Undercover Intentions

by Sapphire Knight

  “I look forward to it, and I’ll pass along the invite.” I nod, turning to gaze at the white-haired woman. “Do you have a name?”

  She peers up at me through long lashes and sad eyes. “Whatever you wish to call me is my name.”

  So not only are they selling human beings but they’re brainwashing them as well. I hope she can tell me something that will help in my search. I probably come off as a heartless bastard, which is a good way for Yema to think of me. If I hadn’t already seen so much fucked up shit going on being undercover, I’d be a goddamn mess right now. Experience is keeping me grounded and alive at the moment, nothing else.

  “What was it they called you up on the stage?”

  “Trixie.”

  “That’s your real name?”

  She shrugs like she’s unsure.

  Fanfuckingtastic.

  “Hmmm, you’re not a Trixie. I’m going to call you Willow.”

  “Oh, I like that name.” She smiles softly, and Yema scoffs, glaring down at her until her eyes hit the floor again.

  “Yema, until next week,” I interrupt, and he responds, shaking my hand and thanking me for my business.

  I didn’t just go shopping for fuck’s sake. This is a person, not a new pair of shoes.

  Wrapping my arm around Willow, I pull her close and start our trek to the elevator. “Come on, sweetheart.” She comes willingly, riding up the few floors until we hit the parking garage.

  “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?” She finally breaks the silence once we’re in my rented Cadillac CTS and she’s securely buckled in.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because you have kind eyes. The others didn’t look like yours; they didn’t watch me like you do.”

  “You hold that thought, and we’ll talk about it a little later. Right now I want you to finish that Gatorade.” I gesture to the half full container of red liquid that I’d purchased after getting my rental.

  “All of it?”

  “Yep, every drop.”

  “Would it be okay if I saved some? I would like part of it tomorrow also.”

  Jesus fucking Christ, I swear I’m going to kill someone for this shit.

  “No, you drink it all. I’ll buy you a case of it for tomorrow if you would like.”

  She squeals happily, rushing to get the cap off so she can chug the still-cold beverage.

  Afterward, she hums, pleased. “Thank you so much for being the one to buy me. I’ll do whatever you wish, I promise.”

  “Good. We’re going to get on my father’s plane. It’s waiting for us at the airport, and then we’re leaving here as quickly as possible.”

  “Where will we go?”

  “To Tennessee.”

  “Is that your home?”

  “No. We’re going to visit my cousins; they live there. I’m going to have one of their guards, Alexei keep you safe.”

  “Oh.” She says more quietly. “Is he a mean man?” she asks, nearly whispering the words. Her English is great; you’d barely be able to hear the Russian to her words if you weren’t listening for it.

  “No. No one will be unkind to you, Willow. That I promise you.”

  She lets out a relieved breath, sinking into the seat like she’s able to finally let her body relax. And it makes me want to catch all of these fuckers even more. Before it was about finding Niko’s sister. Now it’s about rescuing these women and eventually handing over the perps to my cousins.

  Our justice system could never punish them severely enough to atone for their sins. Tate and Viktor can. This is what Mo meant about me making up my decision how to go about things later down the road. He knew I’d feel this way, that a jail cell wasn’t a strong enough punishment for these types of monsters I’m dealing with now.

  ‘Me, Myself and I’ by G-Eazy comes on the radio, so I turn it up. The music relaxes Willow further, and she’s fast asleep by the time we reach the private airport where my father’s jet’s waiting on standby. I’d bet that liquid she drank was the only thing she’d had to eat or drink today, and that’s why she was able to fall asleep. She’ll never go back to a life like that again; I’ll make sure of it.

  The flight’s a swift one. No stops on a private plane makes any trip hassle free. I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful for having a rich father with all the traveling I’ve been doing. I appreciate him footing this bill; although I’m a little antsy about how he’ll react to my Russian Mafiya declaration and sticking him with a huge tab. According to my mother, my father will help me no matter what I need; all I have to do is ask. I’m not the type to go requesting favors though. As far as I’m concerned, this is all to help out his family, and I’m the one doing the favors here.

