The Devil's Beauty (Crime Lord Interconnected Standalone Book 2) (36 page)

“Sir…?” The driver abruptly broke off when Dimitri’s gaze snapped up, narrowed with warning.

“Okay, um…” Penny bit her lip, thought for a moment. “Do you have an office?”

Dimitri shook his head.

“That’s okay!” She cleared her throat and turned to the sheet of glass separating them from the uncomfortable man on the other side. “Corner of Teal and Warden, please.”

“What’s there?” Dimitri asked.

Penny sat back, adjusting her box more comfortable on her lap. “Nothing, but at least we’re not just sitting here, and by the time we get there, maybe we’ll have a plan. So, what are your plans?” she asked as the car turned into the flow of afternoon traffic.

Judging by its thickness, he guessed a two-hour drive to where they were going. That suited him fine. He liked driving. It cleared his head.

“I really don’t have one,” he admitted, admiring the driver’s tenacity when he cut three cars off and still flipped them off when they leaned on their horns.

“Okay…”

Items were shoved carelessly around in the box as she dug through them. He watched as she mumbled absently to herself while pulling out a fake, potted plant, a stapler, several hair elastics, a makeup case, and a framed photo.

That caught his eye. He tilted his head slightly to study the boy grinning back at the camera, holding a trophy three times his size.

“Brother?”

“Hmm?” Penny lifted her head, swiped back several locks of pale hair and followed his gaze. “Oh no, that’s my son, Daniel.”

Dimitri blinked. “He’s, what? Eight?”

“Nine.” She peered at the photo, lips curved in a soft smile.

He really looked at the woman seated next to him, attempting to judge her age. It really made no difference, but he’d been under the assumption she was in her early twenties.

“You don’t look old enough to have a nine-year-old,” he told her honestly.

Penny laughed and tucked the frame back into the box. “I was sixteen when I had him. He’s my whole world.”

“What’s the trophy for?”

Her grin blossomed into an arrogant smirk only a mother could pull off. “He’s also a genius.” She pulled the photo out again and showed him. “First place at the National Artificial Intelligence Competition—NAIC. That’s where kids from all across the
country…
” she said country like it was something that needed extra attention, “compete to see who can build the best, high tech robot of the future.  Daniel won … three years in the row, even though he’s the youngest competitor to date,” she finished with a haughty tone that had his lips twitching. “This was last year.” She smoothed her fingers along the dark, wood frame. “He’s going to compete again in the fall.”

“That’s amazing.”

“I think so.” Beaming, she stowed the photo away and went back to rummaging. She came back out with a pen and crumpled notepad. She flipped to a fresh page and turned to him. “So, what do you do?”

Dimitri had to consider that carefully before answering. He couldn’t very well tell her,
rob people
, for a living. Although, she worked for Theresa so she probably wouldn’t be overly surprised.

“I know about … the other stuff,” she said quietly when he took too long to answer, just under her breath. “It doesn’t bother me.”

Dimitri bit the inside of his cheek to contain his grin. “What other stuff?”

“
Other
… stuff,” she stressed slowly. “Syndicate business.”

Of course she did. Theresa wouldn’t have sent her with papers for Dimitri to sign regrading Syndicate business if she hadn’t trusted Penny with the information.

“I currently have no business,” he told her evenly. “
Other
or otherwise.”

A fine crease appeared between her brows while she mulled that over carefully. The top of her pen tapped rhythmically on the coils of her notepad. She said nothing when the driver swerved in and out through heavy traffic like an Indy five hundred racer. He had to give her props for that. Most would have soiled themselves at the pace.

“Then, let’s start small,” she decided. “Office space. Once you have a general idea of what you want to do, I’ll look up proper locations and building structures.” She scribbled on her page while she spoke. “We’ll need a name and logo, and business cards. Employees, obviously, which means interviews.”

Dimitri stopped listening. Business had never been his strong suit. He didn’t care for the confinement of a suit and desk. All the other heads had corporations they hid behind, legit businesses that kept suspicious eyes from prying. John Paul invested hugely in pharmaceuticals. Elena had several herbal shops throughout the city catering to the wellness of body and mind—which Dimitri always found highly ironic. Theresa’s family held a large portion of the city’s financial holdings and Marcus’s family wielded a firm grip on games. They operated everything from horses, to the casinos and fighting rings. But Dimitri had no business plans. He didn’t think there was anything for what he did. Vigilantes couldn’t exactly open their own shop and hand out business cards.

“You need a car and driver,” Penny interrupted his thoughts, head still bent over her list
.
“You’re an important man. You can’t be taking cabs all over the city.”

Her efficient prioritization of his life made it clear that he’d made the right choice stealing her from Theresa. He’d known she would be; Theresa had zero tolerance for slacking and even less patience with people who displeased her. The fact that Penny had kept her position for the better part of two years had said a lot about her competence.

He pondered for a moment if he felt bad. Not about getting Penny fired, but for lying to Theresa. They were essentially partners now. Their territories were allies. He should at least feel semi-guilty.

He realized he really didn’t. Freeing Penny from that woman was worth the fight it would start when Theresa found out. Sure, he could have found someone else. There were agencies for that kind of thing, women far more qualified. But for Theresa’s bullshit during the elections, it only seemed fitting he take something equally significant, but not too significant. He didn’t want to start a war, just piss her off a little.

“Where do you live?”

His question interrupted Penny’s lengthy ramble about color scheming and playing to his strengths. He partially wondered if she thought he was an idiot, but pushed it aside.

“Do you mean actual address or territory?”

“Territory.”

