The Handler : A Dark Russian Mafia Romance (The Cells of Kalashov Book 2) Read online

  “You want me to go with you, boss?” It’s Michail who asks.

  He’s always the one I take, but not today. I can’t seem to forget how Lenny had stared at Evie in the limo. It shouldn’t bother me, but it does.

  “You stay here. I’ll take Lenny.”

  Lenny covers up his surprise quickly and follows me into the elevator. I tug on my suit jacket, and as I look up, Evie is still staring at me with horror shining in her big blue eyes. I don’t blink until the doors close, cutting me off from the beauty.

  I was going to the boat. I needed to see what happened for myself and try to understand why Evie is lying.

  CHAPTER TWO

  EVIE

  I don’t move long after Lucca leaves.

  The space around me sways and dissolves until I’m back in the loading bay.

  I’m curled up as small as possible, my heart beating faster than the wings of a trapped butterfly. Leah, one of the girls, always caught them in a glass and enjoyed watching them trying to escape when it wasn’t possible. She said that was us—a beautiful butterfly in a glass cage.

  I never showed my irritation towards her; instead, I would wait until she got bored watching the butterfly panic and flap and leave the room. Once she was gone, I would lift the glass, setting the butterfly free. It soared to the ceiling, looking for a way out. The windows had bars on them, but I could open it enough to allow the butterfly its freedom.

  I knew I would be free one day, too. Releasing them gave me hope. Releasing them made me feel I had power over something in my life.

  My stomach tightens as I think about how that turned out. Hiding behind all the crates, fearing the security could hear my heartbeat thrash in my chest.

  “Evie.” My name had been repeated, barked, and I knew if they found me, my disobedience wouldn’t go unpunished. It wouldn’t be a slap on my wrist. My shoulder aches again, a wound long healed, but it’s a different kind of pain. I think they call it phantom pain. Like when someone loses a leg, initially they still think it’s there, they still want to scratch an itch, they still want to stretch out a muscle or just wiggle their toes.

  My wound still burns and throbs with its own deeply rooted phantom pain.

  I slowly come back to Lucca’s living space, and I’m ready to reach back and touch the old wound on my shoulder, but I don’t.

  I glance to the left, where one of his security watches me. I raise my chin higher, trying to hide the pure fear that wants my frame to crumble and bend in two.

  “I’d like to be shown my sleeping quarters,” I speak as clearly as possible.

  He doesn’t smile or give any indication that he heard me, that is, until he moves. His footsteps are extremely quiet on the marble flooring. The solid black shoes I expect to make a tapping noise are soundless, like my bare feet. I gather the dress higher, not wanting to trip, and all my training about walking with grace comes flowing back into my mind without my permission. It’s in me, like a path laid in my brain. I fear I’ll never dismantle it. Maybe I could build a fresh path alongside it one day, but I can never remove it. I just know it. Like I know, it’s air that fills my lungs.

  The security man pushes a door open but doesn’t enter. He pushes a small black device in his ear.

  “Pavel. I’m taking her to the third guest room. Do you want to cover the door?” He stands and waits for a reply, nods at the large white wooden door before standing aside.

  I enter, not surprised that someone will watch the door. I don’t close it. It wasn’t something we were ever allowed.

  Pavel’s footsteps are heavy, and I listen to the rhythm as he makes his way down the hallway. He arrives at the door and gives me a once-over with disinterest in his brown eyes before facing forward.

  The door remains open as I turn to the guest room. It’s large. But I’m used to large. I’m used to luxury, and this is luxury.

  My heart stutters and stalls in my chest, and I cover it with my hand, not wanting it to grow frantic. It’s Leah’s screams. They were the loudest. I open the wardrobe; it’s empty apart from towels, linens, and a dressing gown.

