by Sally J.
“I’ll get you some coffee. Meanwhile read this.” Thomas got up and tossed the paper to Trisha and disappeared towards the kitchen.
Trisha read the first page. The headlines were about some political…
“Fourth page.” said Thomas’ head as it popped back in for a second next to the doorframe and abruptly disappeared again.
Trisha flipped the sheets and her eyes rested on the top of the fourth page. The title read,
‘Russian Mafia Lord Acquitted In Case of Money Laundering. Court Cites Lack of Evidence. Prime Witness Untraceable.’
Below it was black and white printed photograph of a burly looking man in a suit, getting into a car. His face was not visible, the photograph having been taken as he was already half way in the car. There was police, photographers and a mob of news people gathered all around. Beside the door of the car stood two hugely built men, also in suits. As Trisha scrutinized the picture, Thomas came in with a cup of steaming coffee. He handed it to her and sat down behind the desk again.
“So what do you think, Trish? Aren’t we in a little above our heads? ”
Trish was still looking at the picture. She hadn’t even begun to read the article. She didn’t need to. Nikolay Yurkovich’s infamy had many such headlines to its name. But before yesterday it was just another intangible shadow of a person who existed only as a name in the papers and as a topic of casual discussion. Today, to Trisha, this was a living, breathing man. A man they were slated to meet this very night. She looked up at Thomas and said,
“Aren’t we in over our heads every time?”
She cocked her head, a sarcastic smile on her lips. But she knew Thomas was right this time. They were way in over their heads. This was a different world and they stood now precariously poised on its threshold. The meeting with Luca Silvestri was an insight as to the kind of men who inhabited this underground chasm. There were no laws, no rules; and a friend could become an enemy for the right price. Here people like them were outsiders, or more appropriately, intruders, who had trespassed uninvited. It was not a world in which you stepped in, did your job and got out. No, the specter of its jeopardous nature would forever be your companion. But in spite of all this hadn’t they already come too far? She tried to reason.
“There’s no way to turn back now. Don’t you think we would be putting ourselves at a bigger risk if we don’t show up tonight? This is Nikolay Yurkovich. And Luca has already fixed up the meet. You think they’ll just let it go if we stand them up? You don’t fuck with the Russian Mafia, Thomas!”
Trisha herself wasn’t convinced by the words coming out of her mouth. In truth, it was her penchant for adventure and the thrilling prospect of what the Dei Pi Ring would lead to that immensely fascinated her. The thought of the two ancient golden rings separated by centuries of theft, plundering and change of numerous hands finally would come together and reveal a map, which supposedly lead to an even bigger treasure. This was the stuff of dreams! Sure it was going to cost them. Fifty grand was a lot of money and who knows what else would come their way. But they had done well for themselves. Smart buying and selling in the art grey markets had left them with quite a bank balance. But above everything else it was her singular inner temperament to be attracted by things dark and dangerous, which pulled her towards this vortex of uncertainty and endangerment. She looked at Thomas. He had a soft smile on his face. He knew exactly what was going on in her mind. He knew how that convoluted mind of this sassy wife of his worked. Without protesting further he got up from the chair, came over to Trisha and kissed her on the forehead and said,
“Ok. Let’s have fun.”
With that he left the room.
*******
The clicking on Trisha’s stilettos resounded as she and Thomas made their way up the white marble staircase to the entrance of The Gaffardian Hall. This was no ordinary art display exhibition gallery. It was a place which welcomed only the high and mighty of the art world, wealthy socialites, and connoisseurs. It was not necessarily populated by people of high culture or with a deep understanding of the things on display, but mostly by people who were filthy rich or powerful.
The dress code was strictly formal and as evening galas of this nature usually were, it was arranged as a cocktail party. Trisha wore a long black satin gown; her auburn red hair fell about her shoulders. The silky fabric showed off her tall figure, but also accentuated her womanly curves and her ample assets in all the right places. A plunging neck made her look enticingly luscious. Thomas looked dapper in a back suit. He carried a briefcase by his side. In it was fifty thousand dollars. As they entered they were immediately engulfed in a sea of people in a huge brightly lit hall. They maneuvered their way to the midst of the crowd and looked around. Two huge marble staircases curved upwards from each side of the hall and led to the next floor. There were numerous people there also, standing along the polished stone balustrade, chatting amongst themselves. The whole place was filled with the clinking of champagne glasses and a low drone of chatter. Suits and evening dresses floated by and the atmosphere of high fashion and high luxury pervaded the room. It was a ritzy and swanky affair.
