Chapter 9: Nine

When she got back, the café was alive, and she snuck in through the employee entrance while Lin badgered her with questions.

The ride from Lucas’ place was just as bad, even with the glass panel preventing him from talking to her. But the need to release was bubbling inside of her. She had squeezed her thighs shut and dug her nails into her palms to keep from touching herself where Lin might see. It would give him too many ideas. It would make her look weak. 

And now she hurried passed Julia, who glanced up at her with a smile. All she could manage was a small not before running into the apartment upstairs. It had a bedroom and an office where a large painting of her Baba guarded her desk. His stern face and hardened chin glared down at her, but she shut the door to her office and hurried towards her bed. She threw off her coat, tore off her blouse, and climbed into her bed, ignoring Lin as he entered after her.

“Ma’am. Please. You have another meeting with the Russians tonight. They’re going to have questions after what happened with the French.”

She took a deep breath, holding the covers over her head. “I need to rest now. Inform my father and schedule a phone call with him for this evening. I will see the Russians as well. But for now, if you don’t leave my room, I will strangle you with my bare hands.”

The door shut and she darted up to lock it. Everything was on fire. She was on fire. It was the Delight, she told herself. The Delight. It was still in her system.

But that was impossible. Even the most potent of the pills only lasted for eight hours. And it had been almost sixteen since the citrus wine.

 

When she woke up, she almost thought Kramer was standing over her bed, and she reached out to him. To touch him. To feel him. To have him. She was already naked. Come join me.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am.” It was Lin.

She bolted up. “What the fuck?”

Then she caught sight of him. The front of his white shirt was now a dark red that still spread across his chest. He was leaning heavily on one foot. 

“I failed you. And I failed mistress as well.”

“What happened?” Elsa threw off the covers, not caring that she wasn’t clothed. She grabbed a gown from her closet and then slipped on a pair of tights. Then she pulled out the pistols she kept beneath her pile of jeans.

“No, Ma’am.” Lin collapsed to the floor. “They’ve already gone.”

She grit her teeth and walked over to him, bending down to lift up his head. “Who’s gone? Who did this to you?”

He coughed. “The French.” Then his eyes went dim, and his chest stopped shivering.

She sat back and stared at his corpse. The French? Mr. Bovver? But he was at the bottom of the river. Were they back together? How could they survive without their head?

She closed her eyes as heavy footsteps sounded behind her. 

“Elsa, get the fuck up.”

The voice. It was familiar. “Lucas?” She turned and flew backward as the point of a boot caught her in the face. Pain erupted in her nose as her head hit the post of her bed. Her legs had fallen on something wet: Lin’s chest.

Lucas towered over her as she clutched her face. He was dressed in a military uniform. The green and brown tightly fitted to his muscular features.

“Lucas, what are you doing?”

He bent down and picked up the pistol she’d dropped. “I’m putting things right.” 

She watched him as he brought it to her face, unable to look away from the scar on his chin.

“This is the only way we could ever be together.”

Elsa woke up with a bang. Followed by another. Lin called from the hall as he hammered on her door.

“Yes?” she asked, pulling off the covers and standing up. She felt better. It must have finally left her system. She glanced at the clock, realizing what Lin was about to say.

“The Russians-”

She threw a shoe at the door. “I know. Have my usual booth prepared.”

“Very well, Ma’am.” Footsteps led away, and she sighed, realizing she’d have to slip into the shower. The pungent smell of sweat combined with the sweetness that had seeped from her skin all night would not be proper for a meeting. But a part of her… she’d almost missed this Delight induced aroma. 

Mr. Bovver’s fat body sprawled on his seat flashed in her mind. His hand was back on her ass. And she was tipping the glass into her mouth, sinking the wine and sending the drug coursing through her bloodstream. Had he done it before?

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It was impossible to tell with Delight. Sex covered any trace, every trace, and as far as she knew, an orgasm was the only cure besides time.

But why had it lasted so long in her body this time? Was it because she hadn’t used in almost six years? She stepped into the tub, grateful for the cool touch of the pink tiles against her body. She had too many things to worry about now, no time for Lucas.

 

When she sat down on the leather couch, she felt fresh. She inhaled the wonderful scent of brewing coffee and waved at Julia for her own cup. She wasn’t able to celebrate her victory before.

Lin sat down next to her. “Mrs. Markova will be here shortly.”

