Greyson had seen a lot of interesting things in his time as he traveled the world, but this place had it beat. There were old leather chairs, the place smelled like polished wood, and the women were…gorgeous.
Then the giant tank in the middle of the place was filled with topless, frolicking mermaids.
That this was created in his mind…
It said a lot about Dimitri’s attention to details. It also made Greyson as curious as hell.
“Okay, I have to ask. Why mermaids?” Greyson asked, as they were escorted to the owner’s lounge.
That was simple.
“When Kat was young, she wanted to be one. The first book I ever got her, and she learned to read, was about a mermaid. Since that day, she always wanted to be one when she grew up. As an adult, I knew they didn’t exist, but as a child, she didn’t. I wanted to give her the magic of that moment in life. The club was born.”
Only, Greyson knew the truth.
Dimitri had been a child then too. He’d been young, and the weight of saving himself and his sisters had been a lot to handle.
“I think you made something amazing for that legacy,” Greyson admitted.
“Thank you.”
They sat, and silence fell.
“What’s going on?” Greyson asked. With their security outside, it was just the two of them. “What are you thinking about? You were good until I brought up the mermaids. We don’t have any live ones in holding somewhere that we’ve bought, do we?” he teased.
He laid it on the line.
“I think Petra is my biological child.”
Greyson blinked.
He hadn’t expected that. Dimitri switched topics pretty damn fast.
“Say again?”
“She couldn’t have been a product of my father’s rape. He was dead a few years before she was even conceived. He was not fertilizing eggs from the grave.”
“Then how could she possibly…?”
“I think I knocked a hooker up. There aren’t many possibilities. The ONLY other one would have to be Anastasia was still alive and hadn’t lied about being with child.”
And that was why he looked edgy.
Dimitri was pretty chill about most things unless it was offspring with the Marchenko DNA. After Viktor, he was paranoid that any more killers were running amuck.
Who could blame him?
Viktor killed Natasha, nearly killed Dimitri, and was a sick fuck. The DNA had gone off the rails thanks to a mother who hated the other family her lover had. If Anastasia was alive…
Oh, she’d really hate Dimitri.
He’d be worried too.
“Okay, and?”
“I want to find out.”
Greyson got it.
For his own sense of well-being, he needed to answer any questions that might come up.
“If she is…”
Greyson stopped him.
“You can’t live in that guilt. You can’t crucify yourself for not knowing. Yes, if she’s Anastasia’s child, she told you, but she should have died.”
He was aware.
“If it was a hooker, that’s not on you either. You didn’t knock a woman up and leave.”
The man knew him so well.
Dimitri felt horrible. He recalled one sex worker in Russia. It was one of the first hookers he’d hired. The condom broke, and he’d put it out of his mind.
But Petra’s eyes.
They were peculiar enough that Dimitri knew that it wasn’t a coincidence. While plenty of people had that aqua color, he’d yet to run into anyone with THEIR distinct characteristics. The aqua color seemed to get lighter toward the outer edge of the iris.
No.
She was not going to be his sister.
She was going to be his child.
Dimitri likely had sired his own child, and if that were the case, he had penance to do. She’d been used and sold for sex. He would have to make that right.
“I can ask for a DNA test,” Greyson offered. “Only, the FBI would then have both of your DNA. I know how you are with that. I know that you don’t like to leave a trail.”
He didn’t.
Only, this was different.
“Can you get it done without using our names? A blind test?” he asked.
“I can ask Aria Goodwin for a favor,” he suggested.
“I would appreciate it.”
Greyson understood how important this was to him, and he wanted to help his friend.
BUT…
There had to be a condition.
“I’ll do this for you,” he said, using his cheesy ‘godfather’ voice, trying to make the man laugh, “but I need something in return.”
“What is wrong with you?” Dimitri said, finding the whole thing amusing. “You’re losing your mind.”
As for the payment, he would do anything for his family, and he knew Greyson.
He didn’t just ask for shits and giggles.
There was a point.
Greyson snorted.
“The list is too long to even begin going there,” he stated, as Dimitri got the attention of a cigar girl.
“Two from my private reserve,” he stated.
“Yes, Mr. Gideon. Right away. Would you like a drink to go with that?”
He looked at his watch.
It was still early.
“Coffee for both of us.”
The woman hustled off.
“What is this favor going to cost me.”
“That you promise you’re not going to hop a flight, fly to Romania, slaughter a family to pay them back for what they did to Petra.”
He closed his mouth.
Greyson waited.
“No one, in my whole life, has known me like you do,” he stated. “I don’t like it.”
Greyson was aware.
That’s why he’d asked for this personal favor. He could picture Dimitri doing it. What they didn’t need was him on a mission to hunt down a not-so-dead wife, or a hooker.
Dimitri stared at him and weighed his options.
It was tough.
If Petra was his child, she’d been left behind, abused, and neglected. While Dimitri had many ‘children’, Kat, Nat, and Sam, if the little girl was legitimately his, that was a totally different story.