Luca had called earlier in the day and confirmed the meeting. He had also told how they were to find Nikolay Yurkovich. As per instructions Trisha and Thomas made their way towards the bar. It was crowded but they found two empty stools at the end of the counter. The barman approached them. He placed his hands on the counter.
“What can I get you, Sir? Madam?”
Trisha noticed a tattoo on the underside of the man’s wrist. From the quick glimpse that Trisha managed, it was what seemed like a symbol of a sword with a star next to it.
“I’ll have a whisky please. Soda,” said Thomas.
“Right away, Sir.” The barman turned around with his back to them, preparing the whisky.
“And I’ll have a Skinny Joe”, instructed Trisha. The barman’s head perked up. “With an olive.”
That was the cue. That was the code phrase Luca had informed them about. Nobody adds an olive to a Skinny Joe. The barman knew exactly who they were. He turned around to face them.
“Follow me.”
He led them across the hall to a small inconspicuous door in the corner. As he opened it they found themselves in a small lobby with two elevators. They soon got in one and it opened up onto the sixth floor. As the doors of the elevator opened, they realized that the floor they had reached was privately owned. The ambiance and décor had changed. The bright dazzling scene below had been replaced with one of dimmed lights and carpeted corridors. The colors were different hues of burgundy, brown and bronze. The barman led them along one such corridor to a room with a big wooden door. He knocked twice and pushed the door open, gesturing for Trisha and Thomas to enter. As they did, the odor of cigars hit Trisha. She loved cigars. But now was not the time to think about all that. Her eyes shifted to the middle of the room.
There was a big table, the top inlaid with green velvet. There were three men seated. Trisha’s eyes immediately fixated on the huge, somewhat bulky, bald man seated on the left. She recognized him immediately- Nikolay Yurkovich, there was no mistake. As she and Thomas approached the table, the barman went round beside to the left where Nikolay Yurkovich was seated. He bent down and whispered something in his ear. Nikolay Yurkovich immediately got up and this action was immediately followed by the two men seated to the right. He shook their hand and spoke in a deep rumbling voice.
“I’m sorry gentleman. I must ask you to excuse me now.” He gestured politely to Trisha and Thomas. “My guests have arrived.” The two men bowed slightly and took their leave. As they passed Trisha couldn’t help but notice their faces. She had definitely seen of one those faces somewhere. In the newspaper? Seemed very familiar.
“Please come. Make yourselves comfortable,” he gestured to the two empty chairs. His English was fluent, but his Russian accent was thick and guttural. “May I offer you something to drink?” He again gestured for them to tak
e a seat.
“Thank you so much Mr. Yurkovich, but I’ll just have some water” said Thomas.
Nikolay Yurkovich laughed a deep hearty laugh.
“You must be nervous, Mr. Spencer. Meeting with Russian Mafia Lord.” He chuckled again. “That’s what they call me in the newspapers, as you must know.”
Trisha was studying the man that towered in front of them. He was around six and a half feet tall and his wide frame made it seem even more. His shoulders were broad and even though he wore a suit, it was evident his arms were thick and muscular. The girth of his neck was wide and as he spoke he ran his hands over his bald head. Trisha noticed the big rings that adorned his thick powerful fingers, even his thumb; and it was that same tattoo that was etched on the underside of his wrist. The sword and the star.
“I am nothing but a business man,” he said continuing his own introduction. “And that is what we have gathered here for today, right? Business?” Trisha looked at him as he spoke. This was not the kind of behavior she had come expecting. Yes, his appearance was intimidating and formidable, but his courteousness and the straight-forward honest manner in which he spoke somewhat disarmed her. Somewhat a little bit at ease now, she smiled.
