by Bella Rose
“No, thank you. I won’t take up too much of your time.” Alexandra paused, gathering her thoughts. She was going to have to be careful. “I wanted to talk to you about Joe.”
“Ah yes.” Johnson actually looked amused. “Joe is on quite a crusade of late, isn’t he?”
“That’s actually what I wanted to discuss with you,” she said carefully. “When I spoke with Joe this morning”—she didn’t let on that she’d slept in and missed the meeting—“he stated that you were supportive of his decision to go after the man he calls Jacob Lowenstein, even though he had nothing more than general suspicious behavior as his cause.”
“You know things can be swayed in several different directions.” Johnson gave an airy wave of the hand. “Joe truly believes this man Jacob will provide the intel we need to take down Vitaly Volkov.”
Alexandra did her best not to squirm beneath Johnson’s obvious allusion to her inability to get her CI—Ivan—to give evidence against Vitaly. Instead, she focused on the little speed bump she had intentionally created for Joe. “The issue is, sir, that if Jacob discovers Joe is planning to pick him up, he will disappear and you will never see him again.”
“Do you know this person?” Johnson zeroed in on her like a laser. “I know your unsavory background has given you contacts the rest of us cannot boast.”
Unsavory background? Alexandra ground her teeth and tried to remain calm. “My father laundered money for the mafia, yes. However, I have never worked for them. I did grow up in that neighborhood, though. So yes, I know of Jacob by reputation. We have speculated for years that he worked for Yuri on occasion.”
“I see.” Johnson was frowning. “And what can you tell us?”
“That he’s skilled at evasive techniques, a lot smarter than he looks, and very capable of going to ground for years if he decides he wants to.” She narrowed her gaze at Johnson. “I’m also asking that Joe not rock the boat, because I’ve been working another angle with Vitaly and I’m making much progress.”
“Oh really?” Johnson didn’t look convinced. “And what angle would that be?”
“A physical one.” Alexandra could not believe she’d just said that. “I met Vitaly quite by accident at a club last night. We hit it off. He has no idea who I am or what my affiliations are, and he doesn’t seem to care. I’m hoping to capitalize on that and gain some intel about his supply routes and the money trail.”
“You had no authorization for an operation of that nature,” Johnson said angrily. “That sort of thing takes time, preparation, and debriefings!”
“Yes, but when an opportunity falls in your lap, you take it.” Alexandra stood up. “I wasn’t asking permission. I was informing you of my plan. And believe me. If I can get inside Vitaly’s house, I think you’ll change your mind about supporting my choice.”
Johnson raised both eyebrows. “You can get in his house?”
“Yes. I can.”
“Then I suppose you’re right.” Johnson waved her off. “But if this fails, you’re going to be in serious trouble.”
As if Alexandra hadn’t figured that out already.
***
Vitaly and Anton watched as Jacob walked down the street bold as brass. Oh he still looked the same with his ratty knapsack slung over one shoulder and his greasy hair and dirty clothes. But on a regular day he would have never walked in broad daylight down a crowded city street. And if the FBI really picked him up thinking they’d scored one on Vitaly’s organization, they deserved what they got.
“Do you really think they’ll take the bait?” Anton murmured. “What idiot could believe that a guy like Jacob would be out here strutting around like some chicken running into the slaughterhouse?”
“They’re FBI,” Vitaly reminded him. “Sometimes in their eagerness to stamp out crime and climb the ladder, they forget that criminals have brains too.”
“So,” Anton said a few minutes later, “last night?”
“I’m not talking about this.” But Vitaly could feel a smile beginning to form on his lips.
“Ugh!” Anton groaned. “Wipe that satisfied look off your face. I swear. I don’t know who the chick was, but you should find her and lock her up in your bedroom.”
“Why is that?”
Anton gave him a droll look. “Because she was obviously the best sex you have ever had.”
“What if it’s just been that long?” Vitaly teased.
