NoWayOut Read online

  It wasn’t just a story for Tiffany Sinclair, bringing two of LA’s major drug lords to justice had become her mission. Only, what she uncovers puts her in danger of losing her heart as well as her life.

  Ramj Oloff (aka. Konstantin Malovich) wanted nothing more than to rush through the King’s latest assignment and get back to his training fields. However, some would be Arms dealers and a damsel in distress has him rethinking his priorities.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  About the Author

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which may be considered offensive to some readers. After Dark Press, LLC prints and e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which the purchase was made. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be retrieved by underaged persons.

  No Way Out

  Nia K. Foxx

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  After Dark Press, LLC

  Copyright ©2012 by Nia K. Foxx

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from After Dark Press, LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Printed in the Unites States of America

  Chapter One

  It could be worse; she surmised peeking over the narrow ledge to the expensive granite paved walk several feet below. From the adjacent window she could hear Enrique Cortez and Alexi “The Bull” Habalov in a heated discussion. It was their loud voices which first alerted her to their approach, and forced Tiffany to take the only escape route available out the third story window of Alexi’s Bel Air mansion.

  “I told you there was something fishy about the guy when you wanted to bring him on board,” Enrique practically yelled, his heavy Cuban accent reminding her of Ricky Ricardo. Yet, unlike Ricky this man was completely dangerous.

  “Now you want to insult my intelligence by telling me all of our recent bad luck is just coincidence? He’s got to be a Fed.”

  “You’re wrong; I’ve known him since before my immigration to this country. His connections extend to the highest levels of government back home which is why I wanted to cut him in on the action. He’s brought some major deals to the table and I know there’s more in our future. As for our unfortunate transactions lately I agree there must be a leak somewhere. Trust me I’ll find out who and deal with the problem swiftly.”

  A knot formed in Tiffany’s throat at the venom in her employer’s voice. She didn’t doubt he would make good on his threat. Her journalistic and survivalist instincts warred briefly before the potential threat to her safety won out. She’d suspected their recent illegal activities went far above the two men’s capabilities, but it wasn’t confirmed until that moment. If only they’d mentioned a name. A name would put an end to the dual life she’d led these past five months posing as one of The Bull’s housekeepers.

  It hadn’t been easy getting the job. Hell, the man had a more thorough background check than the Pentagon. Thankfully, she was prepared and had put all her ducks in a row by developing an iron clad cover as a down on her luck woman just looking to make her mother’s final days in an Alzheimer’s community as comfortable as possible. She knew the assignment would be a dangerous one, but had taken it on with all the enthusiasm of on investigative reporter committed to getting her story and exposing some dangerous criminals. Tiffany just prayed it wasn’t her obituary that would get her notoriety. The more she learned about Alexi’s activities the more on edge she was becoming about the potential danger or her assignment. She’d learned that drug trafficking and money laundering were but a few of his involvements and was certain illegal arms’ trafficking wasn’t a far reach.

  Escape, her brain urgently reminded her.

  She could only hope the surveillance device picked up on the men’s conversation from its haphazard placement between two books on a shelf. If luck were on her side she’d be out of The Bull’s house by the end of the week with enough information to topple his and Cortez’s entire empire. The men were a cancer on the city, and although she knew this wouldn’t stop the flow of drugs she hoped it would put some key players out of circulation. Most of the drugs peddled in Los Angeles could be linked back to one of the two mobsters. While the police and local officials chose to take the war on drugs to the streets by targeting corner pushers she knew only attacks at the sources would begin to make a difference. For every small time drug dealer locked away two more popped up in their place more ruthless than the last. Turf wars were a direct result of the newbies exerting dominance of their recently acquired territory.

  In the end junkies, their families, and innocent people caught in the crossfire of drug disputes were made to suffer. She’d seen enough lives destroyed in her day to be fed up and willing to do her part. Some might say it was a fruitless crusade, and they were probably right, but as her old grampy would say ‘if you weren’t part of the solution, etc, etc.’ The very idea of abandoning her efforts left an ache in her soul, but story or not things were just getting too heated for her to stick around much longer. She couldn’t help anyone if she were dead. Her last few updates to her editor resulted in the “bad luck” Enrique mentioned earlier and nearly ended in his premature arrest. As far as she was concerned it was the third and final accident. She purposefully missed her last check in with Steve for fear the bit of information she’d gathered on the shipment of drugs would land in the DEA’s hands, again. As much as she wanted to see Enrique behind bars she knew Alexi couldn’t be allowed to walk away. It had to be both of them. Once this assignment was all done Steve would have a lot explaining to do, the leaks to the Fed’s was no accident, of that she was certain.

