Chapter 49

Claudia gaped at the man that opened the door of Vladimir Sitnikov's mansion. He was probably even bigger than Tyson, which was saying something considering Tyson was one of the largest men to inhabit her world. This guy was probably close to seven feet, dwarfing her own not insubstantial frame. His hair was cut close to his skull, which highlighted the stark tattoos that wound up his neck into his hairline. He wore a dress shirt with a leather holster over top. Tucked under both of his arms were lethal looking guns. His bearded jaw looked perpetually tensed in steely determination. Her eyes remained glued on his massive hands, watching for any twitch that might indicate he was reaching for a weapon. Dude looked like he should be carrying an axe.
She wondered if his name was Tiny.
"Are you the butler?" she asked weakly, eyeing him skeptically. She was pretty certain the Sitnikov mansion would be on everyone's no-solicitation list if this dude was answering the door regularly. She was intensely glad she wasn't a Jehovah's Witness at that moment.
"Claudia?" He asked in a heavily accented voice. Her name sounded like Clow-dee-yah coming out of his mouth.
She nodded, but briefly considered saying no and running away. She could probably scale the massive privacy gate that had swung open to let her in if she was properly motivated , like being shot at by a Russian mobster for trespassing. She wondered how Anya was brave enough to live here with this human pit bull around.
"Boss will see you."
He moved back to let her in. Knowing her options were slim to none Claudia took a breath and entered into the darkened interior of the house that belonged to the most feared man in the city. Even in her relatively small and sheltered circle at the coffee shop she worked at, she heard his name mentioned in whispers. Usually in connection to some illicit business or mob activity. She hadn't realized until several days ago that her friend was his sister. But she trusted Anya. With her life, apparently.
The mountain of a man strode down a hall in front of her. Claudia would have enjoyed looking around her at the beautiful furnishings of the mansion, but his legs ate up the hall, leaving her to nearly run to keep up. He stopped abruptly next an ornate, carved wooden door. He banged on it twice with a fist before shoving it open.
Claudia hesitated. He reached a hand out for her and ushered her impatiently into the room with a massive paw against her back. She gasped as she was propelled forward into a gorgeous masculine office. The door slammed shut at her back, trapping her in with one of the scariest men she would ever meet , and that includes Franco Delgado.
Vladimir Sitnikov stood behind his desk. She eyed him as covertly as she could, feeling completely overwhelmed in the mansion and in his presence. She silently questioned his relation to the spunky, smart-mouthed Anya. His sister was lovely and lithe, like a tiny dancer figurine. While Vladimir was much taller, leanly muscled and surrounded with a menacing intensity that stole her breathe and had her questioning her sanity in deliberately seeking him out.
Claudia watched him warily, ready to fly at the first hint of Russian mob-ittude. Not that she had a hope in hell of getting past the human-shaped guard dog that stalked the premises. Vladimir stopped in front of her, looking down into her face intently. He was close enough that she could see grey in his dark hair and lines of strain fanning out from his eyes and lips. He looked implacable, as though his iron hold on a huge empire was unshakable. It took its toll though, and made him seem somehow lonely. Which made him slightly more human in her eyes.
He brought a hand up to her face. His fingers were long and rough. The middle one had an ornate ring on it that she suspected was Russian. The finger was crooked as though it had been badly broken once. She flinched, but forced herself to hold still when he pushed the hood back off her head. Without asking permission, he took a hand full of her hair and pulled it out from the hoodie, running his fingers down the long, wavy length. It flowed like a silk banner over her generous breasts down to her waist.
"Beautiful," he murmured, dropping the lock of hair and stepping away from her. "I see how you have managed to capture the kingpin's attention. You would be a rare prize for the man."
Claudia frowned. She was getting sick of men thinking they could touch her without permission. She tucked the silken strand of hair behind her ear and stared up at Vladimir. He was studying her intently. She didn't like the way he spoke of Tyson, like a business acquaintance or something. Finally she found her voice and said, "Anya said you could help me, Mr. Sitnikov."
