REGENCY: Loved by the Duke (Historical Billionaire Military Romance) (19th Century Victorian Short Stories) (19 page)

“I have also considered that, your honor.”
Alexi drew up a breath and squared his shoulders. 
“To that end… I believe that the opposition would accept a
political
avenue,”
he added pointedly.

The judge’s face changed in a way that Regina wouldn’t have thought possible.  It lit with glee.  She found that expression more frightening than when he had looked red with rage. 

“You are aware, of course, Mr. Romanov, of what that will entail should I rule so?”
Utkin said, his smile nearly dripping with anticipation.

Alexi nodded. 
“I am, your honor, and I am prepared to accept it.  I have already made preparations for such… my companion, Yuri Salnikov, has agreed to oversee the transition of my estate into federal hands.”

The judge was quiet for a short time before bridging his fingers and gave an approving nod. 
“In the old days, a sacrifice like this would have seen you well-rewarded for your service to people and country, Mr. Romanov.”

“Alas, these are the new days, your honor,”
Alexi said, though Regina thought she detected a note of sorrow in his voice. 

Utkin nodded. 
“Very well.”
  He looked to Abram.  
“Mr. Fyodorov… do you object to what Mr. Romanov has proposed?”

Abram, who looked as if he had been in some fantasy of how to spend vast amounts of money shook his head. 
“No, your honor… what the defendant has proposed sounds quite agreeable… but if I might make one small addendum?”

“Yes?”

Abram gave a small look to Alexi and Regina saw a brief flicker of… forgiveness?  But just as quickly as it had come it had gone and the plaintiff turned his attention back to the judge. 
“Your honor, I would move that my clients give the namesake of one of the community centers that they
donated
to my late daughter.  Many of these projects were her ambitions, after all.”

Regina was not religious by nature, but she did believe that she had just witnessed a miracle.  She held her quiet and waited to see if other miracles may yet follow. 

The judge nodded. 
“Very well… I’m sure it would not be a terrible effort.”
  Utkin made a note on his pad and gave one final look to Alexi. 
“Are you prepared to hear your sentence, Mr. Romanov?”

Alexi nodded knowingly. 
“I am your honor.” 
With that, he sat back into his chair and Regina struggled to keep from reaching out to hold his hand.  She wasn’t entirely sure what was happening here, but whatever it was, Alexi was comfortable with it.

The judge made a final note on his pad before speaking, his voice becoming official once more. 
“Alexi Romanov… in my judgement, you have abused your powers of business for selfish purposes.  If we were in Russia, such an action as that would be grounds enough to revoke your business license.  Yet the money you have diverted has gone to the benefit of those in our country who cannot help themselves.  Admirable as that aim might have been, I cannot allow your methods for doing so to go unpunished.”
  Utkin sat up straight in his chair.
  “In light of this new information, the court sees fit to accept the financial reparations that your associate, Yuri Salnikov, will make on your behalf and I shall see to it that he is made the executor of your estate.” 
He paused and his voice became lightly stern.
  “For your crimes, you will be sentenced to political exile, and all of your family’s assets in Russia will be confiscated by the state, and you will remain here in the United States of America until such time as you are decreed a legal immigrant or the American jurisprudence finds you worthy of resident alien status.”

Regina’s heart skipped a beat at hearing this.  It wasn’t a miracle, but it certainly was a better outcome than what she had managed to envision for an outcome at the end of this trial. 
It’s not perfect… but it’s not a bad outcome either.

“Court is adjourned,”
Utkin said, banging his gavel.  The sound carried like thunder across the empty room.  Utkin stood, as did she, Alexi, and Abram as the judge gathered his notes and made an exit from the room. 

Abram was next, picking up his briefcase – which he hadn’t even opened – and made for the exit.  Before reaching it, he stopped, and turned to look at Alexi.  Regina waited and watched, expecting there to be a final hateful glance or a threatening remark.  But neither came.  Abram Fyodorov silently turned and walked out of the room, saying nothing.

