The Devil's Beauty (Crime Lord Interconnected Standalone Book 2) (42 page)

Frank took a cab with her to her apartment. They had to make a detour to Ed’s office for a spare key to replace the one Ava lost at some point between being kidnapped by Dimitri and having his hideaway blown up. She lost a lot of things, she realized later as they walked the cream and gold corridor to the sprawling main entrance at the back of the complex. Ivory columns guarded the oval chamber with its row of diamond patterned glass and gold trim. Everything gleamed, a stubborn polish that reflected every bit of light that came through to a blinding sheen. Ava hated walking through there. The unrestricted radiance made her head thrum.

Ed, in his thousand-dollar suit of white cream and hundred-dollar haircut, rose from behind his solid marble desk with a flourish even Ava couldn’t pull off. He fastened the front of his blazer over the soft, lilac purple of his dress shirt and the light caught the square diamond on his varsity ring.

“Ava!” He burned through their retinas with his toothpaste commercial smile, which she could have sworn was whiter since the last time she’d seen him, or his tan was darker. She couldn’t be sure. “We were beginning to worry about you.” He stalked towards them, his brown loafers clicking on the marble. “There was no news that you were back.”

Ava offered him a smile, even as he extended her his smooth, manicured hand. “It’s been a long few days, but I was hoping I could use the spare key to get into my apartment. I seem to have misplaced mine.”

Ed beamed. “Of course.”

He motioned her to follow him back to his desk. Ava didn’t. Her head was beginning to feel like Swiss cheese just standing there. Any closer and the lights might just kill her.

Ed rifled through one of the top drawers of his desk and unearthed a clump of keys as bright and polished as his office. He flipped through several before finding the one he was looking for. He held it up in triumph.

“Here we are.”

It looked like all the other keys on the ring. She couldn’t fathom how he was able to tell them apart, but he seemed confident in his selection as he walked back to them.

He was right in front of her when he seemed to notice Frank hovering right behind her. The man was six-four and built like an ox. How he could ever be missed was beyond her.

“Oh,” Ed said with a startled little blink of his silvery eyes. “Who’s your friend, Ava?”

She had no idea why it was any of his business who she brought up to her apartment, but she answered anyway.

“This is Frank.”

Smelling money and the scent of fresh meat, Ed moved in for the kill, forgetting to give her the keys.

“Pleasure!” He offered Frank a hand. “Ed Cummings, gatekeeper of this fine establishment. Are you looking to buy at all?”

Frank stared at him with that bland expression he was so fond of. “No.”

Ed’s face drooped a little. “We have some excellent prices for all the amenities we have to offer. Gym, sauna, Olympic-sized swimming pool, tennis court, basketball court, and so much more, and our residents are welcome to use all of them twenty-four hours. We even have our own restaurant dedicated entirely to serving our—”

“No.”

Ed visibly deflated, but quickly caught himself and the extravagant smile returned. “If you change your mind.” A card was produced seemingly out of nowhere with just a flick of his wrist. Ava suspected he had a stash of them tucked up his sleeve, but could never prove it, nor did she really care. “I’m available twenty-four hours, all week.”

Frank took the card. Ava guessed to shut the man up.

“Ed,” Ava interrupted. “The key, please?”

Ed jerked a little and spun around to face her, keys jingling. “Right.” He chuckled. “Here you are. Please bring it back when you’re finished. I’ll have another set made for you by tonight. Does that work for you?”

Ava assured him it would, took the offered set and hurried out with Frank right on her heels. They returned to the main area of the building and stopped before a row of gold elevators. She hit the button and waited while the numbers above the door flicked downward one by one. From the corner of her eye, she caught Frank tossing the card into a nearby trash bin and bit back a snicker.

Ed was an amazing business man. He owned several lavish, high end condo buildings that had waiting lists four decades long. He knew just what needed to be said to lure clients in and wring them for every penny. But he lacked modesty. Ava mused he could probably afford to go without. But he hadn’t been there when Ava had bought her apartment. The place had been owned by a sweet old man who sold it and retired to Florida. Ed bought it and everyone on the list. She’d considered selling and moving to something less … grand, but it had never been a priority. It still really wasn’t.

