Taming the Tiger: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“Will you be attending the afterparty, boss?” Travis asked after the auction had concluded.

“No,” Roman replied flatly. “I’m heading to Ivan’s casino for a bit.” He had no interest in mingling with politicians and their ilk—useful when necessary, but always at arm's length.

“I’ll have the car ready out front,” Travis responded. Roman nodded and made his way to Margaret in the reception area for a polite farewell. His gaze flicked to her bodyguard, but he didn’t find wasn’t the person he was looking for.

Margaret’s face lit up the moment she spotted him. She hurried over, expressing her regret that he wouldn’t be staying for the party. Just his presence at her auction had already elevated the prestige of her brand.

After the brief exchange, Roman left the event. Outside, his car was already waiting, prepared by his men. At the same time, Kit and Rogan were also exiting the venue, heading toward the parking lot.

“Whose men are those?” Rogan muttered, eyeing a group of well-dressed bodyguards standing near a fully armored luxury vehicle—clearly belonging to someone powerful.

“Probably Roman’s,” Kit replied, earning a raised eyebrow from Rogan.

“How do you know?” Rogan questioned. After all, several influential figures had attended the event, and most had brought their own security details.

Kit smirked. “One of his guys is a client of mine.” He nodded in greeting toward one of Roman’s men, who had flown all the way to Geneva last week to get a tattoo from him. The bodyguard acknowledged Kit with a subtle nod in return.

"Picking up work here, bro?" Roman's guard asked.

"Yeah. Didn't see you inside with your boss though," Kit replied, his observant nature having noted the guard's absence during the event.

Roman emerged just then, spotting his guard chatting with Kit. The guard quickly resumed his duties while Kit and Rogan turned to leave for their car. That's when Kit noticed something suspicious—a motorcycle with two riders approaching Roman's vehicle. What caught Kit's attention next was the weapon they were drawing.

"Hey, Shek!" Kit called out to Roman's guard he'd just been talking to. Everyone turned to look as Kit nodded toward the approaching motorcycle. The riders weren't speeding—they were moving slowly to avoid attention, but Kit had already spotted them. 

Roman's men reacted instantly. Roman dashed to the side of a car for cover, with his trusted subordinate, Travis, following suit. The others drew their guns, forcing the person on the motorcycle to use the silencer-equipped gun they had prepared. They fired at Roman's bodyguards, forcing an opening to escape.

Roman’s men retaliated instantly, and their bullets struck the passenger on the motorcycle. Meanwhile, Kit and Rogan took cover behind a pillar in case any stray bullets came their way. Realizing their plan had failed, the motorcyclist quickly sped off.

Near the exit, people scrambled to get out of the way, their panic punctuated by frightened screams.

"You've got sharp eyes," Rogan remarked once the situation had settled.

"Just survival instinct," Kit shrugged. By now, Roman had been escorted into his car for safety. The entire event had happened and ended in mere moments, yet it didn’t faze him in the slightest—he had been through far worse.

"You know this Kit person?" Roman asked Shek, who was now in the driver's seat.

"Yes, sir. Got tattooed by him last week," Shek replied directly. Roman watched Kit's lean figure walking to his car, seemingly indifferent to what Roman's group might do next.

"Drive over to those two. I want to talk to them," Roman instructed. Shek pulled back into the front parking area, catching Kit and Rogan's attention as they were about to get into their car. The luxury vehicle blocked Rogan's car, and Shek lowered his window.

"My boss wants to have a word with you, Kit," Shek called out. 

Kit raised an eyebrow slightly as the rear window lowered. He walked over and casually rested his arm on the car's roof, leaning down to look inside. Rogan watched his friend in disbelief—Kit was acting as if the mafia boss was just another acquaintance. If it were Rogan, he'd be standing there nervously and try not to piss on his pants. 

Kit's relaxed demeanor drew a slight smirk from Roman, though Nathan, Roman's secretary sitting beside him, frowned slightly at this apparent lack of deference.

"I wanted to thank you for earlier," Roman’s deep, authoritative voice resonated.

His words surprised his men—Roman rarely thanked anyone personally.

Kit met Roman's intense gaze, which was studying him, particularly the tattoos on both his arms and neck. Kit furrowed his brow slightly at the scrutiny.

