Beautiful Russian Monster (A Vancouver Mafia Romance Book 2)

Beautiful Russian Monster: Chapter 4



I sat in the truck and watched my captor and another man talk. I strained my eyes, not quite able to see the other man’s features beneath the shadows. I had no idea what was happening or why I was here, but I was so scared my entire body shook.

My monster stepped closer to the other man. I gasped as a group of men with huge guns emerged from various dark corners, all pointing their weapons at him. I held my breath, but no shots were fired. In a few moments, he would give me to the shadowy man who had ordered my kidnapping. As terrifying as my monster was, I knew in my gut that my life would get a lot worse when that happened.

This was bad.

This was really bad.

I needed to escape. I shifted the handcuffs along the door of the truck. I pulled on the cuffs until my wrists ached, but I was attached securely and there was no way I was getting free unless I had a key.

As my captor stalked back toward the truck, he threw something across the parking lot. I realized it was a cell phone that broke into pieces. Now, in exchange for his friends, he would hand me over. From behind him, even more men with big guns emerged from the shadows, but they only stood and watched.

My monster looked pissed. I tried to think of something, anything, to appeal to his humanity. If that didn’t work, I could perhaps bribe him to call the police after his friends were safe and tell them who took me.

Instead of coming to the passenger side, he walked to the driver’s side, climbed in beside me and roared the engine to life. What was he doing? Was he going to drive me across the parking lot toward the men with guns?

“I have money, a lot of money. Maybe after your friends get free, you can….”

My voice trailed off when he grabbed the back of my headrest, twisting to look back as he gunned the truck in reverse. Holy shit, was he saving me? I braced myself as we charged backwards for what seemed like an eternity. I waited for a hail of bullets, but the men in the parking lot only stood there and watched.

I didn’t understand what was happening.

He cranked the wheel hard, and a noise choked out of me as the truck spun around on the gravel before coming to a complete stop.

He gave me a long, hard look before he threw the truck into a different gear and blasted us forward. The engine bellowed hard as we flew down the secondary road. Without touching the brakes, he merged onto the dark highway.

Were we running away? Were the men going to come after us? My eyes were glued to the side mirror, but no headlights chased us. I looked forward and gasped when I saw how fast he was driving and how close he was to the cement barricade—the only thing between the dark highway and a mountain cliff. If we weren’t being chased, why was he driving like this?

My heart pounded. I licked my dry lips with an equally dry tongue before turning toward the big stranger who controlled my destiny. “What’s happening?”

He looked in his side mirror as he changed lanes. His voice was devoid of emotion. “New plans.”

“What does that mean?”

“First rule. No more questions.”

“Why not?”

He gave me a cold look. “Three seconds, and you already broke the first rule.”

I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from his face. All I had were questions. He looked angry, but was that anger directed at me? Was that the face of someone who was planning on killing me? Was his eye contact a good sign or a bad sign? Maybe he was going to ask my grandmother for a ransom? I didn’t know how not to ask my questions. “What are you going to do with me?”

“Second rule. You do what I tell you.”

That sounded ominous. “What are you going to tell me to do?”

He let out an impatient breath. “You’re breaking rule number one.”

“Why is everything a secret?”

“Just be quiet. I need to think.”

I chewed on my bottom lip for five more hair-bending curves before the words exploded out of me. “When you finish thinking, please tell me. I have more questions.”

He grunted something in Russian under his breath.

I couldn’t stand it. “Are you going to kill me?”

He gave me another hard look. “Why would you say that?”

I could feel my stress turn into something worse: tears. I blinked them back, mortified to show such weakness. “Is that a trick question?”

“I don’t do that anymore.”

“Do what?” He didn’t kill anymore? Was I really having a conversation with a killer? It felt like my heart was pounding out of my throat.

My eyes were glued to him, but he ignored me. We drove in complete silence for three more curves before I said in a small voice, “So, to clarify, you’re not going to kill me?”

He swore. Around the next corner was a rest area. He barely touched the brakes as he flew into the empty rest stop lane before slamming the vehicle to a stop.

Oh god, he was going to kill me here. I was going to die at a dark, lonely rest stop.

He interrupted my internal panic with a surprising question. “If I give you two minutes to ask questions, will you then be quiet?”

I could barely speak. “Yes.”