  “Where are we?” Willow mutters groggily as I help her get loaded into the waiting SUV. She yawns and stretches her thin limbs.

  “We’ve made it to Tennessee. Now we’re headed to my cousin Viktor’s cabin. It’s still a ways from here. It’s not too long, but you can sleep some more if you’d like.”

  “You’re not tired yet?”

  “My head was fuzzy earlier, but I was able to nap a little on the plane. I’m used to sleeping odd amounts of time. I’ll be okay to drive us.”

  “Okay.” She nods, curling up toward the window once I close her door. She looks so soft and innocent sleeping against the door like that. No one would ever guess that she was just purchased from an underground sex-trade auction.

  I get comfortable, adjusting the seat and mirrors to my liking and start on the drive to Viktor’s, running over each face and name I can remember what feels like a million times to commit them to memory.

  Strength does not come from

  physical capacity. It comes from

  an indomitable will.

  -Gandhi

  It’s around three a.m. when my cousins arrive from their own flight. Tate’s hammered, off bourbon if I had to guess, so he heads straight for a guest room without two words in passing. Viktor, his right-hand man Alexei, Tate’s right-hand man Niko, and Viktor’s wife Elaina’s guard Spartak each take a seat around the kitchen table. Fatigue’s written all over their features from the long day that they obviously had themselves.

  “Sorry I had to flake out on you guys, but some shit came up.”

  They’re always inviting me to different events, and somehow I never end up joining them for one reason or another. After a while, it’s made me start to feel like a real dick for blowing them off.

  “Clearly, you had important business keeping you,” Viktor replies, easily accepting my excuse. He always does though; I think it’s one of the main reasons why we get along so well. We both have busy lives, and we both easily accept it from the other.

  Niko sits forward, drinking from the large Styrofoam cup that holds what smells like vanilla coffee. “Is this because of the chick sleeping on the couch?” he asks bluntly.

  “Yes.” I scrub my palm over my face, sighing. “I discovered a little more than what I was expecting tonight. The Morellis got me into an ‘event’ of sorts. I thought it was merely a stuffy charity function; turns out that late at night, it’s an auction. Not just any kind of auction though. I bought the woman on the couch. I had to announce that I was part of the Russian Mafiya to the entire damn crowd to get them to let me have her. It was fun, I’ll say that much. I thought we were going to be gunned down getting into the elevator.”

  Viktor’s hand slams onto the tabletop. “Fuck. Not good.”

  “Nyet. Not good, Copper.” Niko shakes his head, calling me by the nickname he’s so cleverly dubbed me with. Being that I’m a cop and all, his creativeness is astounding sometimes. His serious gaze remains trained on a steak knife left on the table, waiting for me to continue, and the other two men remain quiet, listening to everything.

  “I didn’t have a choice. They doubted me, and in that instant my options were limited. Plus I had no way to pay for the girl, and you should’ve seen the scum that was salivating over them all
. If I weren't on leave right now, I would’ve flashed my damn badge and called in for some backup or something. Hell, I doubt SWAT would’ve caught them all, there were so many people stuffed in that room.”

  “You’re being punished for doing your cop job, not off on vacation. And what do you mean all? There were other women for sale in this place?” Niko’s Russian accent’s thick as he attempts to keep his cool. His words leave him in a rush, alternating between Russian and English as his eyes finally meet mine. There’s anger brewing in their depths, so much going through his mind, no doubt about his kidnapped sister and if she could’ve been there tonight.

  “Yes, there were a lot more.”

  “Usually the sales are smaller, only three or four women being sold and held in one location,” Alexei interrupts. He may belong to the Bratva, but most of the time he thinks things over like a cop. I respect him and his choices. He’s not careless like I’ve witnessed so many other criminals be, and he helps keep my cousins safe.