"No problem, sir. Your men would have handled it anyway—I just happened to have a quick tongue," Kit replied casually.

"What makes you so sure my men would have handled it?" Roman pressed.

"Those two are amateurs. If I were to guess, they're probably just trying to bother you." Kit said, causing Roman to raise an eyebrow slightly. He didn’t expect Kit to be this sharp, though Roman himself also thought that the earlier incident was just a simple nuisance.

"Why do you think they're amateurs?" Roman asked further, curious about Kit’s opinion.

"Well, if they really wanted to kill you, they’d probably have snipers positioned in that building over there, because it’s a perfect spot. Don’t you think so?" Kit pointed to a nearby building close to the event venue. Kit’s answer pleased Roman greatly, but he didn’t tell Kit that his own people were already scattered throughout those buildings to monitor the situation as well.

"Hmmm. What do you want in return?" Roman asked.

"Nothing. Right now, I just want to go back to sleep. Do you mind if I leave?" Kit responded.

"Go ahead," Roman replied.

"See you, Shek." Instead of saying goodbye to Roman, Kit said goodbye to Shek, and then walked towards Rogan’s car. Roman rolled up the car window and turned to look at Shek with a cold gaze, making Chek feel a little uneasy, unsure if he had done something wrong.

"Travis, investigate Kit for me," Roman spoke to his trusted associate as the car continued its journey toward Ivan’s casino.

"Boss, why do you want to know about that guy?" Nathan spoke up, as he didn’t really like Kit. Roman glanced at Nathan, sitting beside him.

"And why are you interested in my interests?" Roman's voice carried a threatening edge, making Nathan flinch.

"I-I'm sorry, boss," Nathan's voice dropped. Despite growing up together, he knew better than to cross lines with his employer. Roman fell silent, his thoughts dwelling on the man they'd just left.

***

"Kit, you've got nerves of steel acting so casual with a major mafia boss," Rogan remarked as they headed home.

"Why shouldn't I be casual? It's after hours, and he's not our client. He's just another person, isn't he?" Kit responded.

"Sure, he's human like us, but he's got power over everything. If he didn't like you, he could have you dumped in the ocean," Rogan warned.

"Man, you're too paranoid. They don't waste time on small fry like us," Kit replied dismissively, unaware that this particular 'small fry' had already caught the mafia boss's attention.

***

"He's Thai?" Roman sat in his office, reading through Kit's background that his men had gathered. Kit's history was straightforward—full Thai, raised by his Thai mother who divorced his father when Kit was 10, then remarried an ex-U.S. Marine before moving to Switzerland. He worked primarily as a tattoo artist with some side work as a bodyguard. Single, living a normal life.

"Boss, we need to leave for the port to meet Mr. Wang in 10 minutes," Travis reminded him.

"Our men are ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"What did you find out about that night?" Roman asked while standing, as Nathan helped him with his suit jacket.

"It was Marco's people, sir." 

Roman smirked. "As expected. All grown up but still acting like a child," He wasn't surprised their grandfather hadn't chosen Marco as the family's leader—the man lacked decisiveness and prudence.

"Would you like us to send a message back, boss?" Travis asked as they walked to the car for their weapons delivery.

"No need. He's not worth my attention," Roman replied. He saw no point in retaliating against Marco, Getting shot at might be serious for others, but to Roman, Marco's actions were merely childish.

Thud!

"Get up, pup!" A deep voice came from the strong, older man who had just thrown Kit to the grass.

"Dad, I wasn't ready," Kit complained as he stood up. His attacker was his stepfather. Kit was visiting his mother and stepfather in Grindelwald, a peaceful village in the valley.

"Would an enemy wait for you to get ready?" Michael, Kit's stepfather, challenged. Kit had learned all his self-defense arts from Michael and his friends. Kit loved and respected his stepfather as his own father, and Michael loved Kit like his own son.

"You two, stop fighting! Dinner's ready!" Kit's mother's cheerful voice called out, making both men head inside with smiles.

"Did you bring your tattoo equipment?" Michael asked during dinner.

"Of course, wouldn't forget," Kit replied, as his stepfather shared his passion for tattoos.