Alone with Alexi, Regina’s mind was still spinning with what had just occurred here.  In the silence of the court, she looked to Alexi and felt the questions bubbling within her.

Alexi answered them before she could even ask.  “This means that I will stay out of Siberian prison… but it also means that I can never return to Russia.  Ever.”

She nodded.  “And you’re ruined, financially.” 

He turned a sly look at her.  “Am I?”

Her face became inquisitive.  “Aren’t you?”

He chuckled and much to her surprise – and pleasure – he reached out and put a hand on her hip, gently rubbing at it.  “Through political exile, the Russian Federation will confiscate
some
of my accounts, Regina… but not all of them.”

She felt her eyebrows furrow.  “Huh?”

“I’ve had accounts here in America for several years now.  By now, the interest alone is… substantial.  And the Russian government cannot touch those.” 

She found that this puzzle was falling well into place.  “So… you’re not broke?”

He smiled at her.  “The five billion that I promised your firm can be paid twenty times over if I choose.” 

She smiled.  “When did you come up with this plan?”

He touched the underside of her chin.  “This morning… while I watched you sleep.  I knew there was no way I could ever return to Russia with honor… or without fear that one day my caviar might be poisoned.  At least this way, I am as good as dead to them.  My troubles are – for all intents and purposes – finished.”

She looked over her shoulder to where Abram had left.  “And him?”

Alexi shook his head.  “We have – in our own way – made our peace.  Perhaps it was not done as he would have planned, but it was also done in a way that he would not shun, either.”

She gathered up her brief case and they walked towards the exit of the courtroom and again she had to fight the urge to put her arm through his affectionately.  They weren’t clear of this place yet and until then, she had to retain some manner of professionalism. 

“So, in the end, you didn’t really need me at all for this, did you?”

“Not so.  Without you, I wouldn’t have had the thoughts that led me to your room last evening.  I was prepared, for all intents and purposes to fight this as best as I could to its inevitable – and troubling – conclusion.  But seeing you… I felt… different.”

She smiled.  “You needed me.”

“I still do… with my alien status now in question, I will need representation to become a United States citizen.”  He smirked.  “I don’t suppose you could recommend a firm to aide me?  Perhaps you know of one with experts in international law whom I could work with closely… for long periods of time?”

She smirked back.  “It will be a long process, Alexi… and after today my record will be…”

“Untarnished.  You did not win, but you did not lose either.  And I will be happy to give your supervisor my highest praises for your efforts.  And a case of this nature, settled in two days, will surely bring you much favor, yes?”

She wasn’t able to suppress it any longer.  She took hold of his neck and brought his mouth down to her own.  The kiss was simple but as passionate as it had been the night before.  Again, he did not fight it and she desired to try again that which they had both admitted shortcomings.  But there would be more time for that later.

When she broke the kiss she replied, “You know… I can think of someone who would love to work the case.”

THE END

Chapter 1

Carlie checked her appearance in the mirror on the reverse side of the sun visor.  The mirror wasn’t large but she was able to give herself an appraising look.  She was full figured and buxom, and the chocolate color of her skin clashed with the dark blue of the dress that she had gotten into for tonight.  The single blonde highlight in her hair gave a splash of color to her otherwise jet black hair.

She didn’t look bad, she thought, though she thought that she could have done better.  And with only fifteen minutes to get ready, she thought that she could have done worse.  But as soon as they broke the city limits and headed into what the locals referred to as “open country” she had second thoughts about coming at all.

But like so many times before she had given in to the pressure of Jackie, her best friend, to go out and do something wild and crazy.  That usually meant going to a club that they had never been to before.  It meant having a few drinks, eyeing the men there, maybe striking up a conversation… some harmless flirting… and if one of them got lucky, taking a cab ride home for a little no-strings-attached kind of deal.  That was their way… that was how they had fun.

But once they passed the edge of the city and entered into the kind of stretch of land where cabs wouldn’t go, Carlie found that she was dependent on Jackie to get home.  Cabs wouldn’t come out here, not even if they were paid triple the fare.  That also meant that Carlie was stuck with her friend, win or lose.  And every mile that they traveled away from the city her spirits began to sink lower for the possibilities of how this night could end.