He stared at me intently. “You promise?”

I vigorously nodded.

“Okay,” he motioned impatiently. “Ask your questions.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Singapore.”

“What?” I gasped. “Why?”

“Drake needs us to steal something off one of your grandfather’s ships.”

I homed in on one word. “We are stealing something—as in you and me?”

His jaw tightened in the dim light of the dashboard lights. “He still has my friends.”

“Are you insane? I’m not going to Asia to help you save your friends.”

“Drake knows who has your grandfather.”

I sucked air into my lungs, almost unable to speak. “He’s alive?”

“That’s what he told me.”

This was the first lead I’d had about my grandfather. Suddenly, hot rage filled me as I realized my missed opportunity. “Why didn’t you let me talk to him? We have to return to Drake.”

“We’re not going back. He won’t tell you anything until we retrieve what he wants.”

“Is my grandfather okay?”

“He’s alive—for now.”

“For now?” My voice went up a notch. “We need to call the police. We need them to go arrest Drake and force him to talk.”

He sounded frustrated. “What we need to do is retrieve what Drake wants, and then everyone can be saved.”

That stopped me cold. “How are you getting us to Singapore? How do we know it won’t be too late?”

He pointed at his head in frustration. “I need to think of a plan, but I can’t think when you tweet at me like a little bird with all your questions.”

“I need to talk to Drake.”

He turned forward and put the truck into gear. “Not going to happen.”

I fought at the handcuffs on the door with futility. “You bastard! Turn around.”

He pulled back onto the highway, taking me further away from the only man who seemed to know where my grandfather was.

My voice was filled with angry tears. “I insist you take me back to Drake.”

He gave me a hard look. “I insist you give me some silence.”

I couldn’t handle the thought that he was driving me away from the one person who knew how to save my grandfather. Frustration that bordered on rage coursed through me. “Or what? What are you going to do if I’m not quiet?”

“You don’t want to know.”

At that moment I didn’t care about my safety. “I need to save my grandfather.”

“What do you think we’re trying to do here?” Frustration sounded in his voice.

“We should be calling the police or talking to the military or something!” I was so overcome with emotion I was practically yelling.

“Drake is the military.”

His words stopped me cold. “You’re lying.”

He shrugged, uncaring if I believed him or not. “His exact words were, ‘I’m somewhere between federal defense and the military.’ He also said they were going to sacrifice your grandfather. All they care about is whatever is on that ship.”

My blood ran cold. “What do you mean, sacrifice?”

He spoke without emotion. “They don’t want to make the situation worse, so they have no plans to save him.”

The sound that came out of me was somewhere between wild animal and rage. “You’re lying.”

He gave me a cold look. “I’m not a liar. I don’t lie.”

“You don’t care about my grandfather, so you’re making decisions that don’t make him a priority. Let me talk to Drake. He can release your friends and you can go back to your safe little life.”

“Not going to happen.”

I made another frustrated noise, but it was apparent that he wasn’t going to stop the truck. And as long as I was handcuffed to the truck, I was powerless to stop him.

“If something happens to my grandfather and he’s not returned safe, I am going to personally hold you accountable,” I spat at him.

He gave me another dark, unreadable look before he focused on the road.

My silence was a protest vote as he drove us over the Lions Gate Bridge and through downtown Vancouver. I kept my mouth shut and my questions to myself, because the man beside me was a horrible person who refused to listen to reason. He also had a gun and made veiled threats. Why on earth was he the only link I had to my grandfather?

Over the two days since my grandfather had gone missing, I had learned one uncomfortable truth. There were situations in this world where money didn’t matter. My grandfather was an important man. When he went missing, a lot of powerful people had stepped forward, offering use of their resources and connections to try to find a lead. But despite their influence in this world, no one seemed to know where to start looking for him. It was like he had completely vanished. And tonight was the first time I had heard anyone say, with confidence, that he was alive. Drake, whoever he was, had given us a task to complete. If I was successful, I could save my grandfather.

I looked over at the man beside me. My new reluctant partner didn’t want to be here any more than I did, but he did seem to possess a useful set of skills. And his motivation to help his friends matched mine to save my grandfather. His behavior tonight had been beyond the pale, and he seemed prone to both violence and anger, but I didn’t get the sense that he was a sick pervert. He was just some hard-ass, humorless military dude who was trying to save his friends. Realistically, if he were some psychopath, would he have friends? That had to count for something, right?