  She took a deep breath. The short distance to the nearest patio seemed like a thousand mile trek across the narrow ledge. Tiffany hoped the landing was as sturdy as it looked. She pressed her backside firmly against the brick exterior. Fingers slipped between grooves of cold stones gripping them for dear life. She was less afraid of the fall, which would probably leave her with minor injuries, and far more concerned with being caught by one of Alexi’s guards. She did a mental headshake at the irony of her situation. Guests could be heard in the backyard enjoying one of her employers many weekend parties. While the evening’s festivities roared on in full swing several yards away she was in a rather precarious situation which could result in an unpleasant evening for her.

  Alexi was a walking mafia cliché. He believed in living the fast life to the fullest and his appetites were gluttonous to say the least, from his numerous cars to the string of girlfriends who didn’t seem to mind being one of many in his harem. Tiffany’s only relief was that no guests would be allowed on the eastern side of the mansion where Alexi’s private quarters were housed. The area was normally heavily patrolled, but with the extra bodies to keep an eye on she knew the watch wouldn’t be as concentrated. With all the people in his employ there were only a small number Alexi trusted to guard his estate and his life. His paranoia would be her salvation, yet she wasn’t foolish enough to allow herself t
o become too relaxed, expedience was of the utmost importance.

  Edging her petite five-foot five-inch frame along the side of the house Tiffany was grateful when she finally came in contact with the balcony of Alexi’s VIP guest room. For several seconds she listened for the sound of voices or movement before taking a chance to climb over the balcony’s railing.

  She exhaled deeply, sagging against the wall in relief. Just a few more inches and she could slip from the shadows, through the open doors, into the room. She’d wait there until the coast was clear even if it meant all night.

  “Quite an unorthodox mode of entry don’t you think?” The baritone voice greeted her before its owner stepped into view.

  Tiffany’s heart thudded with renewed fear laced adrenaline. She opened her mouth to speak but the words would not form. What could she say? She was busted. Her vocal cord were further impaired by the man who belonged to the deep tone. He was a veritable giant. Granted she just hit the “average” mark for a woman’s height but the man had to be over six foot three, and his shoulders seemed as broad as he was tall. Casually dressed in a black sports blazer and matching slacks he looked as if he’d stepped out of an issue of Gentleman’s Quarterly. She felt a modicum of relief at realizing he wasn’t one of Alexi’s henchmen.

  “You’re not exactly what I was expecting from Alexi tonight, but perhaps being in the US has broadened his appetites.”

  Tiffany blinked at his remark. What did he mean?

  It was obvious from his thickly laced English accent he and Alexi were country men. Funny how his accent was downright sexy where Alexi’s put her on edge. She wouldn’t call him handsome, not in the traditional sense of the word. His face looked too harsh. Silver, intelligent eyes were deep set beneath a furrowed brow. His nose was long but slightly crooked, as if it had been broken on more than one occasion. His lips held the promise of being full, but were strained in a taut line as he concentrated on her face while she sized him up. Straight, obsidian was the perfect length for a woman to rub her fingers through.

  “I think you have me mistaken for someone else. I’m Mr. Habalov’s housekeeper.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, and if you’ll excuse me I need to get back to the party and see to his other guests.” As far as lies went it should have been very believable. Her plans were quickly changing. Her narrow escape, Alexi and Enrique’s ominous conversation, Steve’s obvious betrayal and good old fashion common sense merged to formulate a consensus. There was no way she’d stay another night in the house, not now. She thought about the surveillance piece transmitting to the micro recorder in her first floor room. Normally any device she planted would be later retrieved as she went about her cleaning duties. Unfortunately there’d be no time for it. If they found the one device it wouldn’t matter because she’d be far gone by the time it was discovered. There was just one obstacle standing in her way, and what a formidable one he would be.

  “But you have yet to see to my extensive needs.”

  “As I said before, you have me mistaken for someone else. I’m certain whomever Mr. Habalov has appointed to you tonight will be up shortly.”

  “Then it seems I will need to turn her away.”

  “I think not mister.”

  A slow anger began to rise in Tiffany replacing her earlier fear. She knew what activities went on in Alexi’s private rooms, having been part of the cleanup grew assigned to deal with the aftermath. She mentally snorted her displeasure, there was no way she would play harlot for any man, and especially not an arrogant stranger. She wondered how long it would take him to seek Alexi out and lodge a complaint once she’d gone.

  “My name is Konstantin Jestkov, and you are?”

  Not a common name, yet oddly familiar.

  “Nunya, as in none of your business. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Tired of waiting for him to move Tiffany decided to take matters into her own hands as she attempted to brush past him.

  “Not so fast my little cat burglar. I have a definite need of your services this evening,” he whispered after pulling her into the circle of his arms. “And if I’m correct in my assumptions of who you are, you’re in need of mine.”

  In any other instance she would have laughed in the guy’s face before giving him a piece of her mind but at the moment flight was the instinct taking precedent.

