The Debt: An Irish Mafia Romance (Downing Family Book 2) Read online

  “I do know it.” I gave her a pained look. “But she could do shit to me.”

  I thought about the club again, and the ‘lessons’ she’d given me, talking about me like my body was nothing more than a tool for somebody else to use.

  But Isabel didn’t know about that.

  Her face softened, and she reached over to cover my hand. “She won’t call the INS on you because I sat here bitching about her.”

  US Immigration and Nationalization Services could very well have me deported. After realizing that Nadia was involved in whatever the Castellanos were doing in their clubs, I’d felt like I had a target on my back.

  I hadn’t heard anything else from the Castellanos, and Isabel had told me just a few days after we got back that I didn’t need to worry about her brothers or father anymore. The debt had been handled. By Brooks, I had to assume.

  But that didn’t mean I breathed any easier around Nadia.

  One thing was certain, though. Isabel was right about the fact that the person in charge of the school was being a serious bitch. It was also true that she had been worse ever since Isabel and I had returned from Miami.

  “What’s wrong?” Isabel asked softly.

  I shifted my gaze away from her. I’d been trying to act like everything was normal since we’d come back, but nothing was normal for me. This big city that had so fascinated me when I first arrived here seemed too big now, too full of the unknown, of dangers I’d never even known existed.

  What was I going to do if word got out about my stripping in Miami?

  I’d only been forced to do it for a couple of days, but something like that could devastate my career before I’d even had a chance to get one off the ground.

  I tried to smile and wave the question away. “I’m fine,” I told Isabel.

  “Bullshit.” She leaned back in the chair and picked up a carrot, nipping a bite of the end as she watched me. “You haven’t been acting right since…”

  Her words trailed off, and we both avoided looking at each other.

  Since your brother abducted me and forced me to dance naked in front of leering men?

  I still hadn’t told her how involved Duardo and Marcos had been in what happened to me. I hadn’t told her how Marcos had hit me, or how Duardo had threatened to have people hold me down and rape me if I didn’t agree to work off the debt any other way.

  But after all that had happened, how could I act the same? I wasn’t the same girl who’d left New York the day before the wedding.

  I was older, colder, more afraid.

  Feeling her gaze on me, I finally looked back at her. “I’ve been thinking about going back to Moscow,” I told her softly.

  She gaped at me. “No!” Her hand shot out and closed around my wrist as if by that alone, she could keep me here. “Why would you even think about that?” she demanded.

  “Because…” I lifted a hand as I fumbled for the words, uncertain how to tell her that I just didn’t fit here. I couldn’t tell her the whole truth. I couldn’t tell her how much it bothered me to even be connected to people like the Castellanos. And yet she was my best friend.

  I didn’t believe she knew what was going on in the clubs her brothers and father owned. In a way, it even made sense. They treated Isabel like a pampered princess, and what pampered princess wanted to think her kingdom’s fortune had been made, at least partially, on the backs of women they exploited?

  I didn’t like the truth that had been exposed in my world over the past few weeks, and even thinking about the women back in those clubs, wondering how many of them were being exploited like I had been left me feeling dirty. I knew I couldn’t fix it. I was just a dancer, an immigrant here whose status depended solely on my good behavior and attendance in school.

  But I wanted to fix it.

  Too many of the faces I’d seen while being forced to dance at the club lingered with me. I couldn’t help but think that some of them had looked even younger than me, and I was barely old enough to be in there to begin with.

  “Because what?” Isabel pressed, linking our fingers and pressing our palms together.

  I looked at her, miserable.

  Something in her eyes flickered, and she tugged her hand away.

  “You’re still afraid my brothers are coming after you,” she said softly, tears brimming in her eyes.

  “I’m not…afraid of that, exactly,” I lied, looking away as a hot, bright blush climbed up my cheeks. “But I am afraid. All the time. I don’t sleep anymore. It’s starting to show in class.” I tried to smile and add some humor. “Chances are Burov is looking at me and wondering why she’d ever accepted me into the school.”

  “Don’t talk like that.” Isabel waved a hand. “You’re one of the best dancers she has now that Myla is gone.”

  I frowned at the mention of the tall, thin, dark-haired dancer who had previously been the principal in most of the productions put on by the Burov Academy.

  “Where did Myla go?” I asked, happy to have a change of subject. “Think she got accepted into another company?”

  “She told me she was going to Miami,” Isabel said, excitement lighting her eyes. “I think she got into the Miami City Ballet.”

  Widening my eyes, I leaned forward. “Really? Part of the corps?”

  “I don’t think so.” Isabel shook her head, a grin splitting her face. “I think she’s supposed to be one of the principals!”

  The principal dancer was the lead in a ballet production. Getting offered a role as the principal was a big deal. It was my dream.

  I covered my mouth with my hands and fought back a squeal of excitement. “That’s so wonderful.”

  “Just think,” Isabel said lightly. “That could be you. I know you’ve said you don’t stand a chance at getting into the American Ballet Theatre. While I think you’re wrong, there are some wonderful ballet companies here. Many more chances to become a principal here than if you go back to Moscow.”