“Please.” Anton paused for a minute before he spoke again. “My father was a great guy and I loved him. Still, we can all agree that he wasn’t much of a looker. But even while my mother was alive he got a ridiculous amount of tail. Women just threw themselves at him. It’s the power thing.”
“Maybe that’s what was different about last night,” Vitaly mused. “She certainly wasn’t into me because of my position. In fact, I don’t think she has any idea who I am.”
Anton shrugged. “Then tell her, or find someone else.”
“There’s nobody else like her anywhere on this planet,” Vitaly admitted.
Suddenly, a legion of black SUVs pulled up at the curb. Vitaly could see the moment Jacob’s instincts told him to run. But the little man stilled and then stopped walking. If anyone couldn’t tell that he was allowing himself to be caught, they had moron stamped on their foreheads. Which was why he wasn’t surprised when the FBI agents cuffed Jacob and stuffed him in a van.
Chapter Seven
Alexandra sat in her chair in the field office and impatiently tapped her pen against the desktop. She had never felt so indecisive. In her work, she had always known exactly what to do and how to get the necessary information. Now she was fully aware of having made a promise to her boss that she wasn’t entirely certain she could deliver on.
She put her head in her hands and groaned. “Why did I promise that I could get into the house? I can’t be sure of that! It’s not like Vitaly wouldn’t notice what I’m up to if I start pressing for that. He’s not a moron!”
Her phone trilled. She’d left it sitting on the corner of her desk. Reaching over, she dragged it closer. It was a text from Joe. Great. She grimaced as she read his triumphant announcement that they had picked up Jacob Lowenstein not far from Vitaly’s house where Jacob had been attending a meeting.
“What. The. Hell?” Alexandra said in a shocked whisper. “Jacob doesn’t make mistakes like this.”
She sat back in her chair and stared out her tiny window at the slice of blue sky visible. Jacob wasn’t careless. He wasn’t stupid. And she had given him plenty of warning to get out of sight just so this wouldn’t happen. That could only mean one thing. Someone had told Jacob to get himself picked up.
A shot of adrenaline made her half rise from her seat. What if Jacob had been told to expose her? What if that was why he’d been picked up? What if he was going to not only let her fellow FBI agents know that she had been the one to warn him, but he was going to tell them how he had been working as her CI for years?
“Ugh!” she said, disgusted with herself. “That’s a ridiculous notion. Obviously Vitaly asked Jacob to get picked up. The question is why. I need more information. I need to know what Vitaly is looking for.”
The indecision she had just been feeling was suddenly gone. She needed to get close to Vitaly and find a way to get intel from him. Getting a look inside his house had just become vital to her future with the FBI.
Unfortunately, the prospect of doing just that wasn’t unpleasant at all. In fact, Alexandra was getting mildly distracted just thinking about how incredibly good the sex had been with Vitaly. The guy practically sweated her brand of pheromone.
But none of that mattered. She gave herself a stern reprimand and tried to remember that if she screwed this up just because she was letting her hormones call the shots, she was likely to lose her job in a permanent way. Everything hinged on their dinner tonight. She had to be charming, witty, sexy, and obviously she needed to flirt her way back to the Maximov mansion. She couldn’t help but think
that a look inside Vitaly’s home would clear up everything.
***
“It’s the DEA, boss,” Dimitri said tersely as he came striding into Vitaly’s office. “That’s who’s been busting our asses on the routes.”
It took Vitaly a moment to process this information. “DEA?” he said slowly. “But the FBI is the one who’s been sniffing around for over a year.”
“I know that.” Dimitri flopped into one of the chairs in front of Vitaly’s desk and shoved his fingers through his hair. “Apparently the O’Learys have a”—he made a face—“friend inside the DEA. That friend told Donovan O’Leary that if he ratted us out, the DEA would lay off their routes.”
Vitaly groaned. This whole thing was giving him a headache.
“What’s wrong, boss?” Dimitri frowned, putting his feet up on the desk and looking comfortable. “It’s good that the FBI isn’t bugging us, right?”
