Three years had passed since he had last seen her face, maybe longer.
Yet even as her hair was a shade longer and her appearance had certainly changed in that time, he could still see the shade of the girl she had once been. Even now, he could still remember the way she’d darted past him in her old home, unaware of what he would do to her in a short while.
But the joy he’d seen in her then certainly wasn’t present now.
She’d aged in more ways than he probably knew.
Silently, she walked over and picked up the crystal tumblers before carrying them back over to Lawrence, awaiting further instruction.
Uilleam bristled at the idea.
This … wasn’t what he intended.
It wasn’t what she’d deserved.
And for once, Karina wouldn’t have had to tell him that this was wrong—that he should do something about it because he could.
And he would.
“Fix the man a drink,” the man ordered with a flick of his wrist.
He didn’t see the way Luna flinched at the move, but Uilleam did.
She poured two fingers of bourbon and dutifully carried it over to him, momentarily meeting his gaze as she crossed the floor.
There was no mistaking it.
It was her.
“What’s your name?” he asked once she passed the drink to him, the heavy ring on his finger clinking against the glass.
She looked hesitant a moment. “Luna.”
“Your entire name,” he said carefully, needing to be sure, “if you would.”
For a moment, she glanced back at Lawrence as if asking for permission before facing him once more. “Luna Aristoria Santiago.”
This was his chance, he realized.
He might not have been able to save Karina in time before she suffered a fate she hadn’t deserved, but he could certainly save this girl.
She deserved better than what she had gotten, from him as well, and it only seemed right that he be able to fix his mistakes.
“Uilleam,” he said after a moment, giving her something he hadn’t offered another in years, “but most call me the Kingmaker.”
Lawrence coughed, making Uilleam lean away from Luna. The next few minutes were going to be precarious, and he had to be careful with what he did next lest he tip his hand.
“Kneel,” he told her, almost admiring the look that came over her face.
He didn’t know how long she had been here, but she hadn’t been broken completely. There was still some fire in her spirit.
“Did you not hear what he said?” Lawrence asked, the threat in his voice clear.
Do as you’re told, he all but said.
“Crawl to me,” Uilleam said next, watching the color deepen in her cheeks, but she didn’t have to be told twice before she dropped down and moved the short distance to the spot beside his legs.
He could see the resigned look in her eyes, as if she thought him no better than the others that had come here before him, but as he leaned forward under the pretense of brushing her hair behind her ear, he whispered in Spanish, “Play your part, and you may leave this place tonight.” Now, he turned his attention to Lawrence. “Where have you been hiding this one?”
“She’s special,” Lawrence said readily with far too much pride in his voice. As if her existence was a compliment to himself.
Uilleam checked the frown before it could form on his face. “Of that, I have no doubt.”
“Business, let’s discuss.”
“I’m not sure what’s left to discuss,” Uilleam returned, resting his hand on Luna’s shoulder. He needed her steady and still. “It’s already done.”
“But when—”
“Very soon, but that matter isn’t of importance at the moment. Your payment for services rendered has come due, and I’m here to collect.”
That once easy smile had dwindled to a mulish line. “We agreed to after the job, not before.”
“Considering the circumstances, I thought it best to collect now.”
“Why? Do you think I’m going to lose it all once my father is dead?” Lawrence asked snidely, a touch of his childish temper flaring.
Since he asked … “Well, yes.”
Lawrence didn’t like that answer—that much was written all over his face. “This is not your place, Kingmaker. You play by my rules.”
“Your father’s rules, you mean,” Uilleam corrected, his tone never changing. “You’re not at the top just yet, Lawrence. So is it you who intends to check me?”
He didn’t bother hiding the challenge in his voice.
He practically dared the man to react.
But he was smarter than that. He had to be, considering he was planning a rather hostile takeover of the family business since he had hired Uilleam to take out his father.
“Not at all,” he said with a shake of his head. “Your payment, yes. Cash or wire—”
“I know with some certainty that you don’t have one-point-five million here in cash, Lawrence.” He had a certain hacker to thank for that information. “Are you attempting to annoy me?”
“Perhaps, I can offer you something else,” Lawrence said quickly, glancing down at Luna. “For an extension, of course. If you would like for her the next hour—”
Uilleam made a humming sound in the back of his throat, pretending to think that over. “Or indefinitely.”
Luna tensed where she kneeled beneath his hand, and even Lawrence looked taken off guard.
“I’m not quite sure I understand.”
“I’m willing to forgive some of your debt should you give her to me,” he answered, slowing his speech as if he were talking to a child. “I’m not sure what’s left that you don’t understand.”
Lawrence forced a laugh, trying to mask his discomfort. “There are plenty of girls here, should you want one, but they’re for rent. What kind of businessman would I be if I sold off my best stock?”