  “That’s playing dirty,” I told her, shaking my head.

  “It’s also the truth.” She took my hand again. “I know what happened to you was rough. But it’s over now. You need to move on and find something amazing for yourself.”

  Move on. If only it was that easy.

  Sighing, I rubbed at my brow. “I wish I could do just that, Isabel. I’m just…”

  How did I explain how I felt to her when I couldn’t even be honest? Maybe, if she knew about the things her brothers had done, what they’d threatened to do to me, and maybe if she realized that our instructor was one of the people involved in forcing women to strip to pay off these so-called debts, she might understand why I was so uneasy being back here in the city.

  But I didn’t want to hurt her like that.

  Over the past two weeks, I’d tried to figure a way out of this, some way to find another place to live, another school, some way to start over. But I stayed because of Isabel.

  She’d mentioned to me just a few days ago that her dad was furious with her, and she would have to watch her step for a little while. Although she hadn’t outright told me I should do the same thing, I’d seen a glint in her eyes, a silent warning.

  Brooding, I reached for the bottle of water I’d brought with my lunch.

  “We should get back,” Isabel said as I recapped the bottle. She made a face, crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue. “We don’t want to give Madame Dragon more reasons to pick on you.”

  “True enough.”

  On the way back to the school, Isabel talked about the upcoming production, and I nodded, listening half-heartedly.

  As I brushed my hair back from my face, a familiar form caught my eye. I almost didn’t bother looking. I’d gotten used to seeing Brooks everywhere I went—not that it was ever him. Just a tall man with a similar shade of hair, or somebody moving with that lithe natural grace he possessed.

  But I couldn’t help myself.

  I turned my head to look.

  And my jaw dropp
ed open.

  It was Brooks.

  Isabel saw the look on my face and followed my gaze. I know she said something, but I only heard her voice, not the words.

  I was in too much shock.

  Brooks was here…here in New York.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Brooks

  The trip from Philadelphia to Penn Station left me with way too much time to think.

  Normally, I’d have plenty of business to keep me busy on the train, and in all honesty, I did have work to do.

  My father had called me a few days ago and told me he needed me back in Philadelphia to help him handle some matters.

  One of them involved going to see one of our business contacts—suppliers—in New York and figure out why we were having some inventory problems.

  If Dad knew what the thought of going to the city did to me, he probably would have made Declan handle the matter.

  New York City.

  Daria.

  I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, even though it had been two weeks since she’d left so abruptly.

  When I’d first boarded the plane to return to Philadelphia, I’d told myself that I’d be there a few days before I’d have to return to Miami. Until our interests in the new territory were secured, Dad needed a man on the ground running our operations. Sean, while he was supposed to be in charge, lacked the experience needed to establish things.

  I didn’t like being in Miami, but it was easier right now.

  Being in Philadelphia put me too close to Daria.

  All it took was an hour and a half long train ride, and I could be in the Big Apple. A short cab ride, and I could be at the school.

  I could talk to her. See her.

  Ask her why in the hell she’d taken off like that.

  None of these facts made it any easier to focus on the job at hand. Considering the people I had to talk to over the next couple of days, I needed to be able to focus.

  Focus…something I couldn’t do very easily when I was thinking about her.

  But it wasn’t all that easy to banish her from my thoughts, either.

  I’d figured I’d be in the city for a few days and had planned for such.

  The first day was crazy busy, but I still managed to get more done than I’d expected. That gave me some free time on my hands after I finished up my scheduled breakfast meeting on day two. With a break in the weather, I decided to take a stroll.

  I didn’t intentionally wind up by the school.

  At least, I didn’t do it consciously.

  But that was where I found myself.

  The aging building that housed the school had clearly been renovated sometime in recent years.

  I loitered outside for several minutes as I debated with myself on what I was about to do.

  Sean had pissed me off when he told me it was a good thing she’d left, that I shouldn’t get involve with her any more than I already had. But as pissed as I was, I’d come to realize that maybe he was right.

  Daria deserved a life outside all this shit.

  She deserved better than what I’d be able to offer her, considering my family history. I knew she was appalled by the truths she’d learned, about the Castellanos, about my family. I’d seen it in her eyes, and if I was smart, I’d turn on my heel and just walk away from here.

  Knowing that I wasn’t the right kind of guy for her didn’t do anything to make me stop thinking about her.

  And now, she could be just a few minutes away from me, inside that red brick building.

  Would she be dancing right now?

  I thought about the way I’d seen her moving in the studio at the Castellanos estate. I wanted to see her dance again—dance for me. And not like she’d been dancing at the strip club the night this whole mess started.

  Turn around, I told myself. Leave.

  But I didn’t.

  Slowly, feeling like an automaton, I moved toward the door and let myself inside.

  It was quiet.

  I checked my watch and saw that it was nearly noon. Maybe people were out to lunch. The small reception area just inside the door had the only sign of life. I smiled at the older woman sitting behind the desk. She discreetly moved her sandwich behind a pile of files when she saw me.