“I swear this whole thing is going to give me a brain hemorrhage.” Vitaly’s voice was muffled by his hands, which were still covering his face. “No, it’s not good that we have another agency sniffing around. Are you kidding? The asinine FBI organized crime division isn’t just going to forget about us. They’re the ones that picked up Jacob, remember? I can promise you they haven’t given up.”
Dimitri’s brows lowered. “So what do we do?”
The man casually crossed his hands over his stomach. Vitaly felt a moment’s irritation followed by a significant increase in stress as he realized that he was the one who had to worry about all of this. Nobody else would take the fall. It would be him this time.
“Well,” Vitaly mused, “how fortunate that we had Jacob give the FBI the O’Learys’ route information. So they might have gotten the DEA sniffing around our organization, but we’ve got the FBI sniffing around theirs.”
“You would think the agencies would discover that at some point.” Dimitri sounded amused. He even gave a little laugh. “Don’t they bump into each other when they run operations?”
“It’s not like they’re wearing nametags or anything, Dimitri,” Vitaly said irritably. Then he looked at his watch. It was getting close to time to leave for his dinner date with Alexandra.
“Wow,” Dimitri drawled. “That was a pretty abrupt change in your expression there, boss. Got a hot date?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Then I guess I’m on duty watching the routes.” Dimitri sounded bored.
Vitaly pointed to him. “Remember we discussed diversionary plans, right?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Watch the tone. You’re perilously close to disrespect,” Vitaly growled in Russian.
“Sorry, boss, it’s just that this is a boring job.”
Vitaly shrugged. “Only sometimes.”
***
The dining room at The Samovar was filled with diners enjoying the traditional Russian food. The restaurant was one of Vitaly’s favorite holdings. He loved the way it could cater to both an upscale crowd and the neighborhood people who just wanted a taste of home and a place to speak Russian.
“Mr. Volkov, it’s so nice to see you again.” The hostess bowed her head and offered him a smile that suggested she would be willing to help him in any way possible. He was reminded again of Anton’s assertion that his father had gotten a lot of tail. Apparently there was truth to that, because as Vitaly walked through the restaurant, he noticed that he could have had any woman in there with the crook of one finger.
That was likely why he wanted Alexandra. She was not so easy. Despite the fact that the two of them had enjoyed a quick and dirty fling after their first meeting, something about her defied the notion that she was simple.
“Here’s your table, sir.” The hostess bowed him toward his usual table in the center of the room where it was possible to see everything going on.
“I’m meeting a companion,” he told her. “The woman’s name is Alexandra.”
“Of course, sir.” The hostess’s nostrils flared just slightly, the only sign of her disappointment. Then she smiled and excused herself.
He had only minutes to wait for Alexandra to arrive. She moved through the restaurant with confidence and poise. There was no hostess leading the way and Vitaly hid a smile. He had a feeling Alexandra did things her own way quite often.
“Vitaly,” she purred. “It’s so nice to see you again.”
He stood and took her fingers in his. Lifting her hand to his lips, he brushed a kiss across her skin. The responding quiver made him smile. Whether she was a strong, independent woman or not, Alexandra’s body knew exactly what it wanted.
It took only seconds to pull out her chair and get settled at the table. A waiter appeared, bowing and looking quite eager to serve. Vitaly cocked his head, noticing that the server was male. Perhaps the first male server he had ever had at this—his very own—restaurant. He found that vastly amusing.
The waiter smiled at Alexandra. “May I start the lady off with a drink? Something from the bar perhaps?”
“I’ll have a vodka and cranberry juice.” Alexandra gave the man a smile.
Vitaly found he didn’t appreciate the way the waiter’s eyes lingered on Alexandra’s cleavage. Her dress was stunning—midnight blue and cut to frame her athletic, curvaceous figure.
“And bring me a shot of vodka and leave the bottle,” Vitaly said tersely.