“A smart one, if you were to name your price. Or have you forgotten the reason I’m here in the first place? Besides, after that unfortunate incident with the hacksaw, you’re not really in a place to argue, no?”
Because this wasn’t the first time he had called on Uilleam’s services.
The last time had ended very differently, however, considering he’d shown up to a dead body and a fountain of blood to clean up and make disappear.
“That has nothing to do with this,” Lawrence said.
“There is also the small detail that the contractor I have doesn’t peddle in minors,” Uilleam lied without hesitating, “and before you say a word, it is quite obvious this girl is underage.”
“Fake documents can be made,” Lawrence suggested grudgingly.
“And should we run her DNA, would it be found in any database? Missing persons, perhaps?”
He needed the man to know that he knew, even if he had no intention of providing details. It added to the lore anyway.
“It looks to me, Lawrence, as if I’m doing you a favor. Because please understand, she is your problem, yet I’m offering to pay to fix it—a far better deal than I usually offer.”
The vein in Lawrence’s forehead popped out as he ground his teeth. Luna had become his property in his mind, and Uilleam was interfering with that. “Pick another—”
“I’ll have her if it’s all the same to you.”
“Seven fifty,” Lawrence countered.
They weren’t bartering.
“Your father will die this evening,” Uilleam said with a glance down at his watch. “Would you like to join him in hell? Continue to waste my time, and I’ll have someone put a bullet in your head.”
“Considering her … age,” Lawrence muttered grudgingly, “I can go no lower than five hundred thousand. She would earn—”
“It’s quite time for you to stop speaking,” Uilleam cut in before he could finish. “I’m tired of hearing your voice. That’s acceptable. Now, for the rest.”
Lawrence was red in the face as he r
eached into his pocket and pulled out his mobile, making quick work of the transfer. Not even a minute later, he was showing Uilleam the screen.
“We’re done here.”
It was the only warning he gave before gunshots sounded and glass splintered.
Uilleam stood and pulled a quivering Luna up beside him. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Lawrence. Let’s hope we never cross paths again.”
But the man was too busy cowering for cover to hear him.
Keeping his hand wrapped around Luna’s arm, he marched her along beside him.
Chaos erupted around him, people running for their lives, ducking for cover, and using others as human shields, but Uilleam was the calmest he had been in a long time.
The sign he’d been looking for …
He found it.
For as long as he could remember, Uilleam had always found meaning in happenstance. When he could reason in the trial, it made predicting the moves of others easier.
Yet he hadn’t predicted this, and it had less to do with the girl sleeping across from him in the car, her features softening in her sleep and more the fact she was there at all.
After all, she was supposed to be dead.
Burned to a crisp in a fire that had plagued him with regret for weeks after. Even now, he still remembered that call and all the details revealed in the days following.
Kit, himself, had even called to relay the message. At the time, he hadn’t considered the man’s disinterest to mean anything.
Now … he wasn’t so sure.
Especially considering in the days that came before it, he had asked his brother for a very particular favor.
But he would have his answers soon enough.
Digging out his mobile, he scrolled through the few contacts he actually had saved in the device until he found his brother’s name and called.
Two rings later, his assistant, Aidra, answered the call. “He’s a bit caught up at the moment.”
“Whenever he’s finished, could you be a dear and tell him I’m requesting a meeting?”
“Should I tell him what about?” she asked, that hint of amusement still present in her voice.
“Tell him I’ve visited Lawrence Kendall’s estate and bought an asset.”
He’d know exactly what that meant.
10
A Man Named Z
It was far too bright when she opened her eyes as pale golden light bled into the room.
As she sat up, a little delirious, her hair falling over her shoulder like a curtain, Karina glanced around, taking in the barrenness of the room she was in.
Beyond the bed—a comfortable monstrosity set within the gold, iron frame—there was nothing that could help her understand where she was.
The clatter of something falling made her jolt, her gaze going over to the closed door. She waited, expecting to hear something more, but silence followed on its heels.
A part of her wanted to stay exactly where she was—in the safety of her solace—but she couldn’t shake the urge that told her to go out there.
Cool air kissed her thighs as she stood, her breath catching somewhere in the back of her throat as she walked out of the brightly lit room.
Out the corner window to her right was a view of the Eiffel Tower—an oddity, considering that particular structure was only in Paris.
She was in New York?
“Ah, you’re awake. We thought you were sleeping in.”
There would never come a day, she thought, where she wasn’t entranced by the sound of Uilleam’s voice. It made her feel as if electricity was sparking inside her veins.
But as she turned to face him, her heart stuttered in her chest because he wasn’t alone as he turned away from the kitchen counter.
A baby swaddled in a pink blanket was tucked into the crook of his arm. Karina couldn’t see the baby’s face from where she stood, but it didn’t stop the visceral reaction that fell over her at the sight of them together.