I chewed on my bottom lip and tried to think my way through this situation. I needed to have more input into our situation. Right now, he was making all the decisions, and it was extremely frustrating. As distasteful as it was, I needed to get him on my side.

He pulled the truck beside a dingy four-door sedan that was the only car in a dimly lit, deserted parking lot. The abandoned place was nothing more than a pad of cracked and broken asphalt. I could see no lights or buildings nearby.

I spoke. “You need my help.”

He turned off the engine and gave me a hard look. “What’s your point?”

“I was thinking that since this is a partnership, we should work together.”

“No.” He got out and slammed the door.

I took a deep breath. I was one of the top buyers for Au Revoir, an exclusive high-end department store in Vancouver. I could be extremely persuasive when I wanted to be. I took a deep breath.

Treat him like a difficult client. Charm him. Make him like you.

He came around to my side, opened the door, and took the handcuffs off my wrists. He gave me a cold look. “You’re still my hostage, so don’t waste my time by trying to run.”

I pasted on a smile that was so fake I thought my face would crack. “I’m not going to run. Do you think I’m crazy? Besides, my legs barely work after our hike.”

He wasn’t buying my act. He gave me another hard look before moving away from me. I hopped out onto aching legs and hobbled to the back of the truck to watch him transfer a large duffel bag to the back seat of the car.

I tried to be a bit more authentic. “I don’t like the handcuffs.”

“If you fight me, you’re in for a rough time.”

I spoke with truth. “I don’t want a rough time or a fight.”

“Then be good.”

Keep being friendly. Keep it light.

“Whose car is that?” I watched as he took a rag and carefully started to wipe all the outer edges of the truck.

“It’s a ghost car. It belongs to no one.”

“Why are we changing cars?”

“To lose the men that are following us.”

I looked around, but I saw no one.

“Electronically,” he added.

“You think there’s a tracking device on the truck?” He didn’t answer, so I asked another question. “How do you know that?”

“Because that’s what I’d do.”

He started wiping down the inside of the truck cabin.

I never thought he would tell me, but I still asked. “Do you have a plan?”

“Yup.”

I felt like I was walking on eggshells. “Did you want to share your plan?”

He looked at me like I was stupid and he needed to state the obvious. “We’re going to Asia to get Drake what he wants.”

“Because he has your friends.”

“Because he has my friends.”

“What if I’m not helpful?”

He carefully shut the door of the truck and wiped the outer door handle. “He said you’re the only one who knows where your grandfather’s hiding places are.”

I didn’t have a clue, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. “Are we in danger?”

He thought about his answer. “Our odds are maybe thirty-seventy.”

This guy talked with such clipped, succinct facts I could barely follow his logic. I asked carefully. “Thirty-percent chance of what?”

“Of surviving.”

My knees wanted to buckle, but I managed to stay upright. There’s a seventy-percent chance I might die?

He motioned me toward the sedan. “Relax. Those are good odds.”

I slowly walked over, but I couldn’t seem to will myself into the car. I stared up at his impossible-to-read face. He didn’t seem to be joking. “Maybe we should talk about this.”

He opened the door and put a big hand on my shoulder. Somehow, without using force, my body responded to his nonverbal command and I obediently sank into the seat.

He looked down at me. “Put on your seat belt.”

I pulled the strap over my chest. I hated my silence, but before I could find my voice, he shut the door in my face.

My captor was dangerous, but he was also motivated to keep me alive to help him save his friends. The bigger question was what would happen to me after I outlived my usefulness. Would I be at risk? Would he still care if I wore my seat belt? Or would he consider me excess baggage in the plot to save his friends?

He got in beside me.

“What’s your plan once we get what Drake needs?”

His tone was mocking. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll call the police.”

That stung, but I respected how sharp his sarcasm could cut. “Will you bring me home?”

“I just told you I would.” He started the car, and musty air blew out of the vents directly into my face, covering me in dust.

“Technically, you didn’t say that.”

He made an impatient noise. “Yes. You can assume that if I manage to keep us alive I’ll get you home.”

Relief made my voice quake. “Thank you.”

He hit the brakes and looked at me. “I kidnapped you. Remember that. You don’t get to thank me for this.”

