“Call in his illegal park. If he gets a boot put on him, he’ll have to show ID to get his car out of lockup.” Hunter chuckles, aware of the process since he underwent it to get my car out of the impound yard last month. “Then he won’t have illegal plates to hide behind.”
“Anyone specific you want to bring in?”
I almost say Jimmy before I remember that Ryan owes me a favor, and although his kiss with Isabelle still pisses me off, I trust him. That’s a rare feat for a man like me.
“Get in touch with Ryan. Let him know I called it in.”
“Alright.”
Although the line goes silent, I know our call is still connected. Hunter hammers his keys in general, but his poundings are relentless when his stomach is suffering through the same knot as mine.
Twenty minutes later, I pull into the back entrance of Teremok at the same time Ryan’s unmarked police cruiser parks behind the dark blue sedan with illegal plates. He doesn’t have the equipment to put a boot on the man’s car, but he’ll get something we can work with. He’s too anal about procedures not to pry information out of a vault.
Teremok isn’t close to Ravenshoe’s standards, but it’s clear the clients who dine here aren’t short a penny. Several high-end cars fill the parking lot, but regretfully, every one of them reeks of underworld ties.
I dip my chin in greeting to the large man guarding the main entrance, but I don’t stop for him to check me for ID like he did the couple entering before me. My name means something around these parts, and I’m not going to let an unpaid goon make out it doesn’t.
“Isaac,” a deep rumbling Russian voice greets me from my left.
Albert is surrounded by men who don’t need to announce they’re carrying to get across the point they are gunned-up goons. They’re meatheads with too much testosterone littering their veins to portray anything else.
My jaw muscle tenses when brute one places his hand on my shoulder. “Need to frisk you first.”
“No,” I snap out, the shortness of my reply not detracting from my annoyance. “What you need to do is get your hands off me before I break your fingers for touching me.” When he has the audacity to laugh, I give him a second to drink in the utmost certainty in my eyes before I snatch his hand off my shoulder and snap his index and middle finger back. I’m not usually a brute, but if I don’t show them I’m not to be messed with, they’ll walk all over me.
The goon’s eyes bulge as a girl-like squeal ripples from his gaped mouth. Albert gabbers something under his breath, but since I don’t understand a word of Russian, I can’t tell you what he said, but I can tell you his anger isn’t directed at me. He’s furious his goon forced me to draw attention to our meeting because not only does he kick him while he’s down, but he also orders him to be removed from the restaurant with a dismissive wave of his hand.
Pissed I’m being forced to act as barbaric as the men across from me, but aware it is all part of the reputation I’m striving to keep, I lock my eyes with Albert then sneer, “The next time you only give me thirty minutes for a meeting, I’ll do worse than break his damn fingers.”
He takes a moment to gauge the authenticity of my threat. Once he knows it isn’t frivolous, he gestures for me to take a seat in an empty chair across from him. “We had heard many good things about you, but I must admit, I was skeptical.” He doesn’t need to say Vladimir’s name for me to know who he’s referencing, but he brings him up in the very next sentence. “Vladimir, though, has been pushing this meet for days.” I hide the tick in my jaw by working it side to side when he discloses, “He would have liked to come, but for business so…” he screws up his already wrinkled face before saying with a shrug, “…insignificant,he’s saving himself for more pressing exchanges.”
The fact he can act as if the sale of a child is an inconsequential event shows how much of a monster he is, but I do my best to keep the anarchy out of my voice while saying, “If it is so petty, why the charade? I’ve proven I have the funds for the sale. I’ve agreed with your terms for transport, so why are you here wasting my time?”
He swallows a healthy nip of whiskey before signaling to a waiter that he’d like another. When the offer extends to me, I jerk up my chin. Henry taught me that any rejection no matter how small the offer is a sign of disrespect. And although these men will never have my respect, I can’t ever let them know that.
Once we’ve been served a double nip, Albert tosses back half the contents in his glass before running his hand across his whiskey-smeared mouth. “This is your first dealing with us, and although Vladimir is pleased to include you in proceedings, most men seeking backing in this industry don’t take this route.”
He has it all wrong. I don’t want the Popovs’ backing. I don’t need it, but since it is once again not the time to disclose that, I shrug before saying with a snicker, “I have a keen interest in the merchandise I’m purchasing.”
Since my comment isn’t a lie, it doesn’t come out sounding like one. It does make my skin crawl, though, because Albert took the mirth in my tone as intended.
He thinks I’m a pedophile.
“Will this be a one-time purchase? Or are you planning to sow your oats further thanaristocraticblood?” His Russian accent is more pronounced during the ‘aristocratic’ part of his reply.
“That depends,” I mutter before downing a mouthful of whiskey so I can blame its burn for the huskiness in my voice when I ask, “How many more children is Vladimir planning to sell?” When dollar signs flash in his eyes, I’m quick to shut them down. “Children withhisblood.”
“Ahh…” he murmurs in a long, disgusting moan. “I was right. You’re more about the pedigree than the pureness of the merchandise.” He hides his abhorrent grin behind the rim of his whiskey glass. “I can’t say I blame you, something about those Popov women sets your blood on fire.” I want to set him on fire when he licks his suddenly parched lips before he downs the rest of his whiskey. Even though he said ‘women,’ age doesn’t enter the equation when he mumbles, “But you should trust me when I say they’re even more precious when they are untouched.”
It takes everything I have not to show repulsion on my face when I barter, “Precisely. That’s why I not only plan to win, but I’m also willing to pay a premium on top of the auction price if it guarantees she’ll be delivered to me untouched.” With his earlier disclosure revealing that there are more children than just Callie up for auction, I add, “As I will the other purchases as well.”
“Other?” Albert asks, his tone high with either confusion or hope. “I thought you only wanted royalty?”
“I do,” I reply with a dip of my chin. “For me. But with Henry’s beliefs not on par with those on the other side of the country, the East Coast is missing out on a massive market. The untapped potential here is phenomenal, and I plan to exert it for all it is worth. I am in Henry’s favor, so it would be foolish of me not to use it to my advantage.”
I feel fucking sick. My skin is crawling, and even with Isabelle nurturing me as well as I did her in this shower this morning, I feel dirty. The only reason I continue with negotiations is because money is the only thing that talks in this industry. I can’t save every child, but every purchase I make will save that child’s life.
That, alone, is worth a massive loss in revenue to my empire.