The elevator arrived and they boarded. She selected her floor and watched as the doors closed and the gears began to crank. Higher and higher it went, lifting well over the twenties and thirties. It bypassed the forties and fifties. The building only had seventy floors, but hers arrived at sixty-two. When she’d first looked at the place, there had been a slot open on the seventieth, and she’d looked at it, but the view had made her queasy. Strange considering she was only eight floors down and it was fine.

“I won’t be long,” she promised Frank, quickening her strides along the thick, comfortable carpets. “There’s a TV and food in the fridge if you’d like to make yourself a snack. I’m just going to grab a quick shower and some change of clothes.”

They arrived at her door and Ava quickly inserted the key. She turned it, heard the tumbler give and slide back from the frame. It snapped its release. Her fingers curled around the doorknob. She twisted, heard a secondary click…

“Get down!”

Frank’s entire bulk slammed into her before she even had time to suck in a breath. It crashed into her with the force of a small car and she went flying sideways and hitting the ground with a shattering thump that sang up her entire body with a razor blade of pain. But there was no time to cry out, and if she did, it was swallowed by the whoosh and the bang of her entire world erupting in a fiery explosion.

Christ, the pain.

Dimitri fought not to shift in the stiff, leather seat Penny had selected specifically for him at the head of an onyx cut into a long drooping oval. The hinges gave an undignified squeak anyway. In the commotion, it was barely heard.

War.

It was the only way to consider the chaos unfolding before him. It was far more tamed compared to the one of the previous day, but he needed to get a hold on it before it escalated.

“Everyone, sit down!”

He would have slammed his palms on the table, but the pain in his side was still too fresh. The skin was too raw around the stitches. Even breathing made his eyes want to cross.

It had been a cheap shot meant for someone else that Dimitri got in the path of. It hadn’t been a deliberate gesture, but it had won him a favor with the Panthers and he considered that mild success.

The room quieted, gradually, a slow descent of noise until it was just the shuffle of bodies and chairs being dragged back to the table. Grown men glowered at each other all up and down the glass, now smudged with handprints and speckles of blood. Dimitri could only stare at it and shake his head.

“What is the matter with you?” he said out loud, trying to look each person in the face when he spoke. “We are one territory. Our job is to have each other’s backs and fight against those trying to come into our sector. Not this.”

He nudged back his chair, ignored the pang in his side and started down the mahogany paneled office.

The conference room was just a small area of an enormous business structure. Penny had somehow found and bought the biggest building in the north and turned it—overnight—into his place of command. He didn’t even know what the building had been before he’d taken over, but there were giant printers and fax machines edged into corners and cubicles and boxes of packed files piled into rooms. He’d made a mental note to ask Penny when they’d arrived for the initial meeting yesterday, but then he’d been stabbed and the question had left his mind.

What a nightmare, he thought miserably. An all-out brawl had not been how he’d wanted to introduce his new leadership to the lower clans. It certainly hadn’t been how he’d wanted to ruin his first ever suit. The whole thing had been a disaster from the start.

From the moment he’d walked into the office and into the throng of over fifty of the city’s worst criminals, he had known the whole situation hadn’t been thought out properly. For one, he should have had every one disarm. Taking a man’s weapon never sat well with anyone, but, as he learned later while he lay in a puddle of his own blood, it was necessary.

Another thing he’d learned was to seat everyone better. The absence of a leader had generated an animosity amongst the clans that was thick enough to cut through with a knife. Dimitri didn’t know the full story and never got the chance to ask when the fight started, but from what he gathered between the shouting and before the switchblade was that someone stole something from someone, but no one could prove it and no one wanted to admit to anything.

Dimitri didn’t care. He wasn’t a teacher rounding naughty children. He had no patience or time for useless bickering, which was what he’d been about to say when shit had gone terribly wrong.

“This will not continue,” he told the group. “We will not fight amongst ourselves. That is weakness and we will not give the other territories the opening they need to take us down.” He paused as he walked. Yelling had begun to agitate his side, making the skin burn, and he needed a second to catch his breath without wavering. “We have the heart of this city, the crown, without us, it will all fall into chaos. It is our job, our duty to keep the body working and the system flowing. Whatever animosity you might have towards each other needs to be resolved. Now!”