  Closing the doors, I take my time and move around the room. A smile that shouldn’t be possible crosses my lips, and I bite my lip to stop it. I have no right to smile. But on the head of the four-poster bed is a carving of a mermaid ready to jump into the waves that rise up to greet her. I want to touch the waves, even brown and wooden, there is a beauty to whoever carved them, and I’m moving until the tips of my fingers touch the cold wood. I tilt my head and close my eyes, trying to remember the feel of the water on my fingers, but it doesn’t come rushing back like I’d hoped it would.

  My eyes snap open, and I’m moving towards a large arched space. There are no doors, but plants act as a concealment as I step into a bathroom that’s as large as the bedroom. A tub that you can step down into becomes my sole focus.

  We never had the luxury of our own wash space. Someone did that for us. Different faces, half-covered with red material, would arrive twice a week, and we would be bathed in the same room.

  My hands fumble with the taps, and ice-cold water sprays out. The shock of the cold water has a scream falling from my lips that’s so close to a laugh.

  Pavel’s heavy footfalls have me looking at the archway as he steps into the bathroom.

  He doesn’t ask me what I’m doing, fully clothed in a bathtub. He presses the black device in his ear.

  “All clear,” he says before turning and leaving me. The water is freezing as I kneel down and hold my hands under it. A tremble starts quickly, but it jump-starts memories that I have craved for far too long.

  I’m screaming as something large splits the water behind me. Panic, glee, and something that I can’t explain has my small chest pumping as I focus on the shore ahead of me. Large, strong arms wrap around my waist, and I’m airborne.

  “I got you.” My dads’ voice is muffled as he pretends to eat my stomach. He got me every time we played this game. He was the shark and me, the victim.

  His face fades, and I push my arms under the cold water, trying to revive it, but his face disappears. Tears of joy and pain make a pathway down my cheeks as I hunker over and try to force my foggy brain to bring my dad back to me, but it’s too distant. I can still see the freckles on his arms, along with the silver bracelet with a Celtic design that he wore on his right wrist and never took off. I’m shaking from the cold water, I’m shaking from what just happened, and I’m shaking from my past. I turn off the taps and sit in the cold tub until I have no choice but to get out. Standing, the white dress is heavy. Reaching back, it’s a struggle to open the buttons, but I manage to get them open. The heavy material pools around my feet, and I climb the three steps out of the tub. A full-length gold mirror covers a third of the far wall.

  I’m not the girl I see in my head. I’m not a girl. Time has frozen for me inside, but on the outside, I’m a woman who’s fully developed. I separate my long black hair and bring it forward to cover my large breasts. The white panties leave nothing to the imagination as I step quickly across the room and pick up a towel. I wrap it tightly around my body.

  My body is a temple. I’m a goddess that would be adored and cherished. That was the teaching. We had learned about different men, some attractive, some not so much. But we had to learn their names, likes, dislikes. If they selected us, we had to know about them.

  Some girls left our group very early on, and fresh girls replaced them. But most of us grew up together.

  Lucca wasn’t one of the men we learned about. I would never forget someone like him. My cheeks burn as I leave the bathroom.

  I can picture the girls’ reactions if Lucca was one of the selected. I’m sure he would cause quite the stir. Opening the wardrobe, I take out a nightdress and wrap it around my body. Once I’m covered up, I let the towel fall to the floor.

  I spot a pair of white-feathered feminine slippers at the bottom of the wardrobe. I’m ready to slip them on but pause. I love the fr
eedom of not wearing shoes. We always had to wear soft slippers. No hard skin would ever be allowed to develop on our feet.

  I close the wardrobe door, and a sense of elation has my stomach squirming. I’m looking at the door expecting to see one of the girls, expecting them to tell on me, but it’s just the back of Pavel’s head.

  The room grows smaller, robbing me of my earlier reprieve.

  “May I explore the penthouse?”

  Pavel turns to me, his soft brown eyes not really belonging to the hard set of his jaw. A contradiction that left me unsure if I should relax or accuse him of his deceitful eyes.

