Dangerous Liaisons (Crimson Legion MC #1)

4. CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR

I t was a ritzy, overpriced hotel, and the last place she wanted to be at that very moment. Isabella tapped her fingers against the top of the glass table in the suite and ignored the way Kira sighed from the patio door. At any other time, it would have been amusing to see her bodyguard hungover and miserable, but all she felt at that moment was irritation.

“I hope you are seeing three of me,” she glared at her friend. “You disobeyed me last night.”

Yawning, the Russian shrugged. “The blonde one wanted to fuck me. ”

“And the man whose girlfriend you kissed?”

Kira’s attempt to glare failed as she winced from the apparent headache she was experiencing. “You are high and mighty for someone that smells like Stoli,” she mumbled.

Isabella rolled her eyes. She knew Kira was aware Xavier had visited her but had not questioned the reason behind the visit. It was best for all involved. She didn’t have the patience for it.

A knock on the door had them looking away from each other as it opened, and Diego Martinez entered followed by his bodyguard. The sight of two members of the Spartan Warriors MC entering closely behind him was not what she expected.

She remained seated as Kira moved to stand behind her. She looked away from the newcomers to focus on the Mexican cartel boss. “You’re late.”

Diego unbuttoned his jacket and took a seat across from her. “Traffic, I apologize.”

Finding a spot on the edge of the mattress, one biker motioned at the other to take a seat. He glared at his friend as the man flopped down onto the bed. The tan biker seemed unfazed by the look and folded his arms behind his head in a supportive position.

“What is this about, Diego? ”

He slid his sunglasses off and tossed them onto the table. “I’m aware of your meeting with the Crimson Legion. Did you not think I would find out?”

“We both know you’re in no position to make demands.”

“Our agreement-”

“Our agreement went void after you could not come up with two shipments in a row. That’s poor business, Diego, and I don’t do poor business.” She eyed him. “Because of this, I’m taking the Legion off your hands. We’re aware that they’re a little too much for you to handle while you’re having problems keeping promises.”

“Alexander Volkov will-”

“Volkov has pledged loyalty to me.” It didn’t surprise her he would bring up another respected Russian boss. “He will no longer do business with you as will no other Russian syndicate you attempt to contact. That line of cash flow has ended for you.”

“You are very close to declaring war, Isabella. I beg you to reconsider.”

She looked over her shoulder in amusement at Kira who shrugged, no other emotion on the woman’s face. “Your connections are drying up, your father’s contacts dying in jail or afraid to come even two feet of you. All that’s left before me is a son unable to live up to his father’s image.”

“I am trying to be reasonable about this.”

“No, you are attempting to be something you are not,” she sighed. “Take my advice, Diego. Marry, have some kids, and leave your father’s memory in the past along with his mistakes. I have controlling interest over the gun trade now, there is nothing you can do about it. The Crimson Legion works with me, and I hope the same will happen with the other clubs.” She didn’t glance at the two MC members to catch their response to her statement. “In two months’ time, you will either be on a beach somewhere having taken my advice, or you’ll be dead. It is your choice.”

“You are making a mistake. I don’t wish to be at war.”

“Should that be the choice you’re making, I can do nothing to stop that. I’ve survived bigger threats than you, Diego; you will not be the thing to bring me down.”

“I have contacts within your organization. I have people that will side with me.”

With a sigh, Isabella rose to her feet. “Your veiled threats hold no weight with me. Take my advice. If I see you again, the conversation will not end as cordially.”

Had the tension not been so intense at that moment, she would have found amusement in the sight of the two bikers who looked on the verge of bursting into laughter.

She motioned at Kira, who hadn’t moved from the wall. Her eyes were locked on Diego. “We’re done here.”

Kira bared her teeth at Diego before she moved to follow, neither ignoring the fact that his own bodyguard had sat there the entire time, not speaking. He remained silent; his eyes locked on his boss.

Xavier crouched over the gleaming chrome of his motorcycle, the smell of oil and metal filling the surrounding air. The sun hung low in the sky, casting warm light across the garage and illuminating the scattered tools and parts littering the workbench. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, focusing on the task at hand as he adjusted the carburetor.

