Page 2 of Dark Truths

It’s a sweet story. But not one I ever expect to achieve.

Jacob waits for me at my cubicle with an eager grin on his dark-skinned face. Digging out the candy from my pocket, I toss it his way. He catches it easily and makes a happy little sound before he unwraps it and pops it in his mouth.

“Those things will give you diabetes, you know,” I comment casually while I shrug my wool coat off and stow my bag. “You should just tell Susan I give mine to you.”

Jacob chuckles. “Where’s the fun in that? If I did, you wouldn’t get to see my handsome face every morning.”

“Now there’s an idea,” I tease as I slip the chain holding my badge over my neck. “Did you get the email from Ford this morning?”

“Reason number two why I’m here. Come on, he’s waiting in the conference room.”

Special Agent Ford leads the Washington branch of the FBI’s criminal investigative division. Young and new to the role, Ford is a boss with a need to prove something because he’s a “legacy” or whatever the fuck you call someone whose entire family works for the agency. He’s not my first boss, and he won’t be my last. Something I have to tell myself over and over every time he sends an annoyingly vague email at the ass crack of dawn on a Monday morning ordering a meeting first thing.

“Nice of you to join us, gentlemen,” Ford comments when Jacob and I walk into the conference room.

A glance around the large oval table tells me we’re not even the last to arrive, but if I tell him that, I’m likely to get the short stick of whatever this meeting is about.

Once the last bit of the team arrives, Ford clicks on the screen hanging on the wall and a remote.

The image of a large older man in a suit with dark hair and dark eyes appears.

“This is Sergei Mikailhov,” Ford announces. “He runs the Russian Bratva in Miami, and we have reason to believe Mr. Mikailhov is also part of an organization called the High Table.”

“The High Table?” Jacob repeats.

“Yes, we had a man on the inside, and that was all he could get us before he…” He looks uncomfortable, and it doesn’t take a genius to know this inside man is no longer with us. “Anyway, the director has tasked me with sending in someone new undercover who can continue to gather evidence on the Russians and the identities of the High Table members.”

I close my eyes and bow my head, already knowing where this is going. Jacob knows it too from the way he curses under his breath.

“Dimitri.” The way Ford says my name with just a little too much glee in his voice makes my teeth grind. “You’re Russian, right?”

I meet his eyes. “Da.”

He smiles like he’s won some kind of prize. Probably has. Because this is the kind of job that could make his career. Mine too. “Excellent. You leave in a week.”

So why does it feel like I’ve just signed my soul away to the devil?

Part 1

The Beginning

1

Gabriella

January

Ishouldn’t be here.

If my father and older brothers knew my whereabouts tonight, they would be furious. Hell, my mere presence in this place alone may even start a war. But I’m not a helpless little girl who needs to be protected anymore from the darker sides of the world. I am very much aware of the type of place I’m walking into and the truth doesn’t frighten me.

ThePlaygroundis a hidden underground club that caters to a certain debauchery lifestyle. With its alluring atmosphere and captivating decor, it beckons you to step inside and get lost in the immersive world designed to stimulate the senses and create a heightened atmosphere of pleasure and excitement.

I know I shouldn’t be here, but we’re celebrating tonight. My classmates have been begging to come here for months and my family’s connections to the crime world will not stop me from having a good time with my friends. With winter exams over, we’re free to let loose and have some damn fun–for a little while at least. Because medical school is not easy. It’s rewarding and fulfilling, yes, but also time consuming and often overwhelming. But do I regret a second of it? Absolutely not.

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve felt a strong desire to help people. Which is ironic, really, considering the business my family’s involved in—a world where disloyalty and dishonesty are met with severe punishment, or worse…death. Maybe that’s why, on some subconscious level, I chose a career focused on saving lives rather than ending them. Thankfully, my father has always respected my decision to pursue my own path instead of joining our family business. That didn’t prevent him from making sure I grew up learning the same skills my older twin brothers did. I can shoot a target dead center from eighty yards away, handle a knife like it’s a pen in my hands, and can hold my own in a fight. But for every violent skill I know, I know two skills that can save lives.?

After a grueling six years, the end is finally within sight. Summer marks the start of the last round of clinical rotations, followed by two semesters dedicated to preparing for final exams, and if everything goes according to plan, graduation will be summer of next year.

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