Beautiful Russian Monster (A Vancouver Mafia Romance Book 2)

I watched as Viktor slowly moved upstairs, testing each step before he put his full weight down. And then he disappeared from sight.

I could hear him moving things around and calling out Tonko’s name.

Be brave. Just stand here and be brave.

I heard splashing coming from the main floor. Standing still, I listened hard. I heard the noise again. It was coming from Tonko’s work room.

“Tonko?” my voice echoed around me.

Another sound, this time a very light bump.

“Viktor,” I called out, hearing the fear in my voice.

I could hear his footsteps above me, but he didn’t hear me.

The bumping sound happened again. What if Tonko was struggling under some furniture? What if he couldn’t call out?

I took a few steps into the foyer and called out again. “Hello? Tonko, is that you?”

No response. I could feel my knees shaking. What if I just stood in the doorway of Tonko’s room and peeked in? I would still be within view of the staircase.

Viktor had just told me to be brave. This was my moment.

I tiptoed through the water, across the tile foyer, and peered around the corner into Tonko’s workspace. The organized room I remembered, filled with special teapots and high-tech equipment, was gone. All of Tonko’s furniture was smashed and destroyed, and the floor was immersed in water. An overturned box gently bobbed against a table.

Then I saw Tonko’s slipper and his leg. Without thinking, I rushed forward into the cold water, wading up to my knees through the dank water. I moved around the debris. “Tonko!”

A scream ripped through me as my brain tried to process what I was seeing.

Tonko was draped backwards over the table. Unseeing eyes stared lifelessly into some faraway future. His mouth gaped open, as if he were still trying to speak. He looked puffy and bruised, and his skin was cold gray, his lips and nose stained a dark blue.

I could hear Viktor’s feet pounding down the steps, but I didn’t want him to see his friend like this.

“Blaire,” he shouted.

I rushed to the door, around the corner, and straight into his arms. He spun me behind him and, in the same motion, withdrew his weapon and pointed it in the direction of Tonko’s office.

He spoke in a harsh voice over his shoulder. “Are you alone?”

“Yes.” I put my hand on his broad back and spoke quietly. “I found Tonko. He is… He’s…” I couldn’t bring myself to call him dead. That made it too real.

He holstered his weapon and pushed me against the wall with one hand. “Stay here.”

I leaned against the wall, listening to him splash through the water. I squeezed my eyes shut when I heard him angrily swear. Feeling overwhelmed, I couldn’t be bothered to wipe the tears that leaked down my cheeks. I thought about Tonko, a man I didn’t know but who had showed me kindness by serving me tea and making me laugh. I couldn’t believe he was gone, his life snuffed out in a senseless death. He was a stark warning of how fragile we all were, and it reminded me of the insurmountable danger of this trip. I could feel myself become defeated again. All of this seemed so impossible.

More tears leaked down my face. I quickly wiped them away when I heard the splashing of Viktor’s approach.

He reappeared. He put something in his pack and avoided my gaze. His face was a mask, revealing nothing, but beneath his cold exterior I could feel his emotions rage.

“Come on. Time to move.”

I didn’t budge. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

He turned and looked at me, and I could see intensity flicker in his eyes. “I’m not going to ask you twice.”

Of course he wasn’t okay. What a stupid question. I bit my lip, at a loss for words. I wanted to comfort this fierce man in front of me, but I didn’t know how.

I stepped forward and slipped my hand in his. “Okay.”

He acknowledged my hand with a slight squeeze and then he pulled me tightly behind him. “Don’t let go.”

We walked for a long time, but our progress was slow. I didn’t complain when the sun beat down on us with a cheerful intensity that seemed incongruent with the surrounding disaster. I worked hard to keep up with Viktor as we made our way over trees, debris, and overturned cars. He always went first, finding the safest path, and then he moved back to hold out a steady hand and help me over whatever was in our way. I never wanted to let go of his hand. He felt like a lifeline in a sea of the unimaginable.

Around us, the emotion and energy left me nearly numb. Some people cried openly in the street, while others stoically worked to help those who needed it. There were makeshift carts carrying both the injured and the dead, but we worked to stay out of their way as we walked inland.

