Page 67 of Bedazzled
“Why didn’t you tell me!” she exploded, “I would have come with you! This is dangerous and I know you’re calling me because you won’t tell Yuri.”
“You are correct,” I said, “I’m not going to risk letting Yuri get distracted. Look, I know it sounds so trusting that it’s pathetic, but I don’t think I’m in danger here. Whatever the favor is-” I shuddered, feeling sick again, “-it’s not going to kill me. He’s helped us with the O’Connell thing, I can do this.”
“Where are you going?” Ella asked plaintively.
“I don’t know,” I confessed, “he’s not telling me.
The SUV pulled up to a Boeing 767-33A ER jet and my gigantic minder got out, opening my door. “I have to go. I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
“This is wrong, honey,” she fretted, “I should be with you.”
“Trust me, I got this. Now, love your guts.”
“Love yours more,” Ella said, “be safe.”
I wasn’t proud of it, but I’d definitely been spoiled by being married to a billionaire. Any luxuries I’ve enjoyed with Yuri paled in comparison to O’Rouke’s private jet.
An impeccably beautiful flight attendant named Kimber showed me around, to the huge bathroom with a jacuzzi tub, a palatial bedroom with a king-sized bed with silk blankets, and the “theater room” with a TV that stretched the width of the cabin and leather recliners. When we got to the main cabin and I viewed the magnificent throne-like seat, slightly elevated over the surrounding ones, I started laughing. “So what do you think O’Rourke would do if I sat in his throne chair?”
She smiled anxiously. “Can I show you to a comfortable corner Mrs. Morozov? It will make setting up your workstation a little easier.”
I was so tempted to sit in the ridiculous throne chair but I didn’t want the poor woman to have an aneurysm, so I followed her to a corner where a large and extremely expensive laptop was already set up. After fluttering around me, adjusting the heat, and offering me blankets, snacks, champagne - that one I accepted - Kimber told me that she’d be back with my cocktail and that O’Rourke would be calling in shortly.
I shifted uneasily, looking around the cabin, too nervous to settle in.
Sure enough, a buzz came from the open laptop and his face appeared on the screen. “Hello, Tania. I knew a woman with your cunning would have no trouble outwitting her bodyguards.”
“What’s the plan here, Nolan?” I asked flatly.
“Your flight is about three and a half hours, and I thought I might keep you busy.”
“Nothing better to do, what’s on your mind,” I said, trying to look like this whole thing wasn’t freaking me out. Like I was used to traveling on weird billionaire’s planes for mysterious errands that would no doubt be horrible in some way.
“You are quite good with numbers, darling. My cybersecurity head notified me when you were poking around my finances when Papachristodoulopoulos approached me about investing in the Lincoln Street project.”
“He did?”
Well damn, I thought I had gotten in and out without a ripple!
“Yes, I didn’t take offense. I did fire him for not catching you more quickly.”
Now I felt guilty.
“But I find myself thinking you could help me do a little digging,” he continued.
“Sounds like you fired your cybersecurity guy a little too soon?”
“My cybersecurity staff numbers at over 200, along with several excellent freelance hackers,” he chuckled condescendingly, “but I thought you might enjoy this since my system’s ability to crack a firewall is unparalleled.”
“Some people might think you’re showing off right now,” I said sourly, “but okay. What am I doing?”
He went to a split screen and I watched a waterfall of numbers pour down the monitor. “The O’Connell Mob have been storing their funds in various offshore banks and legitimate business concerns. This is money they must use to continue to function in other areas while they build their distillery business. It would be a terrible shame if the funds evaporated, right when they needed them the most, wouldn’t it?”
“Can I just say that I find your spiteful nature to be your most attractive quality?” I asked, then wincing when I remembered I’d been on the receiving end of it.
“Thank you, I am very proud of it. I thought you’d enjoy this,” he said magnanimously.
“You would be correct,” I said, cracking my knuckles. “Because fuck those guys.”
