didn’t know! I’m sorry!”

  I released him and wiped my hand on my trousers, then reached for my money clip. “How much?”

  The man’s eyes shifted. “Fifteen thousand.”

  I raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

  He shook. “Did I say fifteen thousand? I meant twelve thousand… no, eleven! Eleven.”

  The corner of my mouth quirked. The man obviously didn’t realize he’d had ten carats of authentic Burmese pigeon blood rubies, easily worth half a million dollars, in his brief possession.

  I counted off fifty hundred-dollar bills and tossed them on the counter. I then snatched up a pen and pulled his receipt pad toward me. I wrote a location and six thousand dollars on the paper and signed it. “Here’s five. Take this piece of paper to that location and you’ll get the rest.”

  The man nodded.

  I waited till I was in my car to smile. I had to admit I wouldn’t have thought my feisty krasotka would have had the stones to pawn my cufflinks. Damn, this woman just became even more irresistible to me. My cock hardened as I thought about all the creative ways I planned to punish my beautiful little thief.

  Chapter 6

  Mary

  I raced home to my apartment, or should I say Fort Knox. The Russian recently paroled prison crew was long gone and everything had been left neat as a pin, but completely changed.

  All the windows now had black wrought-iron bars on them. Adhered to the security motherboard next to the door was a Post-it with a stupefying eight-digit code to activate it. There was another note in broken English saying to enter the code in backwards if we were ever in danger. Yeah, sure. No problem.

  Turning to drop my purse on the end of the kitchen counter, I had to shove aside a small dictionary that passed for the new manual to our security motherboard.

  Saving learning the second language of our new security system for later, I ran down the hall to my bedroom and stashed the money from the pawnshop in the best place I could think of, my underwear drawer. I then hopped in the shower.