  “I’m sure the gift Alexi has coming will more than suffice Mr. Jestkov,” Tiffany forced herself to hold on to her anger as she tried to jerk free. His hold was unbreakable.

  “Listen my dear, I don’t have time to explain any of this to you at present, in a few minutes one of Alexi’s playmates will come through the door in there and my dear friend, being the voyeur that he is, will begin his hidden camera. Now, I have no desire to consort with one of his concubines and I’m fairly certain you would rather not explain how you came to be on this balcony so I suggest we move indoors and work together.”

  As if scripted, a knock summoned from the inner sanctum of the room.

  “Time for you to choose dorogaya moya, but you must do so quickly.”

  Another, more persistent tapping came this time.

  She nodded, even as her agreement slipped from her lips, in a whisper. As much as she hated to admit it the stranger had the upper hand. If she refused he could alert Alexi before she had the opportunity to make herself scarce.

  “Good. As you Americans say, follow my lead.”

  “Enter,” Konstantin called as they stepped into the room whose ambiance had definitely been set for seduction. A fire blazed from the lavish marble hearth in the candle lit room. In the air she caught a whiff of jasmine and something else she couldn’t place.

  Tiffany instantly recognized the woman who responded to the command. She was Alexi’s prized companion. A former model, she stood at nearly six feet tall with a thin boyish frame. Raven hair was swept up into a fashionable chignon, luminous blue eyes had been painted with gray eye shadow to achieve a sultry allure. Instead, the woman looked ridiculously like a raccoon. Collagen plumped lips were coated with a ruby red coloring and glossed. The corners of her mouth dipped disapprovingly as she glanced at Tiffany.

  The new arrivals eye’s narrowed when Konstantin pulled her into his arms. Her back pressed intimately against him as hard arms locked just underneath her breasts.

  “It seems Alexi has over estimated my prowess,” Konstantin commented.

  “I doubt it, but I believe there may have been a miscommunication in rooming assignments tonight.” The woman began, her voice held the barest hint of an accent. “If memory serves me correctly housekeeping quarters are on the first floor and to the rear of the house.”

  Seeing her opportunity for escape Tiffany eagerly jumped in, “You’re quite right. I’ll just leave the two of you to get familiar as planned.”

  “I think not my dear,” Konstantin’s arms tightened until she settled back against his frame. “Tell Alexi I’m grateful for his generosity, but there has been a change in plans this evening.”

  The woman looked as if she wanted to protest but thought better of it. She gave Tiffany a brief once over before huffing out of the room like a spoiled child.

  “Now that she’s gone my dear, why don’t we get properly acquainted?”

  “I’ll start with your name first,” he said dropping his arms as he ambled over to the built in bar.

  Grateful for the sudden freedom and distance Tiffany wasn’t certain whether to bolt or stay put.

  “Um, Tiffany,” she stood her ground. He’d said there was a camera. She wouldn’t doubt it having stumbled across some of Alexi’s homemade films in her search for evidence against him. The man was definitely a voyeur, she’d just never imagined she would hold a starring role in one of his feature films.

  “And a last name?”

  “St. James,” she answered with the ease of a person under deep cover.

  Konstantin nodded as he poured amber colored liquid into two snifters. He brought her a glass in silence seem
ing to wait for her to take a drink. She took a quick sip for courage and another for good measure. Tiffany found herself relishing the taste of the iced beverage as it coated her throat. She definitely needed something to still her nerves.

  He motioned for her to take an empty place on the love seat opposite the fireplace. She did so gratefully, crossing legs in the too little maids uniform she and the three other women on staff were required to wear. In preparation for her night’s prowling she’d opted for sensible black flats which allowed her full mobility, instead of the three inch death stilettos Alexi seemed to get a kick out of seeing them in.

  “I must lodge a complaint with my dear friend for keeping you under the radar on my last visits. Although I don’t blame him for wanting to hide a treasure like you.”

  “It’s not like that at all. Mr. Habalov is my employer, nothing more. Besides I doubt if I’m even his type,” she supplied if the man in question were truly watching.

  “You sound disappointed,” he took the empty space next to her, briefly signaling for her to stretch her legs across his lap

  Tiffany paused before easing her limbs across his thick thighs.

  “Not at all, besides I’m not into sharing my man.”

  “So you have one?” He took a slow drink of the liquor before setting the glass on an end table.

  “A man? Not at the present time.”

  “That’s good to know, I would hate to think I’m encroaching on another’s territory.”

  “I think the comparison only applies to land or possessions, of which I’m neither.”

  “For the moment.” He slipped one leather shoe off than the other and began a slow kneading of one foot. Tiffany couldn’t catch the groan of pleasure slipping from her lips. It had been a long while since she’d experienced a good foot massage, and as odd as the situation was she definitely enjoyed Konstantin’s strong fingers.