Volkster, aha, ur obssesion, my passion! Sounds like microsoft slogan. Omg, bill gate has got
me!
Showmelove2, i dunno how to thank u for following every story i wrote even in the
bad time.
And yes, i've been busy rewriting DW. It is near
reality more than ever. (not yet now). LOL.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
CHAPTER 12
Several black cars moved along a small road in the deserted suburban area outside Chicago.
Tonight was another important meeting for Lena and Roland. In the lead car, they sat
in the back seat. Oliver was their driver.
“Why did you do it?” Roland asked. Lena had confessed what she did last night
on their way here.
“I’m sorry.” Lena kept her gaze out the window. “I didn’t mean to ruin everything.
It was just… I was, umm, I was sort of drunk…”
“That was a lame excuse, Lena.”
The opinion Yulia had of him truly hurt. He knew his origin would always pull him back.
When he first started in this business, he only wanted money just to have a comfortable life.
Strangely, it wasn’t enough now. Lena never cared about such thing, but being the Irish
would never make her understand. He started out as her right hand, and he would always be
in her shadows. He now wanted something to make himself feel better, and Yulia Volkova
seemed to be the prize.
“I won’t interfere with your personal life again,” Lena said, but without anger.
Roland became reluctant. He still wanted Lena in every aspect of his life. He wanted her
close. But it seemed that his ambition only drove them further apart. He wondered if she
viewed him as a disgusting social climber now.
“I shouldn’t have brought you into this mess…
But I’m really happy to know that you still care for me.”
Puzzled, Lena turned to look at him. “I always do.”
Roland smiled and reached out to hold her hand. She smiled back. But from the distant
look in her eyes, he knew she was hiding something again. There would be a time they
need to discuss it in private.
>>>
Lena and Roland walked through the gigantic door of the warehouse with their men closely behind.
Frederick Young sat himself at the long table, ten of his men standing behind him. He was in
his late fifties and couldn’t have been more than five six. The thick, black coat he had on
couldn’t really hide his large belly. Staring at Lena, a smile came across Frederick’s lips. He
finally got up and offered her a handshake.
“Welcome to our first deal, Irish,” Frederick said, grinning. His gaze briefly averted to
Roland. “And you must be the Italian?”
Frederick’s men laughed aloud, and Roland cringed.
“Roland Myer.” Roland extended his hand, but Frederick didn’t seem to see it.
“Bad knees!” Frederick pouted, carefully sitting down.
“As you already knew, we’re here to discuss the arrangement, Mr. Young. You give us a bad
deal,” Lena droned, looking elsewhere.
Roland glanced at Lena. Lately, he had gone to business meetings by himself. It was an
undeniable sign that Lena tried to slip out of limelight, or this business altogether. But he
never brought the subject up. Selfishly, he needed her name to get through. He felt relieved
now that Lena seemed to be involved tonight. She had yet completely abandoned him.
“A bad deal, you say,” Frederick said, stroking his belly a bit as he burped. “This Myer agreed
at three hundreds millions on the phone.”
Roland cringed. He didn’t tell Lena this bit of information because he thought he was handling
it just fine. He had no idea Lena would be asking for more. Bad preparation!
“With all due respect, you can try any other agency out there, but you will find none with
the price below five for this amount of goods.”
In a quick glimpse, Lena would look like a girl, bargaining with her father over tonight’s
curfew. But the cold look in her eyes couldn’t be mistaken. There was no hesitation, nor
mercy. It was the eye of a killer.
“I heard that smelly Russian was interested in weapons… Are you exclusively his agent for the
supplies?” Frederick asked.
Lena didn’t answer, but lighted up a cigarette instead.
“For a certain type of goods, we accept one client at a time,” Roland replied.
Frederick must have heard Roland, but he gave no sign of it. He glared at Lena and
chortled. “I’m a reasonable man, Irish. I’ll stay with heroin… for now.”
Roland took that remark as a threat, whether it was on them, or Dimitri Volkov. It happened
that Frederick was a distant cousin on Dimitri’s mother’s side. The men first met thirty years
ago when Dimitri immigrated to America. It was Frederick who brought Dimitri into this
underground world. They didn’t speak much to one another in recent years, and everyone
could only guess why. Business was business.
“I have many friends, and Kirk Mason was one of them,” Frederick continued. But Lena didn’t
respond; she calmly sucked in and exhaled the smoke as if she never heard of Mason
before. “He was a good man, and after three long years, I’m still wondering what reason you
disagreed with me.”
Lena looked up, her gaze deadly. “We’re here to talk business. Keep it at that.”
Frederick didn’t flinch. His smile was equally threatening. “All right, young one. Five hundreds
millions for the deal, but I have a special request you must fulfill, Irish, or just forget about this
whole evening.”
>>>
Everyone headed out to the cars after the meeting was over. Roland stopped in front of the
warehouse, looking at Lena. Frederick didn’t elaborate the details of the deal he had in mind
just for the Irish, demanding a private talk instead. Lena had no choice but to agree.
“Ring me later,” Roland whispered.
Lena nodded and then followed Frederick’s men to their car.
Roland didn’t trust Frederick at all, but they had a handsome deal that was more important
than personal disagreement. They needed one another. He just hoped his instinct was right.
>>>
“Aren’t you afraid?”
In the back seat, Lena turned to look at Frederick, who was sitting beside her. The cars were
heading out into the small road, but the destination was still unknown to her.
“I am the only one who knows why the cops didn’t dare to put their fingers on your
notorious case, why they let my friend died without dignity and justice.”
“Might I repeat what you already knew? Kirk Mason deserved either dignity or justice. He died
like a dog, and he rightfully earned it.”
Frederick laughed, and then fiercely turned to glare out the window as if he couldn’t stand
looking at her. “Do not take this the wrong way. I can always put personal troubles aside
when it concerns business. I just want to make sure you don’t socialize with Senator Iver
anymore.”
Lena stopped when she heard the name. Victor Iver was a powerful man and, like many
righteous or corrupted ones, he was glad to see Mason go. With Iver’s help, the case was
closed without any investigation. Millions of dollars was spent, buying and killing off people
involved in this scam. After everything was solved,
the Irish became the untouchable,
and to protect his reputation, Senator Iver demanded they should never see each other
again.
“We haven’t met or talked ever since,” Lena said quietly. But she knew nobody would believe
it. With all the money she was making nowadays, everyone would have thought that the
senator had his fair share in it.
“You do understand that I detest politicians, those wretched, manipulative liars… My request
for you is to kill the senator.”
Lena would have said ‘no’ without a thought, but she opted to keep quiet right now. Not
only their deal was gone if she refused right away, but she wouldn’t be able to get out of
here alive.
“You have done the impossible, Irish. Now, gain my trust,” Frederick said.
“I will.”
Frederick watched her for a moment and then tapped on his driver’s shoulder. The car
stopped. Frederick pulled out the gun he confiscated from Lena and handed it back to her.
“Take her home,” he instructed the driver. “I hope our future lie together.” He smiled at Lena
and got out of the car to get on another one.
Feeling the gun’s weight, Lena chuckled at how bad of a liar she was. Young didn’t believe
that she would kill the senator by just looking into her eyes. He had taken the bullets out,
and the driver wasn’t taking her home tonight.