Each twist of the wrench was a reminder of the freedom he had fought to reclaim. After years in prison, he had emerged into a world that felt both familiar and foreign. The roar of an engine was more than just sound, it was a lifeline, a way to carve out a new identity away from the shadows of his past.

He leaned back, taking a moment to admire the bike—a custom build that had consumed his thoughts and energy over the past few years. It was more than just a machine; it was a symbol of his rebirth. He remembered the first time he rode a bike after getting out; the wind rushing past him, the feeling of speed and liberation. It had felt like shedding chains. But the freedom was bittersweet. His past still lingered, a constant reminder of the choices that had led him to prison. He thought about the people he had left behind; the friendships forged and lost, and the weight of guilt that crept in. He had made mistakes, but he was determined not to let them define him.

As he tightened the last bolt, he caught sight of a photo pinned to the wall—a snapshot from a happier time, filled with friends and laughter at a bike rally. A pang of nostalgia hit him. He had been so carefree then, before everything had unraveled. This was his chance to start fresh. He wouldn’t squander it. With each bike he rebuilt, he was also rebuilding himself.

He stood up, stretching his back, and looked out at the open road visible through the garage door. He could almost hear the engine’s growl calling to him, promising adventure and escape. But tonight was different. He had a cookout to attend, and Isabella Romanov would be there.

The thought made him pause. Their business discussions had been intense, but there was something electric about her presence. She was strong-willed, unyielding, and he found himself drawn to her sharp intelligence. The cookout fostered goodwill, a way for them to connect outside the confines of negotiation.

With a deep breath, he wiped his hands on a rag and grabbed his helmet. He stepped outside; the sun warming his skin, and climbed onto the bike. As he revved the engine, the powerful roar echoed in the quiet evening, drowning out the ghosts of his past.

This was a mistake. She fought the wave of anxiety that crashed over her as the car came to a complete stop. She debated ordering Viktor to turn the car around, panicking as Kira grabbed her door handle, but the words got stuck in her throat, the woman swinging open the door. With a sigh, she exited the Mercedes.

“Do you wish to leave?”

She looked over at Kira, loud noises coming from inside the gates, and cleared her throat. “No, I am fine. This is a gesture of goodwill; it must be done.”

With a curt nod, Kira proceeded past the gates. Isabella took a minute to herself. It had been surprising to receive a call from Hunter inviting her to a cookout, but she took it for what it is, a gesture of good faith toward their newly formed business relationship.

Not that she was nervous, but out of her element, Kira having convinced her to wear her favorite pair of faded jeans and a formfitting black lace top. The plan was to be seen as approachable, a wise choice for a business partner before heading out. She didn’t intend to make it a late night, a flight scheduled early the next morning to Russia.

She made her way inside, mindful that Viktor remained with her. She paused just beyond the gate to survey the area, people littering the parking lot with drinks in their hands. A meat smoker was visible in the background, the smell of barbecue and smoke wafting through the air.

“Well, if it ain’t Elsa, come to grace us with her royal presence.”

She frowned as she recognized Lucas, the Spartan Warriors VP. “I may not know you very well, Mr. Doyle, but I’m not surprised you’ve seen that movie.”

“Hey, I got cousins. I know what cartoons are.” He eyed her with a smile as smoke drifted from the cigarette he held loosely in between his fingers. “Hunter said you might come, but I thought he was lying. Come to see how the other half lives?”

“I wasn’t always the head of a cartel. I’m well aware of how many people live.” She glanced around. “I see nothing wrong with this. In fact, it reminds me a lot of where I came from, except it didn’t smell as good.”

He wiggled his nose and took a drag from his cigarette. “What you said the other day with Gaston, did you mean that?”

She let out a laugh as she connected the dots to the fact that he was referring to Diego. “I did. I haven’t received a call from your president; however, should I expect one? ”

He shrugged with a small grin.

“Is he here?”

“Liam? Nah, he stayed home to write in his journal about his feelings. He’s sensitive like that. I’m only here as a show of peace and because I’m a fan of free food.”

Isabella laughed. “So if there’s a Gaston, who would you be?”

