Page 15 of Beautiful Trauma
“How?” I demanded.
“Kellan is an anomaly in the mafia world. He’s a handsome gentleman. He doesn’t like sullying his hands with dirty work, so he’s in charge of the Kavanaugh finances.”
“Are you absolutely sure he’s not gay?”
Dima chuckled. “No, he’s not. In fact, he’s known for putting women on a pedestal.”
Although I hated myself for it, I couldn’t help but be intrigued by Kellan Kavanaugh. It was hard fathoming that anyman in the mafia world treated women with such respect. I knew it wasn’t just because he was Irish because I’d been forced to seduce an Irish clansman in the past.
At what must’ve been my continued apprehension, Dima said, “You’ll be wired, and I’ll listen the whole time. If anything starts to go south, I’ll send someone in for you.”
His words were meant to soothe, but they didn’t. Instead, like a trapped animal, my body curved into itself under the prison of his and my father’s request.
After swallowing hard, I replied, “When do I go?"
CHAPTER THREE: MILA
As I stood in front of the lighted mirror on the Korolova private jet, a haunting stranger from the past stared back at me. Although physically I’d slipped seemingly easy enough back into the seduction disguise my father’s handlers had prepared for me, emotionally I was a wreck.
The woman before me was poured into a scrap of a blood red dress that clung provocatively to her breasts and hips before hitting mid thigh. She teetered uncertainly on come-fuck-me-heels much higher than her usual ones. Her usually blonde hair was carefully concealed under a brunette wig while her ice blue eyes were covered by brown contacts.
I was no longer Mila Korolova.
Instead, Mya Kimsey’s sex bomb exterior reflected back at me.
She was a Harvard coed out for a good time instead of a gangster’s daughter playing at being a private investigator.
A knock came at the door. “Hurry up, Mila. We’re landing in ten,” my brother Aleksander called. Father had sent him along with Dima to oversee my mission with Kellan Kavanaugh.
“I’ll be right out.”
After one final glance at the new me, I grabbed the sparkly designer clutch on the counter before heading to the door. When I stepped out of the jet’s bedroom, Dima and Aleskander’s attention shot to me.
Aleks gave a low whistle.“Is that really you, Mils?” he asked.
“Unfortunately,” I grumbled.
He slowly shook his head before grimacing at Dima. “This is so fucked up.”
Dima sighed. “I agree. But it’s a necessary evil to get the goods on Kavanaugh.”
“But how can we honestly send our sister out looking like that?” Aleks protested. At twenty, he was too young to remember the other times I’d been forced to seduce men at father’s request.
While Dima opened his mouth to argue, I furiously nodded my head. “If Kellan is truly as honorable as you say he is, then why the hell am I dressed as a hooker?”
“You have to dress the part,” Dima reasoned.
“The last time I checked I was supposed to be acoed, not ahooker.”
With a teasing wink, Aleks said, “Don’t run yourself down, Mils. You’re totally more of a high class escort than your average hooker.”
“Ass,” I muttered to which he chuckled.
Dima sighed. “Although I’m sure you did your research,Bandiais one of the most sought after night clubs in Boston andboasts a VIP clientele. Since we can’t use our names or status, we have to rely on you standing out to get you in the door.”
“And standing out equals being practically naked?”
Cocking his brows at me, he added, “Just how long has it been since you’ve gone clubbing?”