“Have you been here before? I sort of imagined that you had since you chose it.” Alexandra asked, her eyes bright with wit and vivacity. “I haven’t, so I’ll have to bow to your expertise in ordering.”
“This is my restaurant.” He found he was actually saying this to get a specific reaction. How odd. He’d never felt the need to impress a woman before.
She sat back in her chair, all smiles and raised eyebrows. “Wow. Really? I bet running a restaurant is tons of work. Do you ever bartend when you need someone to fill in?”
“I have a time or two, yes.”
Vitaly placed his elbows on the table and folded his hands together. He stared at his dinner companion with curiosity. She had not struck him as the talkative type before. The change was disconcerting.
“I’m sorry, I’m talking really fast, aren’t I?” Alexandra blushed and her gaze dropped to her lap. “I do that when I’m very nervous.”
“And you’re nervous?” he mused. He still had the feeling she wasn’t being quite honest.
She finally looked back up and every bit of the self-possession and confidence he had so admired before was back in place. The change was breathtaking. “Well,” she began, “our last meeting was rather consuming, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely,” he managed to speak without choking on the word.
“It’s rather a lot to live up to.” She gave a delicate shrug of one bare shoulder. “Although I find I’m very willing to give the task my full attention.”
He did not miss the double entendre in her words. “Do you often engage in such tasks that require your full attention?”
“No. I do not.”
Vitaly felt blood rushing straight to his groin. He raised his hand to call the waiter. It was time to order their food, lest he be tempted to skip dinner altogether.
Chapter Eight
Alexandra wasn’t supposed to be having this much fun while having dinner with a known mafia boss. The problem was that Vitaly was just likeable. He was funny and charming. Even better, he seemed to be honestly interested in having more than just a physical connection with her.
“So Dimitri decides that it might be more fun to keep the wasp’s nest than to just throw it away,” Vitaly was saying. “Except he hadn’t actually considered whether or not there were still wasps inside it. By the time he set it on the kitchen table, there were a dozen or more angry wasps chasing his brothers around the table. Apparently Dimitri had gotten so much of the repellent on him that they were leaving him alone. So, helpful man that he is, he just laughed his ass off and let his brothers get stung repeatedly.�
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Alexandra was laughing so hard she worried she might actually spray food across the table. She covered her mouth with a napkin and managed to swallow. “It sounds like these guys are more like your little brothers than your employees.”
“It’s a lot like that.” His eyes took on a faraway look. “Their father was like a second father to me after my own passed away.”
“So you said you’re Russian,” Alexandra said carefully. This was the perfect time to ease into getting him to talk about himself and divulge some valuable tidbits. “Were you actually born here?”
“No.” He took a drink of the wine the waiter had brought with their dinner. “I lived in Moscow until I was a teenager. When my father died, my mother came over here to look for a better life.”
“Like a mail-order bride?” The question just popped out. That bit of info hadn’t been in the FBI’s files on Vitaly Volkov. Alexandra slapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry, that was really rude!”
“No, it’s all right.” He gave her such a soft smile that she felt everything in the vicinity of her heart go all mushy. “And yes. It was quite like a mail-order bride.”
“Did she fall in love with the man she came over to marry?” Alexandra couldn’t help but ask even though the question had zero bearing on her investigation.
Vitaly seemed to think this over. His expression grew introspective and he sat back in his chair in a very relaxed posture. “I believe so. She certainly seemed happy.”
“And now you’re a successful businessman,” she said eagerly. There. That was on topic. “Tell me, do you own more than one restaurant?”
“I have a restaurant and a lounge.” He sounded just a bit more guarded now.
Alexandra cast about for something to keep him talking. “That must keep you busy.” She gave a calculated pause, forcing her expression to remain demure. “I suppose that’s why you’re still single.”
“I’m still single for the same reason every other man is single.” He laughed. “I have yet to discover a woman that can tempt me to give up my freedom.”