  “She wants to ‘explore’ the penthouse.” He emphasizes the word explore. His gaze never leaves me as he speaks to the other security member on the end of the mic.

  He steps aside. “Go ahead.”

  I hold my head high as I pass him. I pause at the door and decide to take a left. The hallway isn’t very wide, and the lighting is low. I’m not alone. Pavel’s clunky shoes give him away as he follows a few paces behind me. I open each door but don’t enter the rooms. Three bedrooms, a gym, two locked doors have me circling back towards my room. I don’t enter but keep walking until I’m back in the large open space. Windows that run floor to ceiling flood the space with light. I don’t go over to see the city below. Heights aren’t something I like. I continue walking into a kitchen area; that’s where the other security man is. His eyes aren’t soft. The blue in them is washed out like he’s seen too much from life. He has that same hard set of his jaw that Pavel displays.

  I keep walking, opening more doors, a study that doesn’t look like it’s been used. Two storage rooms, two more locked doors, and a master bathroom that I do step into. Two large white statues of a lion are placed on either side of the entry. The room is tiled black and white, and it takes me a moment to realize the whole room is a wet room. Several shower heads hang overhead—their golden heads like large-sized plates. Walls of red brick are placed around the space with lots of plants on them. I can only imagine this room flooded in water.

  “Yeah, okay.” I half turn towards Pavel’s voice. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he says and leaves the room.

  I listen to his footsteps, and I’m moving to the door as he disappears around the corner, and it’s the first time no one is watching me.

  I’m blinking, my mind screaming for me to run, but I calm the storm inside me. That kind of panic will get me nowhere. I need to learn and fast. I’m moving, remembering the study. Saliva pools in my mouth as I think about what I’m going to do.

  I pause at the study door before entering. Pavel’s footsteps are distant as I slip into the room. There on the table is a phone; An actual phone. I close the door and listen for Pavel. But there is nothing. The floor under my feet seems to grow further away as I walk to the phone. I’m sure it’s a mirage, but as I touch the device, my heart soars.

  Picking it up, I’m slow at bringing it to my ear, expecting to hear a dead tone, but it’s live.

  My fingers move across the number pad, my heart filling my throat. A disconnected number has me swallowing more saliva.

  No.

  I dial my home number again and again until my heart truly feels like it will shatter on the floor.

  No.

  Eight years. It had been eight years since I disappeared from the shore of County Clare.

  Eight years since I saw my home. Eight years and now, I was forgotten.

  CHAPTER THREE

  LUCCA

  I’m met by security at the docked boat. They must have been stationed here.

  They don’t ask me who I am. They already know. A gate is opened, and I walk from the platform onto the ship.

  “Has anything been removed?” I ask the security who follows me in.

  “No, we were told not to touch anything. That everything had to be left for you to see first.”

  Good.

  Another set of security is just at the entrance as I enter the ship.

  “I want to see the security room.” That is my first request to see the setup.

  “This way.” I’m led down a wide hallway. The inside of the ship is luxurious.

  Nothing is out of place. The floor we walk down is clean. I duck my head as we enter a large security room. Seven stations circle the room, each one with several screens.

  The security moves ahead of me.

  “This one watches the resursy quarters.”

  I sit down in the chair. “You know they are human?” I ask as I turn on the screens that had darkened.

  “We must always refer to them as assets.”

  I glance back at him over my shoulder. “What’s your name?”

  “Sacha, sir.” He stands taller.

  “Okay, Sacha. You know how to operate all this?”

  He nods, and I get out of the chair.

  Each camera blinks to life. Bedrooms, a large sitting room. Each room is empty.

  “This stream is fed to one place.”

  Sacha gets up and taps at a large black box in the center of the room. “It all goes here. Backup is in the lower decks. Both of them were wiped.”

  Someone did their homework.

  “Take me to the girls’ rooms.”

  I follow Sacha, and it’s a maze. You would have to either have a map or be familiar with the layout.