  “I have no clue how many there actually were tonight. It seemed like they were being herded in and out like cattle. One by one, they trekked up onto the stage and then were sold within minutes.” I nod toward the living room. “I grabbed her, Willow. But like I said, there were so many others. It killed me to leave and let it all happen like it did. I wanted to bring them all with me.”

  “You think my sister was there?” Niko peers at me, hopeful but wary all the same.

  “I’m not one hundred percent sure, but there’s a chance she could be. Anything’s possible. You know that from finding your other sister. I did tell them my type was tall blonde women though, and they didn’t show me any, just short women.”

  “She could have any color hair, who knows.” He glowers, angry at the thought of her being trafficked into the sex trade.

  “This wasn’t the first occurrence, from my understanding. This seems to happen all the time, which is horrifying; but in this instance, it’s good for us to find out more information. Attendees have to be invited and then placed on an approved list to even enter, and that goes for both events. There’s the boring charity for all the wives to start the evening. Once that charade is over, the wives and drivers leave, so it looks like the event is over, and everyone went home. Then in the basement, all the men stay to drink and bid on ‘prizes.’ It’s fucking sickening and yet genius all rolled into one.”

  “So how do we stop it?” Viktor mumbles, thinking out loud while tapping his fingers on the table. He’s a smart man and no doubt he has a few scenarios running through his mind on the best way we should handle this.

  “There’s another charity function coming up. I’m supposedly already invited. The guy in charge is supposed to get me a group of blondes. He thinks I’m some spoiled manwhore spending my trust fund from my father.”

  “Shit, an entire group? Does he know who your father is?” Spartak asks, astonished.

  “Yep, the guy told me he could get them in bulk. Spoke about it like I was at Sam’s Club buying paper towels or some shit. Fucking sicko. And I’m not sure if he realized exactly who I am; another approached me too.”

  “Bastards!” Niko complains angrily.

  “Were you able to find out who any of them are?” Alexei asks, on the same page as Viktor, working out what to do next.

  “The guy I spoke to was called Yema.”

  Alexei’s fingers pull at his stubble along his jaw as he ponders over the name. “Was there any mention of Luciano or Leopoldo Franchetti?”

  Viktor’s eyes grow wide as understanding hits him on where Alexei’s going with this. “You think the UFC fight we were at in Chicago was a cover for the Franchettis? They would’ve had an alibi if the auction got busted, and if it didn’t, then they were in town to handle business.”

  “Makes sense,” Alexei agrees.

  “Yes, briefly. Well, Morelli said he’d call his uncle to ask if he knew anything. He said Luciano. I asked if it was Franchetti, but he never confirmed my suspicion. I didn’t hear the name Leopoldo at all, however. Do they have a brother named Yema? I think the guy I spoke to was the brother of whoever was in charge, but I’m pretty sure his last name was Capelloni unless that was bullshit too.”

  Viktor shakes his head. “No, he may have let you think he was the brother or some of their people may be saying that, but they’d never put themselves open to risk like that. Yema was probably just another soldier acting like he’s more important than he really is. To someone new like you, for example, you think you’re dealing with one of the bosses so if shit goes down, the real bosses stay safe and out of it. The lower guy takes the fall or in some cases, dies. The Franchettis are Sicilian royalty and never get busted for anything. They’re always somehow in the clear when something goes down. This would be a prime example of how they pull it off.”

  Well shit! I thought I was making so much headway. I know what they’re saying about the fall guy is true; I should have seen right through it with all my undercover training. Sasha had me distracted along with the drinks and then with them having the element of surprise. I won’t be fooled so easily next time: I’ll make sure of it.

  “Then that makes the Morellis related to the Franchettis and part of the Sicilian side of things.” I begin piecing it all together like a giant puzzle.

  “Yes,” Viktor confirms. “Capelloni sounds like one of the houses in New York. There’s a chance that the families are working together and that’s why it’s so hard to peg anything concrete down on who’s responsible.”

