Page 10

I’m nervous, sitting in the passenger seat next to Rigor as we drive through Boston towards the docks where one of his warehouses is located. Today is the day I get to see everything for myself.

My stomach is in a tight knot and I can’t stop biting my lip to the point where it’s going to start hurting soon. I don’t know what to expect and it’s terrifying.

It took me ages to get ready. I couldn’t figure out what a person wears to see the mafia underworld of Boston city. What is the best dress code for that kind of situation?

I eventually gave up thinking about it and put on some jeans and white sneakers with a white lace shirt.

Rigor told me I looked lovely.

I think I look like a nervous wreck because that’s how I feel.

It’s a hot sunny day outside and the jeans are making me sweat. Or maybe it’s the nerves. I roll my window down to let in some air.

The city flies by my window and I’m not even paying attention or appreciating the fact that I’m outside and enjoying different views from the mansion I’ve been locked in for about two weeks.

All I can think about is where he’s taking me.

What am I about to see?

The seedy underbelly?

Violence?

The darkest pieces of humanity all crammed into one place?

The scum of the earth?

I look towards Rigor and trace my eyes over his rugged, handsome profile. His crisp black suit, the edge of his tattoo peeking out from the top few buttons which are loose.

He doesn’t look like the seedy underbelly of the city. He looks fucking divine. He’s gorgeous, masculine, powerful, fresh and—now I’m staring too long. My stomach flips. Dammit, Aly. Get a grip.

He grins and I quickly turn my head the other way—back towards the window and the city. My hair flicks around me as the wind whips it in random directions.

My cheeks are flushing warm with fresh blood flowing into my face and making me glow with embarrassment.

I hate the fact that I find him so attractive.

I hate the fact that if he was to kiss me I’d melt into his arms and let him do whatever he wanted to me.

The tension between us gets worse every day and while I do my best to ignore it or deny it and pretend it doesn’t exist—it’s there.

I can feel it.

All the time.

And it’s driving me crazy.

I thought getting out of the house a bit would help with that but so far it’s not. It doesn’t matter where we are—if he’s close to me—I’m turned on and thinking mischievous thoughts.

I huff loudly, ringing my fingers together in my lap.

“How much further is it?” I ask, refocusing my thoughts.

“We’re here,” he answers, turning off the main road into the back end of the docks. I can smell ocean and fish and oil. I can hear the loud clangs of metal on metal and the shouts of working-class men. We drive past a massive crane lifting a container and swinging it onto the deck of a waiting ship.

This isn’t the pretty side of the docks with the yachts and sunset cocktail parties. This is the side with massive steel structures and oversized warehouses with no windows and dubious activities going on behind closed doors.

This is where the mafia conducts their business, apparently.

I take a deep breath, forcing my heart to settle and beat a little slower. No matter what I see when I walk through those doors I want to be calm and appear unafraid.

Rigor parks the car in a gravel parking area outside the main entrance of his warehouse.

“Are you ready?” he asks, looking at me with those piercing grey eyes.

I nod, not trusting my throat to let me speak because it feels tight and dry.

I push the door open and climb out of the car.

I am ready. I want to know everything about the world my brother operates in. Everything he’s kept from me about who he is.

I push aside the fear and follow close behind Rigor as we walk into the warehouse.

I can feel Rigor’s eyes on me as I turn in a slow circle and look around.

This isn’t at all what I expected. Everything is neat and orderly.

Men and women walk past us and greet us with a smile and a friendly wave. Some shake Rigor’s hand.

Some are wearing work overalls, and some are in jeans and a t-shirt.

Everyone looks so normal. None of them look like the murderous monsters I was expecting to find. The ones that kept me awake last night.

A man with a tattoo across his cheek comes up to Rigor and addresses him politely.

“Good morning, sir. I was hoping you’d come in today. I wanted to run the new packing system by you—check if you’re happy with it. We’re able to get a lot more into a container this way.”

“Of course, I’ve got time now.” He turns to look at me. “This is Alyona. I brought her to see what this place was all about.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss. Alyona.” The tattoo faced man smiles and holds out his dirty hand. He chuckles and pulls his hand back, wiping it on his overalls. “Sorry,” he mutters.

I can’t help staring at the black ink on his cheek, a snake that threads itself through imaginary holes in his skin. He reaches up and touches it, looking self-conscious and I feel guilt run through me for staring.

I quickly look away. “It’s ok, everyone stares when they first meet me. I was young and stupid once. I got it in prison. But that was a lifetime ago.”

“Prison?” I stammer, with anxiety bubbling in my stomach.

“Yeah, I was only in for six months, but when you’re that young it feels like a lifetime. After I got out, I spent three years trying to find work. No one would hire me. I was living on the streets until a friend introduced me to Rigor and he gave me a chance. I’ve been working here ever since.” He looks towards Rigor with a nod of thanks and respect.

Rigor smiles tightly. “You’re good at what you do, Tony. We’re lucky to have you here.”

Tony grins and shifts at the compliment. Then he nods, his face professional again. “Let’s take a look at that system.”

We follow Tony between the crates and boxes and people working.

