Dark Chase (The Gunrunner Series) Read Free Page B

guards moved in. He held up his hand, and they stopped, throwing concerned glances at each other. “It was not my intention to insult you, dear friend. Only to explain.”
    “No,” Dmitri said. “That is my answer.” He stood. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
    “Wait!” Hitoshi said. “Please. You are my only hope.”
    Dmitri paused, but did not speak. Silence was the most powerful negotiator.
    Hitoshi shoulders sagged. “Five million. Four months of your services.”
    Dmitri sat back down. “Make it ten, and I want ten percent of your revenue plus a future stake in your business. You need to do some succession planning.”
    Hitoshi smiled. “You make a tough bargain.”
    Dmitri smiled back. “I am a businessman.”
    Hitoshi sighed. “I am well aware of your skills, Dmitri. I will give you what you have asked.”
    Dmitri stood, bowed deeply, and left with Gram in tow. “What the fuck did I just agree to?” he said to Gram as they wove through the crowded streets of Tokyo.
    “Your future in Asia. Brilliant,” Gram muttered.
    Dmitri said nothing. He always let his thoughts process through his careful internal filter before he shared them.
    He could not stomach the thought of pretending to be interested in another woman. Sophia had ripped him up inside in a way he dared not discuss or let on, not even to Gram.
    They were back in their hotel twenty minutes later. They poured some more stiff drinks, sat on the balcony, and started planning their expansion into East Asia.

Chapter 3
    SOPHIA
    “Oh, God,” Sophia groaned. She rolled over in her hotel room bed. The movement made her dizzy.
    She was hung over. Beyond hung over. The night before was a haze. Shots. Dancing. Flirting with men. More shots. Throwing money into the pretty jars for the strippers. Stumbling into the streets in the middle of the night. Drunk girls filling her hotel room. Ordering room service in the middle of the night.
    She opened her eyes. She was still fully clothed in her little black dress. “Jeez,” Sophia said out loud. She sat up slowly. Glasses and plates were scattered around the floor and furniture. It smelled like stale cigarettes and booze.
    She stood, stretching. A lean figure sat outside on her balcony, wrapped in her robe, smoking. A telltale splash of platinum blond hair was wrapped in a tight coil on top of her head.
    Sophia pulled a sweater out of one of her drawers. Her purse was on its side, open on the bureau, wallet spilling out and open, too. She snatched it up, relieved to see her cards, ID, and cash were still inside.
    She glanced around her room—everything looked a little rifled, like someone had searched it.
    She sighed, her eyes traveling back to Tatiana outside. What was she up to?
    She wrapped the sweater around her, shoved her feet into slippers, and joined Tatiana on the balcony.
    “Morning, Miss America,” Tatiana drawled in Russian. She took a long drag of her cigarette.
    “Morning.” Sophia collapsed in the chair next to her.
    Tatiana pushed a steaming cup of coffee towards it. “Drink. I don’t like it. I made what you had in that little coffee maker.”
    Sophia suppressed an eye roll and grabbed the mug. The coffee was the cheap variety that came in individual packets—she usually didn’t drink it—she preferred to order from the floor butler. She took a sip from the mug.
    Tatiana stubbed out her cigarette in a makeshift ashtray that was one of the little white plates from her room.
    “You went through my purse,” Sophia said.
    Tatiana smiled. Her thick, black eyeliner had smeared down half her face, but she was still pretty. “I didn’t take anything.”
    Sophia thought about that while she took another drink of the bitter coffee. “You were going to?”
    Tatiana shrugged. “I like you, Miss America.” She smiled brightly. “You live here?”
    Sophia glanced back to her patio door. “Yeah, I do for now.”
    “Why?” Tatiana leaned forward, placing her slim fingers with bright