  “How’s your relationship with them?”

  “We haven’t had too much of a ripple from them since we got out of the sex business. We practically gave it to them, and they stay out of our way when it comes to weapons. With us poking our noses in their auctions though, expect things to get a bit out of control. You definitely need to watch your back more, maybe keep one of the guards with you.”

  “I don’t want the kind of attention on me that having a guard around will bring.”

  “They already know you’re Russian. Think Beau; if you’re the spoiled rich boy, doing whatever you want, and spending papa’s money…Any father in this family would have protection on you to keep you alive. You’d look like less of a threat if you had one with you. No one knows that you’re a badass underneath that suit.”

  I shrug, not thrilled with the idea but not ready to admit yet that he’s most likely right.

  “What do we do with the mouse?” Niko mumbles, interrupting.

  My cousin glances over at me, showing me respect by letting me decide what we do.

  “I was going to speak with you about Alexei keeping an eye on her. Would it be a problem?”

  I assured Willow that they’d be nice and protect her. I probably should’ve asked my cousin before me spouting off those promises though. If push comes to shove, I can figure out a safe space but would prefer having my cousin’s assistance.

  Alexei protests quietly. “Me? We have plenty of other guards.” Evidently, he’s not too amused with the prospect of having babysitting duties and me so easily volunteering him for them.

  “If you want her to stay here, I think it’s a smart idea, and I agree.” Viktor nods his approval.

  He turns to his right hand. “Lexei can make her feel safe, which judging by the women we’ve already discovered from this underground sex trading, feeling safe will be very important for her. Now, let’s all get some sleep, and we can discuss this further tomorrow. Once my brother has slept off some of his stupor, perhaps he’ll have suggestions. I’m sure there’s much more we need to hash out as well.” Viktor stands, and we all copy him, pushing in our chairs.

  “There is,” I confirm. “I appreciate your help.” Reaching out, I offer him my hand, grateful.

  He shakes it, nodding to me and then ordering Alexei. “Lexei, carry her to your bed, she can sleep with you. She may be scared being around the other guards, and you have a private room.”

  “She hasn’t even met me yet, and I have
a small bed.” The wrinkle on his forehead grows more prominent with his disgruntled frown.

  Viktor remains silent, staring down his General, daring him to argue further with his orders.

  “I’ll put her against the wall, then I can watch her, and she won’t fall out of the bed.” He finally relents, satisfying his boss.

  “I have a bed and a beautiful blonde printsyessa waiting for me; I’ll see you all tomorrow.” Viktor declares tiredly, and we all bid each other good night.

  I head to the guest room I always use whenever I visit. The cabin was tiny the first time I came around, but with the family growing, Viktor and Elaina have expanded their home. It’s more of a fancy compound now with everyone always around.

  It’s peaceful, and I find myself forgetting about the outside world when I’m here surrounded by my family. Funny, growing up, I never thought that I’d ever consider them as my ‘family,’ but they are. We’re more alike than I’d care to admit sometimes. I’ve had time to make peace with it though, and it’s comforting knowing I have someone else to turn to besides my mother.

  Sleep overtakes my body nearly as soon as my head hits the pillow with dreams of a specific beauty filling my mind.

  Morning comes far too quick for my liking, but I have work to do, so I man up and face the day. The hot shower feels fantastic against my skin as I try to scrub last night’s filth off me. No matter how much soap I use, I can’t stop thinking of those women in the building’s basement.

  Imagine your own daughter being taken from your home in the middle of the night. She’s then tortured and raped until a certain age, or she reaches a submissive state then traipsed across a stage, where she’s put on sale for some old sicko with a little girl fetish. That’s what I think of when I have to look at these men’s faces. Well, that and I also imagine gutting them for it.

  “Breakfast?” Viktor’s wife asks as I come into the kitchen, dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and T-shirt. Tate and I dress fairly the same; Viktor, however, always looks as if he’s headed to a business meeting.