“The south, but that won’t interfere with my job.”

“You need to move.” He slanted her a sidelong glance from the corner of his eye. “I can’t protect you if you’re in someone else’s territory. You work for me. You’re a member of the north now.”

She considered that a moment, pen making that irritating tapping sound she seemed very fond of. Finally, she moistened her lips and cleared her throat.

“Yes, I understand that, but I have to respectfully decline.” She shifted a little higher in her seat. “Daniel’s school is there and his friends. My mom lives in our apartment building so there’s someone I can call if I need him watched. I know all my neighbors and the people of my community and…” She wet her lips again, nervously. “Daniel has autism. His clinic and doctor are there. I can’t just leave.”

He wanted to push, but stopped himself. He gave a reluctant nod.

“We’ll find another way,” he decided.

Her shoulders drooped visibly and she offered him a small smile in thanks.

The matter was dropped. She went back to her notes and he watched the insane way their driver kept taking short cuts. At one point, he turned into a one-way, going the wrong way, just to twist the wheel and bounce them into the flow of traffic on the other side. The transition had been so fluid, Dimitri hadn’t even felt the jostle.

Saeed Parvez, read the photo ID above the rearview. Dimitri judged him to be in his early twenties, clean cut, and an incredible driver. They hadn’t shared more than a single word between them, but he’d understood English.

“Where are you from, Saeed?”

Brown eyes lifted to meet his in the mirror. They were parked at a red light or Dimitri may have wet himself.

“Here, born and raised. Eight generations.”

No accent. Perfect English.

“Do you always drive like you’ve robbed a bank?”

A mischievous smirk twisted up one side of his face. “Maybe I have.”

Dimitri immediately liked the kid.

“Get a lot of speeding tickets?”

Saeed shook his head. “Never had one a day in my life.” He knocked on the dashboard. “Knock on wood.”

“That’s plastic,” Penny cut in before Dimitri could. “Fiberglass most likely. Here. Use this.”

While she was busy wedging the corner of Daniel’s frame through the money slot for Saeed to knock on, Dimitri’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and checked the screen. Surprised to see Robby’s name, he put it to his ear.

“Yeah?”

“Dimitri? It’s Robby. Ava’s in the hospital.”

He didn’t listen to the rest.

He cracked the glass with a knuckle sharply, startling Saeed and Penny. He barked the orders and directions to the hospital.

“Get us there in ten minutes and I’ll give you five hundred bucks on top of what’s on the meter right now.”

Saeed popped his neck, rolled his shoulders, and narrowed his eyes on the road. “Hang on. I’ll get you there in five.”

They got there in four. It was absolutely beyond him how the boy did it, but the cab squealed to a stop right in front of the hospital doors with a ferocity that soaked the air with the stink of burnt tires. The windows rattled with the jerking stop and everyone pitched forward.

“Jesus Christ!” Penny shrieked, glowering at Saeed through the glass. “Does your mother know you drive like that?”

Saeed smirked. “Who do you think taught me?”

Penny’s nostrils flared, but she said nothing as she kicked her door open and threw herself out.

Dimitri wedged everything he had in his wallet through the money slot. It was more than five hundred, but the boy had kept his promise.

“Stay here,” he told him.

“Sure thing, boss,” was his reply.

Dimitri climbed out, slammed the door closed behind him and turned to Penny, who was slightly green under the pallor of her complexion.

“Hire him.”

Leaving her to sort it all out, he stalked through the doors, strides long and commanding. The painfully familiar stench greeted him like an old friend. It draped around his shoulder, a heavy weight as he maneuvered the corridors. His duster flapped around his legs, snapping like raven wings. He could feel the air climbing beneath him and the fabric, lifting it off his back.

“Ava Emerson,” he snapped at the woman behind the counter.

“Dimitri!” Robby waved at him from the other side of the desk before the woman could open her mouth.

Dimitri abandoned the spot and hurried to the other man and the beast of a man looming just over his shoulder. He ignored the latter.

“Where is she? What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Robby blurted, white all the way to his lips. “We were having lunch and the next second we were being shot at—”

“Where is she?”

Robby jabbed a thumb in the direction of the door just over his shoulder.

Dimitri stomped forward, heart a wild tangle of dread and determination. He paused in the doorway, mostly to prepare himself before closing the steps to the bed he could see peeking around the corner.

Ava was on the bed, fully dressed, and awake. John Paul stood next to her, arms crossed and a very agitated twist around his mouth. But Dimitri focused on Ava, taking her in from head to toe over and over again, trying to pinpoint the location of her injuries and finding nothing.

“What happened?”

Her head shot up from the clipboard she held. Her green eyes brightened at the sight of him a split second before she grinned.

“Hey!”

Ignoring that, he moved to her other side, mostly to get a better view of her. “Where are you hurt?”

Her smile melted into one of annoyance that could have rivaled John Paul’s. “I’m not!” She shot the other man a severe sidelong glower. “There is nothing wrong with me.”

It made no sense.

“Then … what the hell are you doing here?”

“She needs to be checked,” John Paul retorted hotly. “Even despite this, you’ve had a traumatic two weeks. You need doctors to see you.”

“I’m fine!”

“Are you a doctor?” John Paul argued. “You can’t possibly know what type of things you could have contracted over there or how this stress will toll on your body. Just sit there and let the doctors have a look.”

Dimitri was trying to keep up with the flow of argument, but he still couldn’t understand what the fuck was happening.

“Robby said you were shot,” he said, breaking into the conversation before the two started again.

“I was not,” Ava muttered, the clipboard falling into her lap. “They missed.”