No one spoke. Even if they disagreed, no one said as much. He was their leader. What he said was law.

He struggled not to check his watch. He really had no time for this. Ava had been discharged and he wanted to see her. Instead, he was babysitting a room full of grown, pouty men.

Resigned, he slowed to a stop and pivoted to face the group, his hands behind his back. He studied their faces, taking in their enmity and barely suppressed rage, and calculated the best course of action.

Asking them to kiss and makeup wasn’t going to happen. They weren’t children, despite their behavior. They were dangerous men, men with power and money, who, in all reality, could easily kill him right where he stood.

But they wouldn’t. They wouldn’t for the same reason guards wouldn’t kill their king, or soldiers their commanding leader—retaliation. There was an order in the hierarchy and those who did not abide by the laws were made examples of in a gruesome and violent manner that only a few had ever tested. The Syndicate was a fierce organization that would come down unforgiving and mercilessly on anyone who attacks one of its own. It was a dysfunctional family that bickered, but would band together when threatened.

Dimitri thought of Elena and wondered if she was even in the city anymore. It was unlikely, but that wouldn’t matter. Her world had become a fishbowl. It was only a matter of time before someone caught her.

“Yesterday,” he continued, gentler now, “we started discussing the strengths of our boundaries, the security on our streets. We were attacked and that cannot go unpunished. We set it straight here and now what will happen to those who come into our turf and try to take what is ours.” He paused, his side giving a twinge. “I want names of those responsible for the lives lost.”

One hand went up, immediate and without flinching. Wheels squeaked as a seat was shoved back and a boy rose.

A boy.

Barely twenty. He couldn’t have even been shaving yet. But he stood before Dimitri with a firm, unyielding expression, his brown eyes unflinching against a round face and a set jaw.

“It was me, sir,” he said shortly. “I was there. I gave fire.”

Dimitri hadn’t honestly expected a forthright admission. It took him a second to school his features.

“Walk us through it,” he told him. “Starting with your name.”

Dimitri had done his homework before setting his sights on the territory he would claim. He knew the name of the clan leaders, their preferred crimes, their seconds, and their locations. He knew their house names, its insignias, the colors. But he was still working out their crews.

“Rusty,” the boy said. “Vipers.”

Dimitri slanted a glance at the rigid, stone faced man on the boy’s left. The resemblance was striking, too close not to be the boy’s father.

“What happened?” Dimitri made his way back to his seat, fairly certain he’d pulled a stitching.

“Me and my boys were out in the market,” Rusty began, clear, confident, a boy prepared to lay it all out and accept his punishment. Dimitri could respect that. “My mom sent me out to get green onions for supper. We get there and there’s these busters hassling Old Mama Marie. We roll up—” His father elbowed him. Rusty faltered, cleared his throat and tried again. “We go up to them and we tell them this our turf and they needed to bounce … leave,” he corrected.

Dimitri almost found himself grinning. “You can just tell the story. I understand the lingo.”

The boy looked relieved. His shoulders sagged a fraction, but he plowed on.

“Yes sir.” He straightened. “They retaliated, got up in me and my crew’s face, saying we ain’t got no leader and it’s free man’s land. They disrespected Old Mama Marie, knocking over her things and stepping on them. We dealed.”

“You fought,” Dimitri clarified.

Rusty nodded. “Yeah, but they pulled first. We were only going to knock them around a bit, teach’em respect, you know? Things got out of hand from there.”

“Who’s Mama Marie?”

“Old Mama Marie … sir,” Rusty added quickly. “She gets testy if you don’t say it right, and she owns the grocery store in the market.”

Dimitri made a mental note to see this Old Mama Marie and get an outsider’s take on things.

“Do you know who the other crew was?”

Rusty nodded. “Chan Lee’s crew, the Scorpions. Them and their busters run out under the east side bridge.”

Chan Lee. The name made a resounding clang striking Dimitri’s memory. What were the odds? He wondered to himself. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the same guy who tried to trap The Devil was also trying to move into Dimitri’s territory.

“Are they affiliated with the east?”