“Yes, business it is, Mr. Yurkovich.” She took the bag Thomas had been holding and placed it upon the table.
“No.No.No! This is not the way to make friends! Let us first get to know ourselves. Business will happen. Business can wait. ”. He smiled a pleasant smile at them. “You see I am a lover of the arts. That’s why I buy the kind of things that you have come for today. There are very few people who can appreciate its worth. I know that you can. And this is an unpleasant place for talking. We shall go to my yacht. After all that is where I have kept your object of interest. You can hardly expect me to keep it here. I hope you don’t mind? ”
Trisha didn’t know what to say. She looked at Thomas who was as blank as she was. Though she found the man far more hospitable than she had expected, she again quickly realized that underneath that façade was what he really was – the mob. And you don’t just say no to the mob. Something told her that talking was the last thing on Nikolay Yurkovich’s mind. You don’t build a reputation like his by discussing historical trinkets with history professors. She took a quick glance around the room. There were five extremely tough looking men standing in the corners and walls. Each one was heavily built, some heftier than Nikolay Yurkovich himself. Their arms and faces were filled with tattoos and their muscles bulged out from behind their shirts. She looked back at Nikolay Yurkovich. He was looking at her adjusting one of his rings. Though he had a pleasant smile on his face, Trisha knew that nothing from this point forward was a choice.
“That seems like a great idea.” She smiled at him.
“Perfect!” he said. He made a hand signal to his men.
Soon they were descending by the same lift they had taken to come up. The five or six beefy security men constantly followed them. As they reached the lobby, they were led outside by a side door. Right in front of where they exited was a huge black limousine, waiting. Behind it was a big black land rover. One the bodyguards stepped forward and opened the door of the limousine. Nikolay Yurkovich graciously lent his hand out to Trisha for support, gesturing her to get in. Out of courtesy Trisha held his hand and got into the back seat. The sitting space at the back was huge and spacious, but as Thomas stepped forward to enter after Trisha, Nikolay Yurkovich put out his arm.
“Mr. Spencer, I am sure you’ll find the front much more comfortable.” His glare pierced Thomas.
Thomas looked at Trisha who was already seated inside at the back. The bodyguard gestured to Thomas with his hands and led him to the front seat. Thomas got in.
Nikolay Yurkovich then got in at the back, beside Trisha. He closed the door. Trisha looked back through the rear window pane and noticed all the security men that were following them getting in to the black land rover behind. Nikolay Yurkovich tapped the driver on his shoulder and said something in Russian. The car started and slowly glided out. The security vehicle followed. As they curved onto the road, there was nothing but the very faint hum of the engine to break the awkward silence. They had driven for just a few minutes, when Nikolay Yurkovich tapped Thomas on the shoulder. Thomas turned around and looked back.
“I must confess,” Nikolay Yurkovich said.
Thomas raised his eyebrows, puzzled .He looked at his beautiful wife was seated next to this brute of a man. He knew himself to be a very calm and self-composed person, but now he felt intimidated and somewhat powerless.
Nikolay Yurkovich looked straight at Thomas. Then he turned and looked at Trisha beside him and again back at Thomas. He leaned slightly forward towards Thomas, in the front seat. He then placed his huge paw on the Trisha’s thigh and rubbed it up and down. A sneer-like grin appeared on his face. He growled,
“There’s really nothing like the smell of warm cunt.”
The limousine sped into the night towards the wharf, where the Star and The Sword was docked.
******************
Conclusion
What happens to Thomas and Trisha at the Mafia boss’ yacht? Do they get their hands on the Dei Pi Ring? And can they decipher where it points to next? As they head to the STAR AND THE SWORD in the Mafia boss’ limousine , followed by his posse of beefy bodyguards, only one thing crosses Thomas Spencer’s mind. How many such men can his sexy wife take on?
CHECK OUT MY OTHER BOOKS ON KINDLE:
Searching For Mr. Right: Steamy Erotic Romance Novel
Texan Instincts – Part 1: A Romantic Novel
Trish’s Treasure Box: Part1: The Hunt Begins
Trish’s Treasure Box: Part2: The Circles Grow Small