Going out and doing something wild and fun sounded like fun when Jackie talked about it, just like it always did.  Jackie always pitched it as a chance to break up the monotony of their everyday lives.  To do something that was so far out of their comfort zone that if they were to mail themselves postcards about it the cards wouldn’t arrive for another week.  To live life on the very edge… experience mystery… danger… and the thrill of being surrounded by the kinds of characters that filled Jackie’s only requisite for sexual conquest.

“I want to meet a guy that makes me damp in my panties just by looking at him,” Jackie said as they approached one of the dozens of dive bars that could be found along the highway of the greater L.A. area. 

Carlie looked from her friend with mild disgust up at the bar as they approached and her expression changed.  As mild as the loathing was for her friend at this particular moment, her dislike for this place was tantamount. 

The bar didn’t look like a bar at all.  It looked more like the kind of place in a movie where fights broke out constantly and people were buried in shallow graves out in the back.  Any second she expected to see a man – or a pair of them – come flying out the front windows of the place throwing beer bottles at each other or trying to pound each other’s lights out.  At the very worst she expected to see another pair of men come crashing out the front doors locked in either some kind of a knife fight or a gun battle worthy of one of the old western movies.

That’s fucking California for you
… she thought as she took in the other details of the building.

It was a simple one-story place.  It was built out of cinderblocks and was a wide place, like it could have been some kind of a storage facility or something once upon a time.  There were stained windows on the front, flanking either side of a metal double-door at which there was a line of people already waiting to get in.  Through the windows she could see light flickering and the blurred shapes of silhouetted figures moving back and forth, the privacy of the place – at least from the outside – was assured. 

Oh, good,
she thought as they drew closer. 
No one will see if we get murdered while we’re inside.

The front was covered in graffiti from top to bottom and in the kind of street characters that she couldn’t read.  Even from the outside she could hear the beat of loud music and the sound of laughter and high conversation.  The smell of tobacco and engine exhaust permeated the air and she felt sick to her stomach after only a few breaths.

As bad as the place was, it didn’t hold a candle to the kinds of people that were standing in line, waiting for admittance.  There were men and women in both and both seemed to be divided into two distinct camps.

Among them were the kinds of people she figured were the “normal” bikers. Those were bedecked in leather chaps, bandannas on their heads, dark sunglasses, beards, visible tattoos, and leather jackets that could have housed anything from knives to big bore pistols.

Alternately, there were the collections of people that she knew to be the speed demons of this particular day in age.  Most of them were younger, only one or two years removed from being kids really.  Those were dressed with padded jackets and pants that sported the logo of bike races, or other faster-than-shit marketing.  There were men and women there too, the women wearing figure flattering pants or shirts.  Roadies, she thought they were called… or something to that effect.

Either way it was a strange mixture of people.  Bikers who preferred good old fashioned muscle bikes mingling with those who liked speed and noise from theirs, it was an odd sight.  Being from deep inside the city she had always thought that the two groups of people generally didn’t like each other.   To see them here was like watching fire and oil slowly creep towards each other and waiting for the inevitable flare up that would consume them and everything else around them.

There was a small assortment of other vehicles parked out in front of the place as well.  The most dominant of the vehicles parked out front were of course the assortment heavy bikes; Harley’s… Sturgis… like that, which clearly belonged to the traditional bikers.  On the other side, as if there were designated parking areas for them, there were Kawasaki’s… Hondas… Ducati’s… or ‘crotch rockets’ as she heard them referred to as.  There were also a few pickup trucks and a few cars, including the car that she and Jackie had arrived in. but the former told her that this place was a gathering ground for bikers.

Not the kind of place that we should be
, she thought, kicking herself to agreeing to go out on another one of Jackie’s adventures.  She said as much to her friend as they drew closer.

“Oh, come on!” Jackie said, with a childlike whine.  “Where’s your spine?”