Rusty shook his head. “They’re nobody. Busters, sir. Fake wannabes trying to be gangsta. Never even heard of them until they started tagging scorpions up and down the west side. Started a lot of bad shit before Tyrone, leader of the Horns, chased them out.”

“And now they’re on our turf,” Dimitri mused, sitting back gingerly. “I think someone needs a sit down with this Chan Lee. Find him and bring him to me.”

The father inclined his head.

“Sir,” Rusty spoke up. “I don’t mean no disrespect, but we were only trying to protect our people. The people who got hit, the blood on our streets … they were ours. Our community is feeling their loss and that’s on us as much as on the busters, but my crew was only following my lead. I take responsibility for what happened, so I only ask that you spare them.”

Dimitri studied him closely, admiring him for his tenacity and grit.

“We’ll discuss it after the meeting,” he said, and watched the color leave the boy’s face.

His throat muscle flexed rapidly like whatever was lodged in there refused to go down, but he squared his shoulders and gave a firm nod.

“Yes sir.” He dropped down into his chair and stared hard at the table.

“Next order of business,” Dimitri began, turning to the rest of the table. “You all should have been informed by now that the Syndicate is on a manhunt for Elena and Ivan Tasarov. They are wanted for high treason against the order. Anyone harboring her, assisting her in anyway, will be prosecuted with her when she’s found. If anyone here or anyone in your crew knows her whereabouts, step up and lay it out now. Otherwise, inform your districts that she is to be found and brought in alive. There is an award, a hundred grand to the clan who finds her first.”

A low murmur rose over the room, a chatter of confusion and excitement. Dimitri didn’t stop it. There was no reward, but he would offer it, himself, from his own pocket if it meant ending Ava’s suffering. He would give a million if necessary. Whatever it took to take Elena out of Ava’s life for good.

A soft knock interrupted the commotion. The chatter died instantly as the knob turned and Penny poked her head inside. Her inexplicable appearance prickled Dimitri with annoyance. He’d told her to stay in the other room with the men he’d hired as protection. He’d told her to keep away on the off chance things had gone south like they had the day before. She’d escaped that disaster purely on luck by not being in the room when the fight had started. He hadn’t wanted to risk her getting hurt if another one broke out. Yet, there she was, smiling sheepishly at the room like it was perfectly normal.

“Pardon the interruption.” She nudged her glasses higher up on her nose with the tip of one finger. “The snacks you’ve requested has arrived. Would it be all right if I showed them in?”

He hadn’t ordered snacks. The very idea had his head cocking to the side, trying to recall when this supposed conversation took place. This was a gathering of criminals. Canapés weren’t exactly common.

“Sir?”

Realizing there was no way to turn it down now, he motioned her to continue.

There were no pigs in blankets or tiny cheese and cracker platters, thank God. It was sandwiches and chips and trays of sodas and coffee. The caterers marched in, single file, and began organizing the table, laying out plastic plates and cutlery, asking gun lords and drug cartels if they wanted coffee or
Coke
. The whole scene was almost laughable.

While the others were busy helping themselves, Dimitri rose and joined Penny by the open doors.

“Snacks?”

She shrugged. “I thought it might deter you from getting stabbed again, sir.”

He remembered her face clearly when it had happened. She had been firm, but pale beneath her feeble attempts not to cry. It had been sweet, considering. She had stayed with him while he’d been stitched up by one of the men. Hell if he remembered which. Then he’d made her swear never to tell Ava.

“She can’t know,”
he told her.
“She worries enough.”

Penny’s lips had been pinched so tightly together, they’d becoming a white slash despite the pink gloss. Her chin had wobbled once, but it had been stiffened and she gave a shaky nod.

“I thought I told you to stay away from here,” he told her, not unkindly.

She nodded slowly. “Yes sir, but seeing as how I really need this job, I’m adding your survival to my list of top priorities.”

With that, she walked out, leaving Dimitri shaking his head and smothering a grin.

“Sir?” Rusty approached him, hesitant, but determined.

Dimitri turned to him. “Yes, Rusty?”

Rusty cleared his throat. He glanced back over his shoulder to where his dad was in deep discussion with one of the other men. Then he focused his attention back on Dimitri.