The Cleaner (Born Bratva Book 4) (15 page)

Nikita

I straighten the cuffs on my shirt, getting into the clear mindset I’ll need when dealing with this guy. He’s a pimp in every sense of the word. The man draws women like a magnet and not the ugly ones either. Women want to work for him because of what he offers. They’re dressed in designer labels, have their own drivers and bodyguards, he doesn’t take all their money, and he only fucks them if they’re willing. Most of them have boyfriends and some even have husbands, but most of them like to hop aboard the Diego train every chance they get.

His manwhore ways kicked into overdrive after a break up when his main woman left. He was known for sleeping with two or three at a time, and from what I understand he’s returned to his old ways where pussy is concerned. But he’s all business otherwise and anyone who deals with him knows not to fuck him over. That includes the husbands or boyfriends of his bed partners, unless they want their mother’s home blown up. He has a penchant for blowing up cars, houses, and people.

Anyone with any sense is scared of him. Now, my family isn’t scared of the cartel but we do respect it, especially now that we’ve entered into a peace treaty of sorts with them.

Like any pimp, Diego enjoys the finer things in life. As we approach, he’s draped across an antique chair that might as well be a throne. It probably cost more than the average Joe makes in a year. A cream-colored suit paired with a flashy tie has him looking every inch the pimp, right down to his red designer shoes. He still manages to exude an air of class, even elegance. Like my father and me, he wears his long hair in a ponytail. His hair is as pitch black as his devious eyes, which he has trained on Natasha as he gives her a heated once over. He knows it’s a sure way to piss me off, but I refuse to be this afternoon’s entertainment so I keep my cool.

“Mr. Glazov, I’m honored. And Natasha…”

He stands, studying Natasha’s face as she meets his gaze. “Oh, how I need a woman like you around here. Smart. Deadly. A challenge. All this Barbie doll frilly shit doesn’t do it for me anymore.”

“They say the most beautiful women in the world come from Colombia, it shouldn’t be hard to find one with the skill set you require in your business.” Natasha continues to meet his unwavering gaze. It’s probably why he likes her, she doesn’t back down.

“Yes, maybe you’re right. Perhaps I haven’t been looking in the right places.”

Though he’s smiling benignly, the smoldering look in his eyes could melt ice. He’s taunting her but covering it very well. Diego is the kind of man that can lull you into thinking everything is fine -- and then slice your throat as you sip your Perrier. He knows how to keep a person on edge, in a constant state of fear. However, Natasha and I have one important thing going for us: he’s as leery of us as we are of him.

“Please, sit down. Adriana, move your ass, chilled vodka. 
Now
.” Once again he lets his wicked eyes linger on Natasha, practically purring as he studies her curves. “Back to the two of you. As far as beauty goes, a Colombian woman will do, of course -- but I have always had a thing for blondes, myself.”

“She’s taken,” I say curtly. It’s time to let this fucker know I’m not playing today.

“No offense, Nikita. Natasha,” he laughs, “
Dios mio
, you are every inch a woman, but no woman is worth breaking the peace treaty we have.”

This guy’s smooth, weaving his way in and out of the conversation, all the while studying us. I have no doubt he’s better at profiling than even the most experienced detective. Add to that the fact that he’s a pimp, and the man’s practically a mind reader.

His answer satisfies me and we take a round of shots from the tray Adriana is holding. “Can I get a Perrier, sweetheart? I’m driving.”

I toast with Diego and Natasha and then hand her my shot. She can drink most men under the table. I decide to see where this guy’s head is at before I get down to business.

“So what’s up since Selena left? Are you just playing the field?”

“I did for a while, slept with a different woman or two or three every night,” he gloats, “but, you see, I’m in a different place now.” He shocks me with his next statement. “I want what you two have. I want a woman who can work with me, stand by me, and have my babies someday. It’s one thing when you’re young, you know how it is, to sow your oats but that shit gets old. Hell, my bosses, Antonio Wayne and Ricardo, have even settled down. I have decided it’s inevitable.”

“But you’re a pimp, man.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he grins mischievously. “Seriously, though, I’m not pimping anymore. The women who work here have their own men, they give me a cut and I give them business and a place to stay. Antonio runs a club and he’s faithful to his wife.”

“Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”

“Enough about me, my friend. My curiosity is piqued, what’s up with the two of you, eh? Why have you stopped by to see your old friend, Diego?”

“This is all confidential, in fact no one but my family knows. Have you seen the news about the cop killer?”

“Shit, who hasn’t?”

“Well, the governor came to my father and asked for a favor. He thinks an insider is offing these cops. He wants an objective perspective so he called in Natasha to help with the forensic piece of the investigation.”

“I figure, the motherfuckers are already dead, damn sure can’t do anything for them now,” Natasha says with a chuckle. Diego laughs out loud and is wiping tears from his eyes as I glare at her.

“I’m sorry. Hey, it’s funny,” she murmurs as Diego starts laughing all over again.

“Oh, Nik, your woman…your woman is one hell of a woman. But you know this,” he says smoothly while keeping his seductive gaze locked on Natasha. I know she’s just trying to build bridges here, but I don’t want her connecting with Diego on any level.