“Firmly lodged inside my back and that’s where I’d like to keep it,” Carlie said as she kicked a rock through the dirt of the parking lot.  “To that end, we’re going back home…
now
.”  She said resolutely, feeling determined to head back towards Jackie’s car, parked on the side of the road on the dirt shoulder where they’d left it.  The car was old and a little beat up and wouldn’t have stood out in a gathering of vehicles like this so they might still go unnoticed, but Carlie would have thought that the car was better than a stretch limo if only they could turn around and leave now. 

“Carlie,” Jackie said, reaching out and resting her hands firmly on her shoulders and keeping her from moving another inch.  “Do you
know
what this place is?”

Carlie looked over her friend’s shoulder at the bar behind her and then looked back to her friend.  The cinderblock walls, tinted windows, gathering of shady characters hadn’t changed.  And a neon sign above the door that labeled the place as “The Open Road” shined brightly, but did nothing to tell her of any hidden or underlying meaning that she might have otherwise been missing.

“Is this a trick question, because it looks like a convenient spot for murderers to hide?”

“No,” Jackie said, squeezing her shoulders with mild irritation.  “This place… I heard about it at work today,” she said excitedly, but softly.  “It’s said that the Gods of Asphalt like to spend some of their time here.”

Carlie arched a curious eyebrow at her friend.  Much of what came out of Jackie’s mouth was a mystery to her, but more than once a little edification was necessary.  “And who are they, some kind of a Goth band or something?  Is that what this place is?  A roadhouse?”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Jackie said, leaning forward and allowing her head to hang in the narrow space between them for a moment before looking up again.  “How can you live in L.A. and not know this?”  She tensed her fingers on her shoulders as if pressing the information into her body through her touch.  “Carlie, the Gods of Asphalt… they’re a motor cycle gang!  And I hear that a couple of them are really cute.”

Carlie felt her heart quicken and the desire to leave intensified tenfold.  But even that comingled with her desire to smack her good friend upside the head.  She was as bad as a man sometimes, being very one-track minded.  She might not have known what Jackie did about this place, but she knew that gangs were not typically people that she wanted to be around.  That Jackie was a creature motivated by sex had never been a shock to her, but it was that very reason that got them into trouble more than a few times.  She put her hands up on Jackie’s shoulders and squeezed intensely.  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that.  Because if you did, as your friend, I would feel obligated to knock you the fuck out and carry you back to your cheap car and go home and along the way we’ll forget that this whole idea of yours ever happened.”

“Oh, come on!” Jackie said, that familiar whine in her voice reminding her of a pouty child.  “
Please
!”

“No!” Carlie said, tensing her shoulders.  “You want to go to a women’s strip club and try and get one of the dancers into your panties… fine.  You want to get dressed up like we’re rich and go to a gentleman’s social club to fuck a rich guy… fine.  But bars where biker gangs congregate and we could end up dead?  Uh-uh, I’m drawing the line!” she said resolutely and turned back towards the car.

“Carlie!” Jackie said, her pouty tone firmly intact. 

“Come on!” she repeated.

“You know I have the keys to my car, right?”

Carlie froze after two steps and shut her eyes with intense loathing for her friend at this particular moment.  But that was nothing compared to the self-loathing that she had for herself.  All of this could have been avoided if she’d simply said “No” to this night’s outing.  She turned back to her friend.

Jackie held up her ring of keys with a winning smile on her face that was, again, akin to a child’s: grinning like they were playing a game that she had already won.  And just like she normal, Jackie pulled out the collar of her shirt and dropped the keys down between her breasts and gave each of them a suggestive push up, hiding the bulk of the keys inside.  And then turned to walk towards the line of people waiting outside the doors of the bar and the meaning in that was all too clear: if she wanted to leave, she would have to let Jackie have her fun.

It was an old trick of hers.  Carlie was a doctor by training.  The human body didn’t bother her.  But there was something particularly unnerving about having to feel around inside her friend’s cleavage for the car keys.  It was a line that she hadn’t crossed. 

Yet
, she thought to herself as she grumbled and followed Jackie inside.