  “I want a roster of everyone who worked here in the last six months. I don’t care if they scrubbed a toilet or steered the boat.”

  Sacha nods. “That’s already in the process of being prepared for you.”

  The room we enter is large, and it’s one I’ve seen on the cameras.

  “Which one is Evie’s?” I’m looking at all the beds, waiting for Sacha to point her space out to me.

  “We didn’t know their names. So I don’t know.”

  I’m looking at Sacha now. “How long have you worked on the ship?”

  “Three years.” His answer is swift.

  “And you never saw which bed the girls got into.”

  “This is the first time I’ve ever stood in this room. Only women were allowed.”

  They really didn’t want anyone to defile these women. I move around the room, but there are no trinkets. Every girl seems to have the same space, the same items. There is nothing to suggest any individual qualities.

  I go through all the girls’ rooms but find nothing.

  “One of the girls was sick. Do you know which one?” I ask.

  “I can find out,” Sacha says as we re-enter the hall.

  “Take me to the loading dock.”

  Sacha’s face hardens at the mention of the loading dock, and I’m assuming I’m in for a treat.

  I am.

  Ten bodies are scattered around the space. Small pools of blood have gathered around their heads and shoulders from the large gaping wounds across their throats.

  I scan over all the bodies. The slice is clean. Whoever did it was left-handed. The cut starts shorter on the left side and deepens into the right.

  “No footage from this space?” I ask, already knowing it’s gone. But I still ask.

  “None. Everything throughout the ship was wiped.” Sacha informs me from the door.

  Each kill is the exact same. Someone who was fast, silent, or maybe there were several of them.

  I bend down and look for any more markings on the bodies, but the only wound is the slice across their throats. This security man’s face is covered in acne. I move to the next and notice a small red dot just along his jawline. It might be nothing, but as I continue to check, I see it on all men.

  “When are they being sent for autopsies?”

  Sacha’s laugh is quick and short as I look at him. “They aren’t. Their throats were slit.”

  I rise and look around the floor, I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but I don’t find anything. “I want a full autopsy performed,” I say and glance at him.

  He nods. “Okay.” He doesn’t sound convinced, but I’m not here to convince him. I
’m here to find out whoever did this, and from the looks of it, the security wasn’t at full capacity. The small red mark could be a tranquilizer. Maybe.

  “What’s in the crates?” I ask, pointing at the large stack of them.

  “Food,” Sacha answers.

  I walk over to the first one and try to pry it open, but can’t with my small penknife.

  “Can you open one?”

  Sacha gives me the same look he just gave me a moment ago when I suggested that the bodies needed to be autopsied. He goes to a small station and reappears with a crowbar. I stand back as he pries the crate open. Once it’s open, I lean in.

  Sacha doesn’t say anything about the stacks of cocaine inside the crates, but as I glance at him, I can see the surprise in his eyes. I cut open the bag and taste it.

  It’s cocaine, just like I thought.

  “I’ll need the log for the loading dock for the last six months too.” I wasn’t sure if any of this was linked or if the men were told it was food so they wouldn’t go near it, but either way, I needed to do a thorough check.

  I stay another thirty minutes going through the ship, but nothing is out of the ordinary. Sacha promises to get all the paperwork back to my penthouse within a few days.

  “Pavel is watching her,” Michail informs me the moment I step into the penthouse. I remove my jacket and think of how best to approach her. She isn’t forthcoming with information about what happened, and I want the reason why that is.

  I rest my suit jacket on the arm of the couch before I make my way down the hall. Pavel greets me at the open door, and I don’t pause but step into one of the guest bedrooms. There’s no sign of Evie.

  The plants on either side of the archway into the bathroom had me tilting my head to try to see her. I pause as I step into the bathroom. She’s standing across from a large golden mirror, looking at herself. Her large breasts are perky. The pink nipples have my cock hardening against my trousers.

  Breasts that have never been touched by a man. The longer I stare at them, the harder my cock grows.