Her words seemed to snap his focus away from his musings. "Please, call me Vladimir my dear. I apologize for my poor manners. It is just that I have long wondered if anything could crack the money machine that is Tyson King. It's interesting to me that a young woman like yourself is the one to finally break into his exclusive tower."
Claudia snorted. "I don't remember it happening quite that way."
He stared at her with chilling intensity. She really got the feeling that he was weighing how valuable she could be if used against the billionaire tycoon. She shivered at the thought of these two men clashing and really, really hoped that, for her sake, Anya hadn't sent her into the lion's den to be consumed. She knew there would be no way off his property without his express permission. Despite its outward charming exterior, she suspected she was currently standing in the middle of a modern day fortress.
Crossing her arms in front of her chest she glared at him. "Anya would be extremely pissed if anything happened to me because of you."
He laughed, the sound deep and slightly unused. As though very little amused him enough to warrant laughter. She felt privileged. And also a lot like a little mouse trying to convince a lion not to eat her.
"Yes, she would be annoyed," he replied still eyeing her. "I can see why she has befriended you, Miss Cantore. You both possess a fighting spirit. This is something I can admire in a woman. Even if the fight is useless."
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked defiantly.
Vladimir went around behind his desk and sat in the big, dark chair. It looked like an extension of his body, comfortable, like a place from which he spent a lot of time running his vast empire. "What I mean, Claudia Cantore, is that you should go back to Tyson King and beg his forgiveness. Then ask him prettily to take care of this messy business you have found yourself in."
Claudia's temper soared. She assumed Anya must have told her brother a few details. And no doubt he had enough contacts to fill in the rest if he chose to be informed on her background. Given her involvement with his beloved sister, Claudia had to assume he would have done some checking up on her before she arrived on his doorstep.
"I don't need any man to take care of me!" she snapped. "The last time I let a guy treat me like a pretty little doll he beat me up and tried to prostitute me out to his buddies. If you aren't going to help me get out of this city, then you can get out of my way. Let me the hell out of this place and I'll do it on my own. I've run before without help, I can do it again."
Vladimir's eyebrows lowered and his dark eyes glowed with an unholy light that had Claudia clutching herself and stepping back. What had she been thinking, mouthing off to such a lethal man? A long, jagged scar that bisected his jaw twitched in barely suppressed fury. Well this is it Claudia, she thought with a sigh, you're about to pay the piper for continually stumbling into the path of terrifying mobster guys.
"I didn't know this," he said quietly and almost soothingly? He continued, "I would not wish that experience on any woman. Of course, it would be my privilege to help you in your moment of need."
Claudia felt her jaw drop, but she was powerless not to gape. Something about what Dante had tried to do to her got under this guy's powerful skin. Anya had told her that she could sympathize. Suddenly Claudia felt sick. What had happened to Anya that she could understand Claudia's situation? What had happened to make her brother more willing to help a woman in distress?
For the first time Claudia pondered the idea of staying and confronting Dante and Franco. With men like Tyson King and Vladimir Sitnikov at her back, and a friend like Anya at her side, she might actually survive. But as soon as the thought occurred to her it flitted out of her brain. She just couldn't bring herself to trust another man that wanted to lock her up and take care of her, as much as her body craved the possessive touch of her new lover.
Vladimir's calculating eyes followed her every micro-expression. She was glad she didn't have to do business with the chilling intense man. She could only imagine the people in his orbit pinned on the other side of that gaze, wondering if he was determining their use to him and whether they were better to him alive or dead. She shivered.
His sharp eyes took note. "I will have Boris show you to a room where you can rest for a few moments while I make arrangements for your journey."
Relief flooded through her, making Claudia feel light headed. She knew Vladimir Sitnikov was as good as his word. A man in his position would have to be. She wanted to smile and thank him. Tell him that she was grateful.
Instead, in typical Claudia fashion, she said, "Seriously!? Your butler's name is actually Boris?"