"Good. Owen wants to get one. Told him to wait for you," Michael mentioned his neighbor.

"Sure, he can come by tomorrow," Kit agreed.

"What's my commission? I found you a client after all," Michael teased. Kit rolled his eyes.

"You're richer than me and still want a cut?" Kit joked back. His stepfather chuckled while Kit's mother smiled at their banter. After dinner, father and son sat drinking in the backyard to talk.

"Heard you got mixed up with Vasilo," Michael said once they were alone. Kit raised an eyebrow.

"Vasillo? Who's that?" Kit asked. His stepfather's eyebrow twitched slightly.

"Roman Vasillo," Michael repeated.

"Roman…as in the mafia boss?" Kit asked casually.

"Yes."

"I'm not involved with him at all. We just happened to meet, and I happened to help him out. How do you know about this anyway? You’re having me followed?" Kit smiled, unbothered.

"Why would I follow you? FBI agents tracking Roman for potential human trafficking connections spotted you. They contacted me to warn you, that's all," Michael explained, relieved his stepson wasn't really involved.

"Nothing to worry about, Dad. Like I said, I just warned him about an attempted shooting." Kit answered honestly. Michael nodded.

"You know him then? What's he into that has the FBI watching him so closely?" Kit asked curiously, knowing his stepfather had connections in both the FBI and CIA.

"I don't know much. What I do know is that Roman Vasilo is considered dangerous. His legitimate businesses are cruise lines and international shipping, with various smaller operations run by his people. Behind that, he's a major arms dealer. They say he even has labs for testing new weapons," Michael spoke casually, as if telling a bedtime story.

"And that's you not knowing much?" Kit teased, earning a mock glare from his stepfather.

"It's basic intel we need to know," Michael retorted. Kit chuckled.

"If they know he's dealing arms, why not arrest him?" 

"I’m not sure either—why no one dares to mess with him, aside from continuously gathering intel," Michael answered.

"Then what made the FBI think he’s involved in human trafficking?" 

"They suspect that he might be using people for biological weapons experiments," 

Kit thought of Roman’s striking, almost godlike face and wondered if he really would do something like that. But then again, you never really know a person.

"Forget about him. By the way, Dad, does Owen want a tattoo or something?" Kit changed the subject, and Michael stopped discussing Roman, knowing that his adopted child wasn’t really involved with him (at least not right now).

***

Roman's muscular form, clad only in swim trunks, cut through the water of his private safehouse pool in America during the early evening. He'd flown back for business meetings, with his men positioned vigilantly around the premises. Despite the location's tight security, none of them slacked in their duties. Travis and Nathan sat by the poolside, waiting to discuss work but not rushing their boss who was unwinding with his swim—one of the few things that helped Roman relax from his many responsibilities.

Satisfied with his swim, Roman pulled himself out of the pool effortlessly. His body was perfectly proportioned with defined muscles, not overwhelmingly large but beautifully sculpted, complete with perfect abs flowing into a V-line. Combined with his chiseled face, and slicked-back wet hair, he looked like a Greek god. It was no wonder so many dreamed of being with him.

Taking a towel and robe from his attendant, Roman sat across from Travis and Nathan.

"Who's first?" he asked, knowing they had business to report.

"Me, sir," Nathan began, and they discussed important upcoming appointments.

"Prince Casey wants to see samples first?" Roman asked after hearing Travis's report.

"Yes, they want to meet at next month's party."

"On the Kraken?" Roman asked seriously. Travis confirmed—the Kraken was Roman's luxury cruise ship, available to celebrities and royalty. This time, a prince had chartered it for a party.

"Have we finalized the guest list?" Roman inquired. This party was more than just a social gathering—it was a front for underground business dealings.

"Yes, sir, though the prince might add more," Nathan showed Roman the list on his iPad. Roman reviewed it and nodded.

"Have our people vet everyone. I won't have trouble on my ship, understood?" Both men nodded firmly.

"Travis, quick question," Roman said after concluding business, surprising both men as he rarely sought their counsel.

"Sir?"

"If I wanted to add another bodyguard..."

"I'll have Norris select someone from the training center," Travis offered.

"No. I have someone in mind," Roman replied, making them exchange curious glances.