She was half him.
“Well?” Greyson asked as the woman came back carrying two of Dimitri’s cigars on a silver tray.
“We can prep them,” he said, as she offered to do it for them.
Neither man was in the mood.
When the coffees were placed before them, he knew it wouldn’t be long before the manager of the place found him.
Dimitri RARELY came there. It kind of weirded him out when mermaids would swim up behind him.
He’d created Aquarius to help people.
He’d created Neptune for Katerina and her childhood.
“I promise you that I won’t slaughter a whole family in retribution for my child or go after my wife if she’s alive.”
“Or torture them,” he added, just in case. Greyson was covering his bases.
He laughed.
“Are you becoming my priest?”
“Do you feel the need to call me father?” Greyson asked, lighting his cigar.
“Not really.”
“Then we’re good. Don’t do it. I know you, and it won’t make you feel better. It will make you feel so much worse. Let it go, Dimitri. Fight the battle at hand, not the past.”
He was right.
Of course.
“I will stay here.”
“Or hire a killer to do it for you.”
Dimitri laughed.
“You’re really no fun. This whole best friend thing isn’t as cool as it was two days ago.”
Oh, he was going to do the best friend thing and cut off any options for Dimitri to do something he’d regret.
That was his job.
“Listen. I was getting sex twice a day. Now, until after my son is born, it’s once in a
while. I have to fill my time with something. Meddling in your life appears to be my new hobby.”
“God, I hope you get laid soon.”
“From your mouth to God’s ears.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s not taking messages from us,” Dimitri stated. “We aren’t his favorite saints. We are his least favorite sinners.”
Yeah, he was aware.
Vegas had created that, and they’d broken a ton of commandments.
As they puffed away, a man headed their way. He was dressed in a suit, and he looked like he was running the place. It had to be the manager.
“Mr. Gideon, what can I do for you?” he asked. “You don’t patron the place often.”
Yeah, he was aware, but that was going to change. If Emma wanted to swim as a mermaid, it was his duty to torment the hell out of Greyson.
Call it payback for the promise he’d forced upon him.
Best friends had to have fun.
“It’s been a while, Nate. Let me introduce you to my good friend, Greyson.”
He did just that.
“No introductions are needed, sir. Everyone knows this man. Mr. Croft, it’s a pleasure,” he said, shaking his hand.
“Have a seat, Nate.”
The man did.
“What’s going on, Mr. Gideon? It’s not like you to come here. You’re not hearing bad things about us, are you?” he asked. “The club is in the black, and we are doing all we can to keep your club the way you instructed.”
He reassured him.
“No, Nate. I’m only hearing good things.”
The man looked relieved.
“Then what can I do for you today? Is this a social call?” the man asked.
“I need to talk to you about some potential people who have come in here.”
“Sure, sir.”
The waitress refreshed their coffee and brought one for her other boss. When she was gone, out of earshot, Dimitri continued.
“Have you seen this man?” he asked, showing him a picture of Zachary Lipton.
“No, sir.”
“How about him?” he asked, showing him another picture on his phone. It was one of Harold Cline.
The man shook his head.
“No, sir. Should I have seen him?”
He didn’t know.
Then again, Neptune’s card was found on the floor of a motel. It could have been there from another guest.
This might be a dead end.
He trusted his employees to do the job, and it looked like Nate was doing that and more.
“We’re looking for them. That’s all.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but they haven’t been in here,” Nate offered, sipping his coffee.
Well, this was a dead end.
At least they’d tried.
“That’s all I needed, Nate. Keep up the good work with the place,” he stated.
The man shook his hand and then Greyson’s.
“It’s my pleasure, sir. She’s like my baby. I love Neptune and want her to be a success.”
He appreciated that. His best employees were the ones who loved their jobs.
“Thank you, Nate.”
It was no sooner that he was gone, that Greyson had to burst his bubble.
“He’s lying his ass off.”
Dimitri’s coffee cup stopped halfway to his mouth, and he stared at his friend. He couldn’t have heard him right.
“Pardon?” he asked.
Oh, Greyson hadn’t become the head of the FBI out of Vegas because he looked scary.
He could read people.
It was good when you were a cop.
A poker player.
Or a mob boss.
In this case, it was all three.
“Nate was lying to you,” Greyson stated. “When he shook my hand—before yours, as he was leaving, it was wet. He was sweating and freaked-out about something.”
“His boss delivered a surprise visit. That could be why he was sweating,” Dimitri stated, believing in his staff. He trusted them and cared about the jobs they did. “He was likely worried I was here to deliver bad news.”
Greyson was surprised.
Dimitri didn’t often question him.
Really?
Now was the time he was going to do that?
Here?
“He kept looking down and to his left.”
“I was holding the phone below eye level, and to his left,” Dimitri stated, again, rationalizing it.
Greyson wasn’t buying it.