We helped where we could, joining groups that were lifting trees off roads to make way for those transporting the injured. Viktor discreetly handed out most of our water and food, reserving only the minimum for us.

We walked until my wet runners gave me blisters. We didn’t speak; we didn’t comment on the horror that was constantly unfolding around us. Unable to process it all, I eventually worked to block out my surroundings and focused all my energy into putting one foot in front of the other.

In some shaded places, they were already creating makeshift morgues, laying bodies side by side, covering the faces of the dead with blankets and towels.

“Don’t look,” Viktor told me each time as he put himself between me and the dead. “Just stare straight ahead.”

Just when I was about to beg Viktor for a break, we came upon a bustling makeshift hospital. Medical personnel rushed around while others handed out food and water in tents. Buses seemed to be leaving, overflowing with people.

“Where are they going?”

“Probably inland.” He stepped in front of me. “You must not speak. Not to anyone. We are a Russian couple. You need to pretend you don’t understand English.”

I nodded.

“Promise me, Blaire. This is important.”

“I won’t speak.”

“Okay.” He looked around the yard. “First, we need a phone, and then we’re going to get a ride out of here.”

We stood in line at the phone tent until we were ushered to a table made private with two cardboard partitions. On the table lay a single cell phone. The man in charge told Viktor in English, “You can call anywhere in the world, free of charge, but you only have five minutes.”

“Thanks.”

When he stepped away, Viktor dialed a number from memory.

I leaned in, desperate to hear what Drake had to say. Viktor obliged and held the phone away from his ear so I could hear.

“Drake speaking.”

Viktor spoke in a low, harsh voice. “This isn’t a secure line. We have ninety seconds.”

“Where are you?”

“We’re not going to make the ship’s docking. How long is it in port?”

“You lucky bastard.” He let out a low laugh. “There was some big storm that hit the coast of the South China sea, and the ship was delayed. It is now scheduled to dock in exactly thirty-six hours.”

I felt Viktor let out a long, controlled breath. “Understood. We need more money.”

“That’s not an option.”

“I want proof of life.”

“I thought you’d say that. But unfortunately, you’re just going to have to take my word for it. I’m not at your friend’s location.”

“The grandfather?”

“Our surveillance of nine hours ago confirmed he was still alive.”

Relief flooded me. I listened as Viktor negotiated in a flat voice. “We need more money.”

“Sorry.” Drake didn’t seem that sorry. “I was told you were resourceful.”

And then the line went dead.

Without looking at me, Viktor hung up and immediately dialed another number. A male voice answered. I recognized it as the man in Ho Chi Minh City. “Akira speaking. Who’s this?”

“It’s Pushka.”

“I can’t help you if you can’t find Tonko. I gave you an address.”

“We found him, but he’s dead. He didn’t survive the storm.”

“Oh shit. Is that why you’re calling?”

“Tonko left a note and told me to ask about Hiroto. He said he could finish a job?”

Akira sighed. “You’re a pain in my ass.”

“Can you help?”

“He’s not cheap. Twenty thousand.”

“We’ll be there in twenty-four hours.”

“He only takes American cash.”

Viktor’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t speak as he hung up.

Without looking at me, he said, “Let’s go find something to eat. I need to think.”

One of the tents had free water and some food, along with blankets. Around us, people either slept or sat quietly eating. It was a relief to get out of the sun.

Viktor and I ate in silence. He was acting surprisingly cagey about our next moves, which concerned me. When he made eye contact, I spoke.

“What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing.”

“Is it because you didn’t get proof of life from your friends?”

“No.”

“I don’t know what’s going on. Why do we have to go see Tonko’s friend Akira?”

He reached into his pack and tossed me a sealed plastic bag. “Tonko finished your papers. He didn’t finish mine. He left me a half-finished passport along with a note to call his friend Hiroto in Ho Chi Minh City.”

“Why?”

“He might be able to finish my passport.”

I pulled out my new fake passport. It looked real, along with stamps from different countries and a pink reentry visa for Vietnam stapled onto one of the pages.