Everyone looks happy and relaxed. Some people are working with headphones on, listening to music while they sort through products and others are chatting and working as a team.

Once Rigor has let Tony know he’s happy with the new packing systems, Rigor leads me around to meet a few other people.

Jenna is a single mom who escaped an abusive relationship. She is not in the country legally but can’t leave because her ex stole her passport. She can’t get a new one and can’t get normal work without it.

Rigor has hired her as his personal assistant and is currently helping her apply for a new identity along with a passport for her and her five-year-old son while setting them up with accommodation in a safe house where her ex can’t find her.

Amarok is an older man who couldn’t find decent paying work because of his age. He got forcibly retired after working years for the government sanitation department and can’t survive off his ridiculously low pension. He’s also determined not to sit at home and rot, he wants to keep moving, keep having a purpose.

He is slow, but efficient and Rigor hired him to keep the place clean and do basic maintenance here and there. A groundskeeper of sorts. I can see he takes his job very seriously and takes pride in it all.

The more Rigor shows me, the more confused I become. Where is the illegal stuff—the scary stuff—the stuff of nightmares? Where are the things like I saw in the video of Avraam?

“What do you think?” Rigor asks, leading me into his neat, small office up on one of the platforms on the second level of the warehouse.

It has a large window with open blinds that look out onto the factory floor.

“Why do you hire these people? What makes you choose them?” I stare across the warehouse watching the people I’ve just met moving about on the lower level.

“These people? They are just normal people trying to make an honest living. Some of them made mistakes, some of them are too old to get a decent paying job anywhere else. But they are all hard workers. They put the effort in to be a part of our team and we take care of them as best we can.”

“Do they earn good money here?” I know I’m asking personal questions, but that is the whole point. I want to know everything.

“They earn triple, sometimes more, than they were earning before. The city doesn’t like them. Left overs, ex criminals, family men struggling to feed too many children, people with little or no education—but we do our best to find a place for everyone. They won’t find better work anywhere else, I can promise you that.” He comes to stand next to me, looking through the window at his employees. “They all have medical benefits and retirements plans too. Like I said—we take care of them.”

“Why do you do this?” I ask, knotting my brows towards him.

“Why do I help people? I don’t understand your question.”

“You’re obviously good with people, you care about people too, so why do you choose an illegal life instead of an honest one?”

He chuckles and tilts his head to the side.

“Do you really think your government is honest? We live in a broken system full of rules made up by people who want to maintain control over us. They want to stay in power and keep the average person struggling in their flawed system. The work I do is no more criminal than what governments do to their own people.”

I ponder his words in silence. How is it that he can make it sound so logical? But again I’m thinking that I’m only seeing half of it here. He’s still hiding so much from me.

“It is different from what you expected to find?” he asks.

“It’s—um—it’s not at all what I expected,” I whisper, trying to gather my thoughts.

“What did you expect?” he asks with confusion.

“The video—my brother—can you show me that side of it. This is all so—normal. It’s neat and organized and functional.”

He laughs. “How else did you think a business would run?”

“Show me the things from the video,” I demand, getting annoyed.

Rigor gently runs his hand down my arm and electricity bolts through me. “Those things don’t happen all the time, Aly. And even if they were happening right now—you are not ready to see that yet. But I do have more to show you from our world.”

I fold my arms across my chest and glare at him. “We have a deal, don’t we? You are going to teach me about everything.”

He nods. “We have a deal. One step at a time though.”

I sigh, “Ok, what else are you going to show me?”

He takes my hand, and I should pull away, but instead I let him lead me out of the office and back towards where we parked.

He pulls the door open for me and waits while I climb inside.

“We’re going to another venue, a different part of our business.” He smiles as he closes the door behind me.

This time he drives me into the center of town, to a high rise with glass walls that reflect the sky and loom far above me.

I am already out of the car by the time he comes around to open the door for me.

He walks towards the front entrance and the glass doors slide open into a very luxurious foyer. “This is a hotel,” I remark.

“It is. One my family uses for meeting our top investors and clients. We also own the spa on the top floor. Along with a few of the hotel rooms.”

“Good morning, Mr. Kuznetsov,” the receptionist greets us.

“Good morning. You can call up to the spa and let them know I’ve brought a guest.”

“Yes, sir,” she smiles politely.

We climb into the elevator and it carries us up to the very top floor. My stomach flips when I walk from the elevator to another reception desk. I’m right up against the glass walls and the view is insane. I’m dizzy from vertigo when I peer down the outside of the building.

“Good morning, please have one of the rooms set up for the full package for Aly and me.” Rigor speaks with confidence and people rush around to fulfill his requests.

In no time at all both of us are wearing the softest silky robes and being led to a private room with more magnificent views.

The afternoon changes drastically. I go from expecting to see crime lords at work to getting head to toe pampered in the most expensive and fancy wellness spa in the city. I sigh with contentment while the skilled masseuse presses her fingers into the soles of my foot. A gorgeous scent of wild flowers and vanilla drifts from the oil she is using.

“This is amazing” I sigh again.

I hear Rigor chuckle. “There are a number of benefits to our world, Aly. I thought you should understand everything—from every angle.”