One of them was getting rusty, or off of their game, and it wasn’t going to be him.
Nope.
He’d bet money on it.
“And you call me paranoid?” Dimitri teased. “I think you’re making a mountain out of a molehill.”
Yeah, no.
“He is up to something. I can smell sneaky a mile away,” Greyson stated. “Who is he? Did you help him too?” Croft asked. Most of Dimitri’s businesses were run by people he’d saved from the business.
Neptune was not.
It was a legitimate business.
“No, I hired him when I was hunting for a manager to run the place.”
“I’m telling you, Max, he’s up to something,” he said, using his real name. “You need to trust me on this.”
Dimitri considered it.
Greyson was good at these things.
When their waitress came over carrying two bourbons, he lifted a brow.
He was pretty sure he said no to drinks.
When she put them down, Greyson’s was on his napkin, but his was slightly askew.
That was a big no-no for any of his waitresses. Dimitri was a stickler for perfection. He didn’t buy she had been nervous and screwed that up.
Shifting it further, that’s when he saw the writing on it.
“Thank you,” he said, noticing that Nate was watching them from across the room.
“We’re drinking?” Greyson asked. “That’s some efficient staff. I was just thinking how infuriating you are, and I could use some booze,” he teased.
Dimitri leaned back and puffed on his cigar. Yeah, it looked like Greyson had been right.
“There’s a note on my napkin,” he said in Russian, knowing Greyson knew enough to pick up the words.
He knew when he understood.
Greyson lifted a brow.
“What does it say?” he asked back, using Dimitri’s native tongue. The manager was hovering nearby, and he wanted to be sure he covered them.
Dimitri talked Russian to the kids.
To Emma.
To Poppy.
He didn’t talk it to him. There was a reason.
Dimitri picked up his glass and held it up for Greyson to clink his off of it. To anyone watching, it would look like two friends toasting a drink.
Perfect.
As he did it, he read the note.
‘He’s lying. Meet me at the coffee shop around the corner in fifteen. I have my break coming. You need to know what’s going on.’
And that sounded ominous.
Well, shit.
Greyson had been right.
“What does it say?” Greyson asked, again in Russian.
He told him.
The man laughed.
“I told you so.”
Dimitri was perplexed.
What the hell could possibly be going on at Neptune? He ran the place on the books. For Emma and Greyson, he’d stopped the gambling and running bets out of the place.
For them, he’d made it legit.
“Well, it looks like I’m getting my baked goods today after all,” Greyson said, sipping his drink.
Yeah, it looked like they were.
They finished their drinks, wrapped up the smoke-fest, and headed out to their vehicle.
When they got there, Nikita was behind the wheel, and Heath was gazing adoringly at her.
Jesus.
Their big bad tough guy was getting mushy over a Russian killer.
Ch
rist Almighty.
How could this possibly go bad?
“Where to?” Nikita asked as they hopped into the back of the luxury vehicle.
“I feel like a coffee and donut,” Greyson stated, dying to know what the waitress had to tell them. It should be interesting. It had better be interesting. After the Cloak and Dagger way of delivering the message, he hoped he wasn’t let down.
Vindication about being right was sweet.
Dimitri agreed.
“There’s a place around the corner,” he offered, not telling them why they were going there.
Honestly, he didn’t think they’d care. Heath was protecting a body, but it wasn’t theirs.
Clearly.
“Want a donut, Heath?” Greyson offered, so he wouldn’t be the only one carb loading. He knew Dimitri didn’t touch anything processed.
“Pass. I’m not hungry.”
They stared at him like he was possessed. There was no way the man turned down a baked good.
NO.
Freaking.
Way.
“Are you sure?”
“I had plenty of sweetness all-night long,” he crooned, checking out the cupcake right beside him. Yeah, she was the sweetest thing he ever put his mouth on.
Nikita parked and then smiled at him.
“Me too.”
“Well, it appears someone has picked up his sex life for all of us,” Greyson stated, laughing at the irony of all of it. Heath was falling for a woman who could be their worst nightmare if Blackhawk pulled her.
Then what?
“Don’t be a hater, Mr. C. It’s not pretty.”
He laughed.
Yeah, he supposed not.
“We’ll be a few minutes.”
“No worries,” Nikita stated. “We’ll be right here,” she promised.
“NO fornicating in my vehicle! If I find any fluids on this seat, I will fire you both. Got it?”
That he even had to say that proved how insane his life was at that point.
Instantly, Heath pouted.
It was clear that was EXACTLY what he’d planned.
Greyson said nothing more. He wasn’t sure what was worse. A sulking Heath, or a moon-eyed one.
It was a toss-up.
As they crossed the parking lot, Dimitri was silent. Greyson knew he was going to have two sulking people in the ride soon. If this was bad, Dimitri was going to flip his shit all over the place. He knew it.
There were three things he took seriously.
His kids.
His businesses.
No Justice_A Croft Mob Family Book Page 40
