When In Doubt Wear Red

PROLOGUE

Copyright © Little_Island_Dove, 2015

All Rights Reserved

Prologue:

THE WORDS THAT set the wheels in motion started with the most vulgar words he had heard that day.

"Well, you're fucked."

Detective Archer Lucarrelli looked up from his desk full of files to stair aimlessly into Mike Lowry's dark eyes, as he held that same obnoxious, dopey smile in place. Archer felt his annoyance peak to new heights, going from zero to two hundred in a millisecond.

Turning his head back down to his desk, returning to his documents before signing off a case with his signature. "What's that supposed to mean?" Archer mumbled, turning his attention back to the documents that required his upmost devotion at that exact moment

Lowry leaned a lean hip against the opening of Archer's cubical; still showing off that cocky smile; loving knowing something that Archer didn't. "Chief wants to talk to you." His voice cool but still husky and deep, as always.

This immediately had Archer's head flashing up, his hackles raised. "What for?" Archer fired, worry and vulnerability finding its way into his voice.

Lowry, loving the current situation, just smiled. "Have'ta find out for yourself." Before turning and letting out a low, gruff chuckle.

With that one move, Archer knew that Lowry had no clue what the Chief wanted to speak with Archer about. But that didn't prevent Archer's mind coming up with a thousand different reasons for why he would be called into the Chief's office.

Archer had never been one to worry, yet that was exactly what he was doing.

He really needed this job. If Chief fired him, he was fucked. Sure, he could live off his inheritance for the rest of his life and so could his future children, but that wasn't what he wanted.

Had he fucked up with a case? Not that he knew of.

Had he tampered with evidence? Most certainly not!

Used his power in the police to gain personal benefits? Well... If that included using it to get woman into his bed, then yes.

Whilst those thoughts ran rapid in his mind, he was already outsides the Chief's door. The eyes of his colleagues burnt the back of him.

"Come in." The deep, even tone asserted, as Archer took a gulp before opening the dated doors.

Chief Tony Brockton was a large man, with the I-am-a-cop-tash whose shirt was slightly stained purple in a couple of places due to his obsession with doughnuts.

It wasn't like he was a practically scary man, because he wasn't scary, God know, the only thing that should be afraid of Tony Brockton was the two dozen jelly doughnuts resting on his desks. It was the fact that he could fire him and think nothing about it.

His office was a lot larger than Archers, but then again so was a small storage locker. The walls were painted a pale yellow colour, which was in desperate need of a redo. The desk was large and managed to cover the Chief effectively, as he was pushing four hundred lbs. But looking around the most impressive piece of accessory was the Nevada flag that was placed fondly on the wall behind the Chief's head.

"Take a seat, Lucarrelli." The Chief instructed, harshly, pointing towards the empty seat facing his desk and directly at him.

Gingerly, Archer took the seat, feeling slightly more nervous with each movement of the clock hand.

"Do you know why I called you in here today, Lucarrelli?" He said, leaning back in his chair, the chair groaned with the pressure of his body.

Archer's face remained passive, yet still made an audible 'gulp' on cue. "No, sir. I don't."

"That's disappointing." Sighing, lightly. "I have a job for you."

This made Archer's face crack and emotion appeared. First, shock, then shock and after that shock, again.

He had been giving hints for months that he wanted something new and right now he couldn't believe that he had got it. Finally he might be able to get out of the in for a penny out for a penny cases and at last onto the new and important cases, which he had fantasised about since he decided he wanted to be a cop.

But deciding to keep his inner excitement restricted to the inside of his body, he merely just nodded.

"It requires you going under cover for an unlimited amount of time." That sounded right up his street. "

He had to suppress the smile that was threatening to unleash, but then again, it was slightly odd that Chief had offered him the job and not someone else, someone more experienced than someone who had been on the force for six months.

"What's the case?" Archer said, silently interacting to the case file on the Chiefs desk.

Just as silently, Chief pushed it towards him, his chair making groans and moans as he slid back into place.

There were multiple police files. About four in total, but the one that had Archer stopping was the female.

Her name was Veronika Olga Rossovskaya.

Rossovskaya, he remember that name but for the life of him he couldn't remember where from.

She was Russian born, but was brought right back to the States just two weeks after her birth.

She was a former international model by the age of seventeen, starting in New York before immigrating to Paris to further her career but ended up moving back to the states after one year, never to been heard from again until seven years later.

She had never been arrested before but that wasn't for the police's lack of trying, having started to charge her with drug distribution over a dozen times.

Finally daring a look at the picture of the woman with a less the creditable record, he was extremely surprised by her appearance. Of course he expected her to be gorgeous, after all she was a former model, but that still didn't prepare him for her.

The image was of her walking into a building, looking as much a business woman as a CEO with a black knee length skirt that contrasted well with a white blouse tucked into the skirt. Her figure was curvy and proportioned well, which did surprise him as he expected a stick thin girl with no breast what so ever, this wasn't what he saw though.

Her clothes may not have been the most flattering, they didn't hide the large breast that wore practically falling out of that blouse or full hips compared to that tiny waist that would feel so tiny in his hands... Fuck, he was attracted to her.

Archer could tell she was short from the inch of her heels, approximately six or seven inches, he could tell they were Louboutins from their trademark red heel. Plus it said in the file that she was about five foot three inches tall, which compared to his six foot four - five on a good day - height was tiny.

Her eyes were hidden by a pair of big, black sunglasses, her features were very sharp, which contrasted well against her icy pale skin, but the redness of her big, plump lips seemed to add some warmth to her cold but beautiful exterior. Yet, she was possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.

"Don't let her looks deceive you. She is nearly as cunning as her father, Valentin Rossovskaya." The Chief said, and as he did, Archer felt like a million light bulbs went off in his mind.

The Rossovskaya's the notorious drug family in Nevada and the US in general.

His family's former rivals in the drug game.

The very family who killed his girlfriend and love of his life, Nikki.

The family he hated and wanted revenge against the most...

Looking away from the picture, Archer stared into the Chiefs blue-grey eyes and said without thinking. "I'll do it."