Keep it friendly. Make him like you. “Right now, you’re the guy who is going to help me find my grandfather. Why wouldn’t I thank you?”

“Enough talk.”

He gunned the car backwards out of the deserted parking lot. I stared forward, watching as his lonely truck got smaller.

“Are you leaving your truck here?”

He backed the car onto the road, and then he lifted his hand and clicked a remote.

The light of the explosion hit us first, nearly blinding me, before a deafening sound tore through the air. My entire body came off the seat in fright. At the same time, the truck bounced in the air from the force of the explosion. The entire vehicle seemed to fly apart at the seams before being engulfed in a roaring fire.

“Holy shit.” My hands covered my mouth. “You just blew up your truck.”

“Wasn’t my truck.”

He gunned the car forward, and then we were roaring down the dark road.

“How do you even know how to do that?” I gasped, looking over my shoulder at the massive flames.

“What’s it going to cost me to buy your silence?”

I didn’t understand his question at first. “What?”

“I need to think. How many answers will buy your silence?”

I gambled high and suggested, “Five.”

“You get two.”

Two questions answered was better than none. “How are we getting to Asia? I don’t have my passport.”

“I’m buying our illegal passage and entry via a cargo company.”

I thought hard about my next question. “What’s your name?”

“Does it matter?”

“I don’t know how to address you.”

“Call me whatever you want.”

“You said I could have two answers.”

He let out a long-suffering breath. “Viktor.”

“Viktor, do you think—”

He silenced me with one look, reminding me that he was a big, dangerous man with a gun. When he looked so hard and menacing, why did I continue to push at his boundaries?

I wrapped my arms around my body. The car wasn’t offering much heat, and I was only wearing his T-shirt and sweats. I felt exhausted, chilled, and filthy.

I jerked awake. “What happened?”

We were still driving, but I had no idea where we were.

“What happened was you gave me about three minutes of silence.”

“That’s how long I slept?”

“Yes,” he grumbled. “Go back to sleep.”

I shifted in the seat. “I’m too cold.”

I froze when he reached into the back seat, but a moment later, he tossed the blanket onto my lap. “Night-night.”

I woke up, disoriented. It took a moment to remember that I had been driving with Viktor in a car. Now that car was parked in the shadows beside a long building. I could see a tall light pole in the distance that illuminated a long chain-link fence and smooth black asphalt.

I glanced into the back seat, but his bag was gone.

I couldn’t believe he had left me. I should have been grateful that he was sparing me those truly bad odds of staying alive, but I didn’t feel spared. I felt nothing but panic. How would I save my grandfather if he left me here?

Listening, I realized I was at the airport, probably the cargo airport. I needed to get out of the car and go looking for help. Even if he was coming back for me, this was my chance to escape. I just needed to find someone to call the police for me.

I looked around, wondering which direction to take. I grappled in the dark for the door handle, but when my fingers found it, they trembled with indecision.

I didn’t know what Drake looked like. I only knew his first name. I only knew my captor’s first name. The information wouldn’t help the police at all.

What if Viktor can help you find your grandfather?

It was ridiculous to contemplate sticking with my captor and letting him take me to Asia based on the fact that someone else said they knew where my grandfather was.

Get out of the car!

What if I managed to survive, but my grandfather was sacrificed? Would I ever be able to live with myself?

My indecision turned to a sick relief when Viktor came out of the building. The decision had been made for me. Now I was committed to trying to save my grandfather. I ignored the small voice inside me that told me I could have gotten away.

He walked toward the car, and his long strides chewed up the distance between us. He’d washed his face, and it made him look less warrior and more man. His nose seemed particularly straight, but the most interesting thing about him was his hair. Without his hat, his shaggy dark hair almost touched his collar. For some reason, I had expected him to have a military buzz cut.

He opened the passenger door. “Time to go.”

I stared at his face, trying to get a read on him, but he showed me nothing.

“You left me,” I accused.

He reached in and yanked the blanket off me. “Listen hard.”

“What?”

“The men here get upset when someone fucks around.”

“What does that mean?”

He sounded exasperated that I wasn’t grasping what to do next. “You don’t leave my side, and you keep your eyes on the ground. You don’t look at anyone or see anything. You don’t speak, ask questions or tell anyone anything. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“They don’t care if you’re my hostage. Don’t appeal to anyone for help—no one gives a shit. And if you try and plead for help, it will just piss everyone off.”