It sounded like we had plans to meet up with him and then we could be on our way. “What’s the problem?”

“We don’t have enough money.”

I lifted my head and stared at him in disbelief. I had never heard those words in my life. “Well, don’t be ridiculous. I have lots of money.”

He shook his head. “We can’t do wire transfers. We need cash delivered to us.”

“I can make that happen.”

“We can’t involve anyone else, and no one is going to get a Vietnam visa at this short notice.”

I lifted my passport. “I have reentry into this country for thirty days.”

“What’s your point?”

“My friend Pierre can meet me discreetly in Hong Kong and bring me the cash. There is a direct flight from Vancouver to Hong Kong daily.”

“No.” He stood up. “Come on. Let’s go.”

I scrambled after him. “What are you doing?”

“We’ll find the money another way.” He refused to look at me as he walked into the heat of the sun.

I grabbed his arm and did my best to stop him. Instead, it felt like I was trying to hold on to a moving tank.

He stopped and looked down at me with exasperation.

I lifted both my hands off him. “Can you please just listen to me?”

“I’m not letting you go meet some guy in another country by yourself, Blaire. End of subject.”

“Tell me why.”

He looked incredulous. “You’ve been missing for almost a week in Canada after being stolen. And you want to phone this person up and ask him to fly a large sum of money in cash to another country? Whoever he is, he’d be an idiot not to alert the authorities. Even if he doesn’t, the authorities will be watching him and everyone else in your life.”

“I can trust him,” I insisted.

He studied me with an unreadable expression. “Who is this guy?”

“Pierre. We used to date.”

He grabbed onto my wrist with strength. “This isn’t a game, Blaire. If this guy can’t be trusted, we’re all dead—you and me, your grandfather, my friends. None of us will survive.”

I yanked my wrist out of his grasp. “Are you done?”

He started to walk away from me.

My voice cracked as I spoke. “When I was in university, I pledged for a sorority. I didn’t want to, but my grandmother thought it would be a great idea. From the second I got there, I knew I didn’t fit in.”

Viktor turned around. His face was a mixture of both pity and curiosity.

“I didn’t understand it at the time, but they couldn’t say no to me. I came from a lot of money, so the sorority couldn’t turn me down. They had to admit me into their inner circle of friends and pretend to like me.”

“What happened?”

“For a full year, they pushed me past the worst of my limits. I was friendless, alone and painfully shy—and that made me an easy target. At the end of my first year, in a desperate move for self-preservation, I decided to transfer to a different school. On one of my last nights, there was an incident. I accidentally burned down their sorority house.”

Viktor stared at me with an inscrutable expression. He was probably wondering where the hell I was going with this story. “You set your sorority on fire?”

“No, I burned my sorority down to a pile of ash. But I assure you, it was an accident and no one was hurt. No one knew I was responsible—with the exception of one person.”

Understanding dawned and his expression soured. “Pierre.”

“He was a popular frat boy—and I had never talked to him before that night. I expected him to rat me out, or hold it over me, but he did neither. Instead, he asked that I stay at that school and not get a transfer.”

“He had the hots for you.”

“That wasn’t his motivation. In fact, we didn’t date for four more years. He became one of my most trusted friends. Because of him, I survived university.”

“He played the long game.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.”

“Our romance was short-lived, and it ended amicably. We remained close friends.”

“I doubt that.”

“I flew his girlfriend to fashion week in Paris this year because she’s my favorite person to dress.”

“Is there a point here I’m missing?”

“I trust Pierre—with my life and with my grandfather’s life. He’s guarded my worst secrets, and he’s been a trusted friend on all accounts.”

Viktor stood silent, like a tower, thinking about his verdict. “Who ended the relationship?”

“What does that have to do with anything? We both agreed it was for the best.”

“It matters.”

I flushed hard. “He ended it—he said that I wasn’t into him.”

“Were you?”

Kissing Pierre hadn’t done anything for me. I had always been desperate to hide that fact.

“I don’t know,” I lied.

“You weren’t into him.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

He pinned me with a look. “He wouldn’t have ended it if he wasn’t sure.”