Elsa nodded, aware of how close to the gap in her dress Lin’s hand rested. Her outfit was short cropped, all black with twin strands keeping it on her shoulders. It split at the waist so that most of her left thigh was visible; it made her feel powerful.

“Elsa!” shouted a bright voice as the beautiful blonde head of Anya Markova stepped into the private booth. It was shut off from the rest of the café by a two-way mirror. The rest of the world was visible in black and white, but they were invisible once the door was shut and one of Anya’s guards, large man the size of a buffalo, sat down on the other couch. Her other man stood outside the door, glancing around until Julia came up and offered him a glass of coffee. Elsa thought Kramer could take both of them with ease.

“Anya,” said Elsa with a smile, standing up to kiss the taller woman on each cheek. In a fur coat that stretched down to her ankles, the Russian mafia hostess was one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen. Her cheekbones were sharp enough to slice cheese.

The Russian smiled then patted her guard’s lap before sitting on his thighs. Elsa sat herself back down, an inch further from Lin.

“Well. Let’s get down to business. Anya was never one for wasting time. In fact, she’d once taken up a disguise to seduce a rival gang leader, who was then found naked in a hotel bathtub with fourteen stab wounds to his heart. And that was only because he’d said he would tear her ass up after threatening her operation.

Lin answered first, much to Elsa’s chagrin. “I’m sure you’ve heard by now of what happened on the Hudson.”

“Yes,” she said, nodding, but not taking her eyes off of Elsa. “Tell me. Was that you?”

Elsa smiled again. “He was dealing with the Japanese.” 

Anya nodded. “Was he planning a coup?”

“No way to know now. But I’ve got the book.” Elsa pulled it out of her inside pocket and laid it on the table. “You are now the sole dealer of Delight in this city.”

A smile stretched across her striking red lips as her bodyguard put his arms around her waist. “I’m sure you won’t need anyone else.”

Lin pulled out his phone. “We have another shipment in two weeks. Will your people be able to handle this volume of product?” He swiped his hair to the side, glancing at Elsa before continuing. “The French were always good for their word.”

The knife seemed to have procured itself from thin air before having its point buried into the coffee table. Anya glared at Lin. “Do not doubt my people’s diligence.” Then she turned towards Elsa, her scowl lightning. “We have been planning an expansion for a while now. Business in Los Angeles is blooming too.”

Elsa crossed her legs. What she remembered of Los Angeles was bright lights and strong hands and the flashes of pink and messy hotel rooms. A place she hasn’t visited since she’d given up Delight. 

But Anya hadn’t finished. She bent forward and grabbed the handle of the knife. “Elsa, from one woman to another, I recommend you get more guns.”

Elsa blinked. “Baba has provided me with enough.”

“Your Baba isn’t here, and you’ve just pissed off the French. If they find out who,” she slid a long red fingernail across her neck, “their boss, and they will figure it out, they’re going to come after you. They have their allies too.”

“You’re saying I should get a bodyguard like him?” Elsa nodded towards Anya’s man with a small smile.

The Russian woman laughed, deep and hearty before glancing at Lin. “Yes. Not like this stick here.”

Lin scowled, looking sullen. “I can defend myself well enough thank you. A stick can still pull a trigger.”

Elsa shook her head. “I don’t think they’ll figure it out anytime soon.” She stood up and bowed. “Thank you for meeting with me, Anya Markova.”

She stood up and shook her blond locks. “I’ll be seeing you again, Elsa Chung. Send your father my regards.”

The Russians were gone, leaving Elsa alone with Lin. She patted his knee. “Tell the men to increase the defenses. My house is to be guarded 24/7 now.”

He nodded. “I should stay with you at nights, ma’am.”

Elsa resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Very well. But I’m not my mother. Any funny business and I’ll cut off your manhood.” She squeezed his leg. “Tell Julia to send a cup of coffee to my office. I need to speak to my father.”

She took a deep breath as Lin left the room. Elsa watched him bark at Julia, whose freckled face glanced towards the booth. The young girl was so sweet and innocent; she was only here because her dad used to work for Baba. 

Elsa sighed, feeling the usual storm of butterflies in her stomach before she dialed her father. But this was preferable to the rush of blind lust that she’d felt earlier, the concoction of Delight and Kramer; she shivered and left the booth, feeling as if a ghost had made her insides a home.

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