Uilleam was as beautiful as he’d always been, but something about seeing him with something so tiny and precious pulled at her heartstrings.
“What’s happening?” she asked, wondering why her voice sounded so heavy and slurred when she felt fine. “Whose baby is that?”
His brows drew together as he regarded her, looking as concerned about her as she felt at seeing him there.
“She’s ours, love.”
She’s ours.
Those words echoed in her ears—repeating themselves over and over again.
A reminder.
A curse.
For once, Karina was glad to find herself tucked away in her bedroom, the now familiar surroundings filtering in as she opened her eyes.
There was no Paris. No Uilleam in the kitchen waiting for her.
And there was certainly no precious baby girl.
For three weeks, she had managed to go without shedding a tear—a new record—but the weight of grief was too heavy to ignore this morning.
Not when she was dreaming of what could have been.
But that was nothing a shower and a thorough condition and comb of her hair couldn’t cure—a distraction was what she needed. She dressed in the first thing she could find—a white A-line tucked into the back corner of her closet—before heading out of her room.
As she turned the corner, she realized too late one of the girls was coming the opposite way and slammed right into her.
She was older than the others, Karina noticed—a few years younger than her, if she had to guess—but she seemed even younger with her short stature and blond pixie haircut.
Her eyes widened as she got a good look at Karina, clutching the journal she carried against her chest. “I’m so sorry, Kar—”
“Oh, you don’t need to apologize,” she said quickly. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
She’d been fully prepared to leave it at that and continue with her day before she inevitably forgot about the encounter later on, but something about the girl’s expression made her linger.
“What’s your name?”
“Kava,” she offered straight away. “Kava Islington.”
As far as she could remember, neither Katherine nor Isla had ever mentioned her, not even in passing, though she’d heard a number of names in the time she’d been gone. If she had to guess, Kava had come at some point after she’d left.
“Are you new?” she asked, though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer. The one thing she was curious about was what had caused a girl of her age to seek out a place like this? Where were her parents? Surely, if they had known what happened here, they would have never agreed for her to come.
“Six months,” she said, her voice quivering there at the end.
Karina might not have known what it was exactly, but she could certainly tell that something had happened—and that something was probably why she was here in the first place.
“Was it—”
“Karina?”
She glanced past Kava to where Isla appeared as she came up the stairs. Her gaze briefly flickered back and forth between the two of them before she focused on Karina. “Everyone’s waiting on you.”
“Right. I’ll be—”
“Sorry to keep you,” Kava muttered before she gave an awkward curtsy and sprinted off as fast as she could.
Isla was only reaching her side when Kava rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight. “When will you get over needing to scare the girls here?”
“Contrary to what you might think, dear sister, I actually like that one. It’s not my fault they’ve built a lore around me.”
“Have they?” Karina asked, amused, walking next to her as they headed back downstairs. “What does your lore say, exactly?”
Her smile was a little too mischievous. “They accuse me of corrupting the innocent. I like to think I just help them discover their true nature.”
“Is that what you like to call it?” Karina asked, genuinely curious. “I’m sure Mothe
r’s old assistant would disagree.”
Isla scoffed, waving that away. “The woman was repressed. I simply liberated her.”
If that was how she wanted to look at it.
But she was sure Janice would have vehemently disagreed, considering Isla’s stunt had cost the woman her job and nearly her life.
But that was a story for another day.
“Is Zoran here yet?”
“He says he’s about ten minutes out—could be less with the way he drives.”
“I don’t think you ever told me where you found him.”
Zoran didn’t seem like the sort of man who worked for a company that specialized in men like him. Something was a little too intense about him, making her think he was far more than what he seemed.
“Herbert. I’m sure I’ve mentioned him once or twice?”
With the way Karina had to scour her brain, she was pretty sure it had only been the once.
“Well, after Herbert’s unfortunate accident, Zoran agreed to come work for me.”
Karina could infer there was still very much she wasn’t telling her, but she knew how it ended for those who pushed Isla when she wasn’t ready.
It never ended well.
One day, though, when things settled, she’d ask again and finally get a straight answer.
Karina hadn’t given much thought to who Zoran’s contacts would be—or that they would actually be meeting them in person—but she certainly hadn’t expected to walk into the small café and venture into the back where a private room was only accessible through the walk-in refrigerator inside the kitchens.
The woman in the back waiting for them had a disassembled rifle laid out on a table, her gaze scanning over each piece, though Karina couldn’t say for sure what she was doing.
“Malaki, good to see you,” Zoran greeted her warmly.
She looked up, her smile wide and ready, at least until her gaze landed on Karina and Isla. That quickly, the smile faded before her head cocked to the side.
When she spoke, the lot of it went right over her head. Afrikaans had never been her strongest language, though Isla had been rather good at it. But as Zoran answered in kind, her sister didn’t speak or respond.
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