He walked a few steps away from me and stood with his back to me. He took off his hat and pushed both fingers through his hair. I could see him struggling with his decision.

“I have his number.” I moved in front of him so I could face him. “He made me memorize it. In case I lost my phone.”

“This is a very bad plan.”

“It’s not only a great plan, it’s the only one we’ve got.”

“What if he calls the authorities?”

“He won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

I planted a hand on one hip. “You’re telling me you don’t have a single person that you’d trust with your life?”

That jarred him. “Of course I do.”

“Why is it so hard to believe that I would have a person in my life that I trust?”

He looked like he was in physical pain. “Fine. Let’s set it up.”

Back at the phone tent, Viktor and I hunched over the phone.

He spoke to me as the phone rang. “You have ninety seconds.”

A familiar voice answered. “Pierre speaking.”

“Are you alone?”

“Blaire?”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

“I need your help, and we only have eighty-five seconds.”

He spoke without hesitation. “I’ll help.”

“I need you to bring twenty thousand American dollars in cash to Hong Kong on the next flight you can find.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m saving my grandfather. I’m safe, but I need help. Without the authorities being involved.”

“Blaire, I need more than that.”

“Can you help me?”

A moment’s pause. “Cathay Pacific has the only direct flight. It leaves here around 2 p.m., and I can be there by 7 p.m. tomorrow night your time.”

“Can you bring the money? It has to be cash.”

“Of course. Are you alone?”

I stole a glance at Viktor, who was studying the table without moving a muscle. “I have a friend helping me, but if the authorities figure out I’m here, my grandfather will die.”

“The police, the government—they’re all tearing up the place looking for you. They’ve interviewed me twice.”

“Pierre, they can’t know I called you. My life and my grandfather’s life now depend on your discretion. They can’t follow you to Hong Kong. They must not know you’re meeting me.”

He stayed silent for a moment. “You can count on me. I won’t let them near you.”

“There is a restaurant called Lime Garden in Terminal A of the Hong Kong airport. I’ll be waiting there for you alone.”

“I’ll be there.”

I hung up.

Viktor, with his clenched jaw and tight mouth, looked like he wanted to hit something. Something hot flashed in his dark eyes.

I put my hand on his forearm. “We can trust him.”

“I can’t.”

“Please trust me. I can do this for us.”

“I fucking hate this plan.”

“Do you have a better plan?”

He took his time answering. “No.”

“I need to get a flight to Hong Kong and arrive before 7 p.m. tomorrow night.”

He looked at the surrounding chaos. “That I can arrange.”

Almost a day later, we stood outside Tan Son Nhat International Airport in Ho Chi Minh City. Waves of emotion were rolling off Viktor like hot, angry steam. He had been sour since we had left the hospital, barely speaking to me. I wanted to push him and find out what was going on in his mind, but the circumstances were wrong for that kind of talk. We had dealt with nonstop chaos and trauma, and now we were about to part ways.

“Don’t be mad,” I told him.

He avoided my gaze. “I’m not.”

“You’re something.”

He met my gaze, but only for a second. “You should head in there.”

I reached out and grabbed his thick wrist. “Viktor, I’m coming back.”

He let out a controlled breath. “I’ll understand if you don’t.”

I stared at him in disbelief, stunned that he seemed to think I was capable of throwing in the towel. “I told you, I’ll be back in ten hours. Try to get some sleep.”

He stared over my head.

I gave him a little shove. “You’d better be here when I get back, or I’ll be pissed.”

His gaze clashed with mine. “I’ll be here.”

“As will I.”

He gave me another stiff, short nod. He didn’t believe a word I was saying.

“See you soon,” I said before awkwardly turning around and walking toward the airport doors. When I turned around, he was still standing near the taxi depot, watching me.

I gave him a quick wave. His only response was to turn around and disappear behind some buses.

Four hours later, I walked through the Hong Kong international airport toward the Lime Garden restaurant. I gave a squeak when someone grabbed me and yanked me into a clothing store.

It was Pierre.

“What are you doing?” I whispered to him.

He lowered his voice as he dragged me out of the opposite exit. “We need to talk.”