God, what kind of world does he live in? “I have a question.”

“Go.”

“What happens if they get upset?”

He motioned for me to stand up. “They shoot first and ask questions later.”

I definitely wasn’t going to fuck around.

He reached in and stuffed the blanket in my arms. “You’re going to need this.”

I watched as he wiped out my side of the car before he motioned me to move. When we walked into the large cargo bay, it took all my effort to quell my curiosity and keep my gaze on the cement floor.

He wrapped a big hand around my arm and steered me across the large bay before stopping in front of a door.

When he let go of my arm, I whispered. “What?”

He pulled the blanket out of my hands. “It’s a long flight. You have three minutes to clean up.”

I lifted my head and realized he had led me over to a washroom. Without raising my eyes, I opened the door and shut it behind me. The single room was small and functional. I rushed to use the facilities before I staggered to the sink and mirror. I stared at my reflection in shock. My face was covered in mud, and my hair was a tangled web of twigs and leaves. My hands were a bloody mess.

I gingerly washed my aching hands before bending to splash water on my face until it ran clean. Was I really going to get on a plane with this man? Did I trust him to help me find out where my grandfather was? I stared at my solemn reflection as I dried my face off with a crunchy paper towel. Was this madness?

The door yanked open. His presence shrank the bathroom. “Time’s up.”

I forced myself to keep my eyes trained down as he walked me across the tarmac. I heard men talking and the sound of equipment, but no one acknowledged our presence. He led me to a steel ramp, and I realized we were entering the back end of a massive cargo plane. He moved us past multiple high metal containers. At the front of the cargo area, along the side of the plane walls, there was a row of uncomfortable-looking drop seats with massive shoulder-strap seat belts.

“Sit,” he commanded.

I gingerly sat down and tried to sort out the seat belt, but I couldn’t seem to make sense of the tangled straps.

He knelt in front of me and knocked my hands out of the way so he could securely strap me in. He put the handcuffs on my wrists, attached me to the seat, and then placed the neatly folded blanket on top of my hands.

“I’m not going to run away.” I whispered my complaint.

He lifted his eyes to me. “This is so no one can take you.”

Wow. My lips parted, but no words came out.

“I need to go take care of some stuff.”

What if someone takes me? “You’re leaving me here?”

“I’ll be back.”

“Maybe I should come with you.”

He stood up. “Don’t talk to anyone, don’t look at anyone.”

It confused me that the man who had taken control of my life against my will was now someone I was reluctant to let out of my sight. “How long will you be gone?”

He lifted his finger to his lips and motioned for me to be quiet.

Clutching the blanket, I lowered my chin to my chest. I felt curiously bereft when his big army boots disappeared out of sight.

I listened hard. I could hear male voices laughing outside of the plane, but I couldn’t make out their words. I grew nervous when I heard the clatter of footsteps on metal coming toward me. As they got louder, I yanked on the handcuffs that tied me to the chair. I don’t know why I bothered. My only other defense was to play possum. I shrank further into my seat and feigned sleep.

The footsteps grew even more pronounced before coming to a complete stop in front of me. From between the cracks of my closed lids, I could make out a pair of unfamiliar military-looking boots.

“Well, hello. Where did you come from?” the voice asked me.

I tried desperately to fake sleep, but my entire body shook in fear. Where was my Russian monster? Why had he left me here, defenseless and chained to my seat?

The voice came closer. “I know you’re not asleep. Don’t be frightened.”

A sound escaped me when I felt his fingertips trace down my cheek.

Without my permission, my eyes opened, and the man’s face came into view. He was in his thirties, and he had a crew cut and a wide smile. “Hi there. What’s your name?”

A dark shadow appeared behind him and then the sound of a gun cocking echoed around us. My eyes widened as the stranger slowly put his hands above his head. “Take it easy.”

Viktor stood behind him and kept the gun trained on the back of his skull. “Don’t speak to her.”

“I was just being friendly.”

“This is me being friendly. Move.”

The guy bolted around the metal shipping container and disappeared. I swallowed as my monster’s cold gaze dropped on me.

“I thought I told you to stay out of trouble.”


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