  “Can I help you?”

  I didn’t have a chance to answer before a door to my right opened, and a tall, thin woman walked in. She had strong features that were set off by her knot of auburn hair. She would have been beautiful, but there was something about the unpleasant set of her features that kept me from making that final determination.

  “These were late,” the woman said, her voice heavily accented. She glared down her patrician nose at the woman behind the desk. “Perhaps if you spent more time doing your job rather than eating sandwiches, then perhaps we could avoid incidents such as this.”

  “Yes, Madame Burov,” the other woman said, her voice tight and small.

  Madame Burov turned to look at me.

  It hit me then. When I first heard the name Burov, I thought it was familiar, and while logically, I’d made the connection between the academy where Isabel was a student, I hadn’t made the second connection.

  We’d done some serious background digging on Basilio Castellanos when my father first started talking about this plan of his to unite the two families. Both Declan and I had done separate investigations, and both of the men we’d hired had provided pictures of the entire Castellanos clan, as well as detailed explanations of their likes, hobbies, interests, enemies. We’d also received itineraries that had gone back several months.

  More than once, Basilio had traveled to New York.

  And there had been pictures of these two together.

  Nadia Burov—Basilio’s suspected mistress—stood in front of me.

  “Burov,” I said, feigning curiosity. “Are you related to the owners of the school?”

  She looked me up and down. Something she saw made her features soften, and she took a step toward me. Her lips curved as she replied, “I am the owner. This is my school. Sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

  “Downing.”

  I saw a flicker in her eyes. She knew that name. I could tell.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Downing?” she asked softly.

  “I’m looking for one or two of your students. They’re friends of the family,” I said.

  She gestured for me to follow her and we made our way down the hall to a brightly lit studio.

  “Are you looking for Isabel?” she asked.

  “She is one of the students I’m trying to find,” I admitted. “The other is Daria.”

  A tight smile came and went, and Nadia nodded. “My dancers are not in the school at this time. It’s their lunch break.” She heaved a dramatic sigh. “These girls, they are soft. When I was in school, we didn’t take time for lunch until we had performed our routines perfectly. But such is life now. All the young people expect to be coddled.”

  Getting to eat a meal was being coddled? I almost asked the question out loud but managed to keep it behind my teeth. I gave her a polite smile.

  “When do you think they’ll be back?”

  Nadia waved a dismissive hand. “With those two, who knows? Isabel is a capable dancer, but she is flighty. Daria is a bad influence on her.” There was a gleam in her eyes as she added, “Had she not returned from her trip to Miami, it wouldn’t have concerned me.”

  I didn’t say anything out loud, just made a small hmm of acknowledgment as I turned to study the walls.

  “She is an acceptable dancer. She has the talent to do things with her career, but she is undisciplined.”

  I cocked my head to the side, studying the woman closely. “If I understand it correctly, she had to beat out several other applicants in order to attend the school. She traveled from Russia to New York just to attend this school. That doesn’t sound like somebody who is undisciplined to me.”

  “There is discipline, Mr. Downing, and there is discip
line. A focus and love of ballet that transcends all other things.” She flicked a hand. “Perhaps she should have stayed with the club in Florida. It may have suited her better, both in style and in helping her attain her ultimate goal.”

  “Club,” I echoed slowly.

  “Yes.” She gave me a sharp-edged smile. “I know about her dancing at a strip club while she was down there. She missed several days of school, and I discover it’s because she’s been stripping.” She tsked under her breath. “I almost forced her out of my school then and there. But…” she looked away, affecting an expression of fake concern, “it is possible she’s had a hard life, and this one time, she let poor judgment interfere. I decided I would give her one last chance before she is kicked out of the school. My reputation is tied to the school’s, you see. I can only have dedicated dancers here.”

  “Of course.”

  I listened politely for a few more minutes as she talked about her grand career and ultimately the decision to open the academy. As soon as I had a chance, I decided to make my exit.

  “I’m trying to reach Daria or Isabel so they can pass a message to Sean for me,” I said.

  I paused a moment. I really had no desire to talk to Sean, but I’d already seen the speculation in her eyes and knew she was trying to piece together why I was here. I’d rather her not speculate. “Sean is Isabel’s husband…and my brother. I haven’t been able to get hold of him.”

  “Ahh…” She smiled serenely. “I thought the name Downing was familiar.” She smoothed a hand across her neatly arranged hair. “As I said earlier, none of my dancers are here just now. But I can tell Isabel you came by.”

  “Thank you.”

  I could feel the weight of her eyes drilling into my back as I left the studio. Once I was outside, I glanced up at the building and tried to wonder what it must be like to train under somebody as unpleasant as Nadia Burov.

  Now that I was away from her, I drew in a calming breath, reining in my temper. The woman was a bitch, possibly a petty, jealous bitch. I wasn’t going to let her get to me.

  I checked my watch and wondered if I might have time to wait for Daria, although the things I needed to say needed more than just a quick, Hi, how are you, why did you leave? conversation.