“Easy,” he scoffed, “I’m the candle stick because I’m long-”

“And you’ve said enough.” Ava, Hunter’s wife and what the club referred to as his old lady, appeared. “Stop scaring off the guests and go grab another beer.”

“Oh, come on. Elsa and I were just getting along!”

Rolling her eyes, she pushed him toward the clubhouse, ignoring him mumble under his breath. She gave Isabella’s outfit a quick look. “You look nice. That might be a problem.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your outfit might cause you problems in this kind of crowd, especially if you’re wanting to leave alone.”

“I didn’t come alone.”

“Kira isn’t your type. She’s shorter and less hairy.”

“I’m glad you find yourself so amusing. I was told to dress appropriately, but being that I have no chaps, this will have to do.”

“We can get you some if that’s your thing.”

Kira appeared next to them with a pork rib in her hand, her fingers coated with sauce. “I came to make sure you are playing nicely with one another. I am not in the mood tonight to break up-” She paused with a tilt of her head. “What do you Americans call it? A cat fight?”

“I think chick fight would be a better description.” Ava ignored the fact that the lighthearted words captured Lucas’s attention; the man perched on a picnic table not too far from them alongside another biker from his club.

“Why not a cat fight?” Kira frowned. “Does that not indicate pussy?”

He leaned forward so far that he fell off the table, his yelp of surprise catching the attention of everyone as he crashed onto the gravel.

Smirking, Ava watched two guys help him back to his feet.

“It is what he gets for eavesdropping,” Kira grumbled, “and he tried to steal my rib.”

“I believe you’re more upset about the rib,” Isabella paused as she caught sight of Ava smiling at her. “What?”

“It appears Elsa has a heart underneath that ice, after all.”

Isabella didn’t deny it, looking around at the crowd. Most of them paid her no attention. A few members of the MC looked toward them, but she chalked it up to the fact that they were acting civilly.

She caught sight of Eddie staring at Kira from where he stood near the smoker, a soft smile on his face while he nodded at something another member was saying. He paused, his face contorted in pain, and she wanted to laugh because Kira was distracted, licking the sauce off her fingers.

“Dios Mio,” Lucas groaned in the background. “I need to use the restroom.”

“Don’t even think about it. You go home and do that shit.”

“I didn’t say I-” he paused. “Okay, maybe, but come on!”

Kira stopped, cocking an eyebrow. “You need a hand for this problem?”

“I wasn’t… I mean…” He glanced between as if unsure what to say. “Yes?”

“Stop confusing him. He’s delicate.”

“The fuck?” As if realizing they were messing with him, Lucas flicked his cigarette and slid off the table. “I don’t need this shit.” He tugged at his jeans before he readjusted his jacket. “Acting like the hyenas off Lion King right now. I need a beer.”

“We’re just kidding!” Ava laughed at his retreating figure.

“Whatever, Scar!”

“You should apologize.” Finished with the rib, Kira threw it into the barrel beside them meant for trash. “His feelings are hurt, and he is walking funny.”

“No, thanks, I’ve got a man. Besides, you’re the one that talked about pussy.”

“Whoa, what did I miss?” Another woman showing a close resemblance to Ava came to a stop in their circle. She flashed a warm smile at Isabella. “I’m Becka, Ava’s sister. Glad you could join us. There are drinks inside and plenty of food. I think Hunter is by the boxing ring out back if you wanted to talk to him.”

Kira perked up at that second. “I wish to use this ring.”

“Feeling lucky?”

The Russian focused on Becka. “With you, always.”

“On second thought, I think I will go get a drink,” Isabella muttered.

Neither paid any attention to her as she ventured toward the clubhouse, Viktor trailing behind her. After a quick instruction in Russian, the man came to a stop outside the side door, turning his back to the wall while she disappeared inside.

Suppressing a smile, Ava’s gaze darted between the two women regarding each other.

“You honestly think you can take me?” Becka grinned.

“I know I can take you, and I think you will enjoy it.”

“Well, if you two are going to duke it out, you better get in line,” Ava chuckled. “Last time I checked, there were several people waiting. Ambrose and Eddie are in there now.”

Kira perked up at the mere mention of the blonde biker. She glanced between them with an interested gaze. “Is he shirtless?”

“Guess there’s only one way to find out.”