Grace Unchained

10: Yasna Group

Yasna Group headquarters was a renovated Victorian brownstone in Boston's Back Bay neighborhood. There was no sign or any other indication that the building housed a business, though the fact that it was situated amongst other commercial properties concealed the comings and goings of its employees. The cover story that Darius had spent a significant amount of time and money preparing was that Yasna Group was a consulting agency involved in "luxury services," which he let on was a vague moniker for the brokering of extremely high-end luxury goods and personnel.

From what she'd gathered, Darius' M.O. was to operate so secretly, for the benefit of such a wealth client base, that the authorities would never even know Yasna existed, let alone be able to gather any useful evidence against him. Yasna's clients were the richest of the rich, the .01 percent. The people to whom the rules didn't apply. Moreover, he paid his employees very well—both over and under the table—and provided them with a slew of other perks and benefits that ensured loyalty. Or so he hoped.

Whether anyone had noticed that the "employees" entering and leaving the brownstone were comprised of a large number of abnormally attractive women, Grace didn't know. Knowing Darius, he already had an explanation all worked out. What? Oh, yes, they're all quite hot. In addition to our other services, we are a boutique modeling agency. She shook her head at it all. Darius was nothing if not clever, and a large part of his success in this business was due to his seemingly innate ability to talk his way into or out of any conceivable scenario.

It was past one in the afternoon when Grace climbed the stone steps leading up to the first floor and opened the front door, entering the vestibule. The inner door was secured by a passcard and a keypad. She fished the card out of her bag and tapped in her code. She waited for the loud click from inside the heavy door, then engaged the brass handle. The house all looked perfectly normal and historically accurate, but in truth it was riddled with modern conveniences and security measures like the front door.

Stepping into the lobby, she found herself face to face with Jessica, who was descending the main staircase with the grace of a leopard, despite five-inch stiletto heels. In addition to handling scheduling, Jessica seemed to function as some kind of executive officer to Darius. Any communication with him usually went through her—at least, if the employee was the one to initiate it.

She stopped two steps from the lobby floor and looked at Grace for a long moment.

"Where have you been?" she asked, stepping down more slowly. Jessica was older than Grace by a good ten years. She looked around thirty-five, but Grace suspected she might be closer to forty-five. She seemed to possess an inordinate level of influence over Darius, who was far from easily influenced. Darius was impressive and ambitious—arrogant, even—but occasionally the fact that he was still in his mid-20s came through. Jessica had an air of patient superiority about her that could only have come from age and experience. Couple that with a certain amoral business sense and a willingness to settle for second in command, and you had a skillset that Grace imagined would prove incredibly useful to a budding vice lord like Darius.

Grace raised an eyebrow. "You know where I've been," she responded. "With my last client."

Jessica raised both of her own eyebrows in a mixture of surprise and amusement. "Maybe you should check your messages."

The import of her comment hitting home, Grace swore and dug her phone out of her bag. She'd completely forgotten about it. She hadn't even checked it since before leaving for dinner the night before. Tapping the home button on the cheap burner phone, she brought up the main screen and saw to her dismay that she had several text messages and a voicemail from Darius. Thumbing through her text history, she felt a sense of dread overwhelm her.