“Anyway…Last night a third cop was killed and the cops tell us that one of your girls was there.”

That gets a reaction. His posture straightens and his expression shifts from laid back to pissed off. The cold, penetrating stare he’s giving me is revealing his crazy-ass Colombian temperament. This guy is no one to be fucking with any day of the week, but now he’s seething, the malevolence rolling off him in waves. As I suspected, this guy’s a hothead when it comes to his stable of women.

“A Kathy Jameson was there,” Natasha says, skillfully pulling his attention back to her. “Whoever killed that cop let her go and saved her life. We want to talk to her. If that’s okay with you, of course,” she adds with a small smile.

His demeanor softens in response to her charm, as I knew it would. But he’s still pissed. He turns his head toward the door but keeps his eyes trained on Natasha.

“Adriana!” he bellows. “Get Kat in here, now!”

Natasha immediately tries to appeal to his benevolent side, which seems to have already left the building.

“I’m going to be the devil’s advocate here, Diego. Whoever killed that cop probably threatened her. She was probably scared shitless and was just working up the nerve to discuss it with you.”

“Point taken, 
cara
. But my women know they’re protected—they also know not to lie to me. Omitting, avoiding? All that shit’s the same to me. When they don’t keep me informed they put all of us in danger. The same way Bratva deals with its women, I have my way of dealing with mine.”

At the phrase ‘deals with’, Natasha’s brow arches and her jaw clenches, but she remains silent and watches the scene play out.

The girl is clearly shaken as she enters the room. She approaches Diego hesitantly, her steps faltering as she crosses the room. Kat is a voluptuous Latina beauty and, at her best, would be a sultry knockout. However, today dark circles under her eyes make her appear older than she probably is, adding to her fragile appearance. Heavy makeup nearly hides the bruise on her cheek, but does nothing to conceal the slight swelling. From the way Diego’s jaw clenches as she walks toward him, he notices the wound as well.

“Yes,
papi
?” she says in a barely audible whisper.

“What did you do last night,
florecita
?” She blanches and gulps at his deceptively benign demeanor. She’s smart enough to know he’s testing her.

“I…I was out and…I don’t even remember driving home, papi, I was so scared. I didn’t want to say anything...”

“That’s not what I asked you. Wrong answer. Try again.”

Another gulp. “I went to that guy’s house, the cop who likes it real rough. I haven’t been making a lot lately and I thought I could deal with him for one night for the extra cash. But he came at me as soon as I walked in. He hit me,” she sobs as she raises a quivering hand to her bruised cheek, “and next thing I know, somebody comes out of nowhere with a gun and tells me to get the hell out. He was as surprised as I was. She said she’d kill me if I told anybody, the crazy bitch probably knows where I work and --”

“She?” I cut her off.
Bingo. This changes everything.

“Yeah. I could tell she was trying to lower her voice and make it deeper, but I know it was a woman under that hood. I change my voice all the time, depending on what the client wants. But her size and her voice gave her away.”

“Can you describe her? Anything would help,” I ask, trying to get any evidence I can.

“She was maybe her
 
size.” She nods in Natasha’s direction. “Maybe 5’7. And she was wearing one of those ski mask things and dressed in black so I have no idea what she looks like.”

Diego looks from me to Natasha and back again, and I nod to indicate that we’re done, for now. He turns those cold, black eyes on Kat and slowly crooks his finger. When she leans in, he grabs the collar of her shirt and twists the fabric, yanking her toward him until they’re nose to nose.

“Never fucking lie to me again. I’ve got too much at stake in this business for there not to be trust between us. Do not make me repeat myself and do not make me sorry I’m giving you a second chance. You feelin’ me?” he hisses through gritted teeth.

She nods tremulously while tears stream down her face. After a long, awkward silence, his posture abruptly softens and he releases his hold on her blouse to pull her onto his lap. He strokes her hair, planting a kiss on her temple and her bruised cheek, murmuring to her softly in Spanish. He tilts her chin and looks into her eyes. I glance over at Natasha and know that I don’t need to say a word for her to know what I’m thinking. 
Jesus, this guy puts Jekyll and Hyde to shame…

He continues to stroke her like a pet, first her hair then her neck and down to her plump breasts, fully aware of his audience. He kneads one luscious tit, testing its weight in his hand. Kat’s eyes glaze over and become unfocused, her breathing is labored. A smirk curves his lips when he steals a glance at Natasha and sees the heated blush on her cheeks.

He strokes his thumb across a hard nipple, pinching and pulling as he croons, “You know you have my protection. I will never let that bitch touch you,
mamacita
. Let her try -- I’ll put a bullet right between her eyes and they’ll never find the body.”

With a final squeeze of her tit, his massive hand retraces its sensual path up her torso to wrap around her slender neck. I recognize the move, having used it myself during a few particularly vigorous fuck sessions with Natasha. He exerts just enough pressure to cause her eyes to widen in alarm as he growls, “Now, you may thank me.”