"Who, sir?"

"Kit." Both men froze slightly.

"The man whose background I investigated?" Travis asked for confirmation. Roman grunted affirmatively.

"Boss, I don't think we should bring in an outsider," Nathan objected.

"I agree with Nathan, sir. Plus, his stepfather has deep connections within the FBI and CIA. This could create complications," Travis added, having thoroughly vetted Kit's background.

"You know I have a taste for danger," Roman replied coolly, his mind already made up.

"Even if you want him as a bodyguard, sir, there's no guarantee he'll accept," Travis countered.

"Have Norris make contact. Tell him to name his price," Roman said as if it were the simplest thing in the world. After speaking, he stood up and walked toward the house to shower and change, leaving Travis and Nathan behind, deep in thought.

“Why is the boss so fixated on that guy? He’s just some guy,” Nathan muttered.

“Maybe the boss sees something special in him. Who knows?” Norris’ voice came from behind them as he walked into the room.

“You heard what the boss said, right?” Travis asked, looking at Norris.

Norris nodded.

“I’ll have someone book the flight tickets. Let’s get this done,” Travis replied seriously, though internally, he too wondered what it was about Kit that made his boss so interested.

***

The buzzing sound of the tattoo machine continued as usual in the tattoo shop, a familiar rhythm to the space. The shop's owner, Kit, returned to handle the customers after leaving his employees and another tattoo artist in charge while he was away.

“Kit, come out for a drink tonight?” A familiar female customer asked while he was working on a tattoo on her abdomen.

“Sorry, beautiful, I already have plans tonight. Raincheck?” Kit replied with a playful smile, winking at her teasingly.

“Who’s stealing you away from me tonight, huh?” she asked, pouting in mock annoyance.

“Well, there’s Miki, Dorothy, and Jaguar,” Kit replied, glancing behind him, which made the woman on the bed chuckle.

“Is that a list of customers?” she asked, laughing.

Kit chuckled along with her. “Yep, I had to reschedule them because of a freelance gig, so now I’m catching up on all the appointments I pushed back,” he said, explaining. “Looks like it’s going to be a long night.”

“Poor thing,” she said sympathetically. “Come on, let me cheer you up.” She wrapped her arm around Kit’s neck, and he leaned in to give her a playful kiss, not thinking much of it.

A knock interrupted them, and Bay, one of Kit's employees, poked his head in.

"Boss, someone's here to see you. Says it's important," Bay said. He was a Thai student Kit had met by chance and hired part-time.

"Who is it?" Kit asked in Thai, enjoying the chance to speak his native language.

"Don't know, but he's intimidating. Could you come check? Zest is with a client too," Bay replied anxiously.

"I'll be right back," Kit told his client, removing his gloves before heading out. In the shop's main area stood a tall, imposing man with a hardened face. Kit felt a flicker of recognition but couldn't place him. He studied the stranger carefully, trying to gauge his intentions.

"Who are you?" Kit asked directly, cutting to the chase.

"Name's Norris. I have a proposition for you," the man replied, studying Kit just as intently.

"What kind of proposition?"

"The boss wants to recruit you." Kit's brow furrowed slightly, noting how this giant of a man was being deliberately sparse with his words, forcing Kit to keep asking questions instead of just laying everything out.

"This is tiring. Let's talk in my office," Kit suggested.

"Boss, maybe we should stay here. More witnesses if anything happens," Bay whispered urgently in Thai.

"My gun's in the office. Don't worry," Kit replied in kind. Bay reluctantly nodded. Kit gestured for Norris to follow, which the man did without protest. Once inside, Kit settled into his chair.

"Have a seat," Kit offered casually. Norris found himself intrigued by Kit's demeanor—he showed no sign of intimidation despite Norris's imposing presence, the kind that usually made children cry.

"First off, I don't like beating around the bush. Who's this boss you're talking about, and what's the job?" Kit asked pointedly.

"You familiar with the Vasillo family?" Norris inquired. Kit paused momentarily, the question echoing his stepfather's recent words. It wasn't hard to guess who Norris's boss might be.

"You mean Roman Vasillo?" Kit asked for confirmation.

"Yes," Norris replied immediately.

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