The Billionaire From Philly

He’d acted on impulse, telling her to come with him, and as he followed the alley towards the street, removed from the action, Victor took out his phone to call his driver. “Alan,” he said when the call connected. “I need you to pick me and a friend up on the street. Give me a second to find out where we’re coming out.” He looked at the woman again, realizing that he hadn’t even asked her name. She was just as beautiful in the orange light in the alley as she’d been in the club, and he thought she would be as beautiful anywhere at all.

“I think we’re coming out on Moravian,” the woman said quietly. Victor looked around as they came to the end of the alley and tried to find something that would let him determine if she was right. She cleared her throat and directed his attention to her phone, which she’d taken out. She held it up, and he saw that she had the GPS app going—and that they were, indeed, coming out on Moravian Street. How the Sokolovs had managed that with the club squarely situated on Sansom Street, he wasn’t sure—but it was good to be far enough removed from the raid that he couldn’t be connected with it.

“Anywhere you want to go for the drink in particular?” Victor had already gotten the impression that the woman with him was wary of his intentions—but he could, he hoped, remedy that pretty quickly. Someone that beautiful would have learned to be wary pretty young—lots of men would have bad intentions for her. His only intention in that moment was to get her away from the chaos, and maybe have a conversation with her. Beyond that he only had vague hopes, and then only if things worked out during the conversation. Victor smiled, he hoped coming across as friendly rather than creepy.

“All the places I know are just starting to get loud this time of night,” the woman told him.

“I know a place that isn’t too far from here,” Victor told her. “If you’re looking for quiet, it should be pretty calm there.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said. Victor went back to the call he was on with his driver and told Alan that they were on Moravian, around the corner from Vagabond.

“I can be there in about ten minutes,” Alan told him. Victor thanked the man and put his phone away, turning his attention back onto the woman he’d helped.

“We should probably at least know each other’s names,” Victor pointed out. “I’m Victor Andersson.”

“Danielle Price,” the woman replied. “Andersson doesn’t sound very Russian.” Victor raised an eyebrow.

“Why would it?” Danielle crossed her arms over her chest.

“You’re the one who asked me if I was involved in business back there,” she pointed out. “So, I’m assuming you know that your buds in the VIP room are part of a family—the Sokolovs.”

“I do,” Victor said cautiously.

“I’m not affiliated with anyone, but I know about the families,” Danielle said.

“And you figured I’m a member of the Sokolov family?” Victor raised his eyebrows just slightly higher. Danielle shrugged.

“I mean, birds of a feather and all that,” she pointed out. Victor laughed.

“So how do you know about the families if you aren’t affiliated?” Danielle glanced back up the alleyway they’d traversed.

“My brother’s in,” she said. Victor nodded; he could understand that situation.

Alan drove up to the curb at that point, and Victor opened the back door to the modified Lincoln town car gesturing for Danielle to precede him into it.

“So, if you’re not in the family, who the hell are you?” she asked. Victor laughed, grateful that Alan was separated from them by a divider.

“Just someone they know,” Victor said dismissively. Of course, that was not—strictly speaking—true. The Sokolov family had been good to him, and even if he wasn’t affiliated with them directly, he still owed them some respect and a certain amount of politeness. If they wanted to speak to him about legitimate business—and some people in the family did participate in legitimate business—he would hear them out and make an informed decision.

He tapped the divider and Alan rolled it down. “Take us to 1925 Lounge,” he told his driver. Alan nodded and confirmed he understood and started off in that direction. Victor glanced at Danielle, whose eyes were a little wider in her face.

“That place is pretty pricey,” she pointed out. Victor chuckled.

“I can afford it,” he said easily.

“I guess you can,” Danielle said agreeably. Victor chuckled.

“It’s just that I’m pretty sure things will be reasonably quiet there,” he explained. “And it’s a good place to sit comfortably and have a drink and wind down for the night.”

“I don’t even know what I would order in a place like that,” Danielle said. Victor shrugged.

“If you trust me, I’ll order for you, if you tell me what you like.” Danielle smiled at him.

“If you’ll let me watch them make the drink, I’ll trust you to order for me,” she said. Victor smiled slowly.

“I am more than happy to prove to you that I have no interest in drugging you,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I just want to talk a bit, and then I’ll have Alan drop you off at your place.”

He settled in for the brief drive to the bar and thought about the discussion he’d been having with Nikolai before the raid had started. Nikolai wanted to diversify his business a little bit—and so far, the Sokolov family had done well by investing in Victor, so he was hoping that Victor would be interested in going in with him on a business venture.