by SR Jones
I can’t breathe. The images of the things Popov would do to Cassie to make her sing for him are streaming through my mind.
“You can thank me later, fucker,” Damen says.
“Thank you,” I manage to get out.
“This doesn’t look good for a future working relationship, the lack of trust,” he says.
“Damen, I appreciate what you’ve told me today more than you can probably know or understand, and point taken.”
“Get rid of your hacker; he’s useless.”
He hangs up.
Get rid?
Oh, I won’t be getting rid. I can’t because that would leave Cassie hung out to dry, and I can’t do that to her. Not him, as Damen thinks, but her, the girl I paid who I should have damn well known couldn’t do this. I won’t leave her to get caught, not because I’m a good guy, but because I prefer this world with Cassie in it, luckily for her.
Not so luckily for her, it seems as if fate has once more thrown her to me. I tried to let her go. To have a purely professional relationship with her, but she lied to me. In doing so, she’s put both herself and me in danger, and that just won’t do.
Cassie is about to find out what happens to people who lie to me.
Cassie is about to find out what happens to a woman who piques my interest then puts herself in harm’s way.
Cassie is about to become a prisoner.
My prisoner.
PART TWO
War is the trade of kings.
John Dryden
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Konstantin
I stalk back into the courtyard, where I’m not surprised to find Vasily leaning against the wall still eye-fucking Zoey, who seems to be either unaware of him or studiously ignoring him.
“Denis,” I say, making the blond jump. “Go back to the house, but on the way go to the vault and pick up some essentials.” My voice is super low. Not that it matters if anyone does hear; essentials could mean anything. Only Denis knows it means weapons. “A good selection as we might be having guests.”
“Guests?” Vasily says. “That’s unexpected.”
“Yes it is, but these things happen. We simply have to be prepared to give our Russian cousins a very warm welcome.”
In a few words, that would mean nothing to anyone eavesdropping. You never know when the authorities might have eyes or ears on you. I’ve just let my men know trouble is headed our way, and it’s Bratva.
“Make sure the new staff are very aware of our guests and their particular needs,” I tell Denis.
“On it, boss.”
Yeah, he might not be the brightest, but Denis gets shit done. He’ll be back at my house within a couple of hours armed to the gills, and he’ll make sure the new security I’ve hired is on top of things too.
Derek might be in his early sixties now, but he knows how to handle himself in a fight and is a dab hand with a weapon or two.
What with the new hires, Derek, me, Denis, and Vasily, I’m not too concerned about any attack aimed at me on my property. It’s highly defended, fencing all around the perimeter that can be electrified if needs be. Add in security cameras everywhere, flood lights, and a few local police who are in my pocket and will arrest anyone within a few feet of my grounds without my permission, and I’m not too worried. Still, this is fucking Popeye we’re talking about, the nickname Popov goes by. He’s not subtle.
“Vasily, you stay with me, okay. I might need you.”
I don’t tell him he’s about to aid me in a kidnapping. He won’t give a shit anyway, so long as he doesn’t get into legal trouble, and if he does, I’ll get him right back out of it. The real power in a nation doesn’t rest with the head of state. No, it rests with departments such as the Foreign Office and other such places, along with high level civil servants, spooks, and the agencies they work for. I have enough of those in my pocket here to ensure neither me, or my men, come to any harm while we’re on British soil. Funnily enough, we’re in more danger in Mother Russia than we are here. There, the power is more centralized and more unpredictable.
As Denis ambles off to do my bidding, I take out my phone and place a call to an ex-police officer. “Hey, Winston.”
“Konstantin, you fucker. Not heard from you in ages.”
“Been busy. Listen, do you still know that guy who trains guard dogs?”
“I do it myself now, I work with him, training dogs for him. I’ve got quite a few dogs now trained up, and a few still going through the process.”
Winston was a canine police handler for many years. He’s one of the best, and if he’s involved then I trust these dogs more.
“You’ve got some ready now?”
“Yeah, but these aren’t guard dogs to be left outside all night and day, chained up.”
I bristle at the indication I’d do such a thing. I fucking love dogs. “I wouldn’t leave a dog chained outside,” I snap.
“No, I know you wouldn’t. You didn’t say it was for you, did you?”
Fair point.
“It is for me. I need a couple of close protection dogs. They’d be part of my family, but need to be capable of defense if needed. They’d be free to roam the gardens in the day, and at night, when we’re all indoors they’d be with us, with the family.”
“Got two beauties that would suit you, I think. Bella, a gorgeous sable girl, long coated, and Trixie, a black long coated GSD. Both highly trained, loyal, and seriously smart.”
“How does it work?” I ask him. I’m pretty sure I can’t simply rock up and pick the dogs up.
“I need to come to your house and do a handover. It normally takes two days.”
“Imminent threat, my friend, not sure I can do that.”
“Can’t cut it down too much. You need to bond with them. I have to see if you fit, if they respond to you, and that you know how to handle them. They’ve got great temperaments, but they are highly trained and in the wrong hands can become an out of control weapon.”
I pause to think. Cassie will be there at the house. She might panic and try to alert Winston to what’s going on with her.
“Best I can do is a full day, instead of two,” he says. “But you’ll need to come to me. Get here for six, and we won’t finish until around seven that night. Then we go to yours, and I make sure the environment is good for the dogs. If I’m happy, I leave them with you. Means a long day, and I won’t be out of your hair until about ten in the evening. But it’s the quickest handover I can do, and if we do it this way, I’ll want to come by two to three weeks after for a few hours, see how things are going and how the dogs are settling in, and then do a six month review, which will take about an afternoon.”
“That option.” I smile into the phone at his chuckle. “Except, you can’t come to me. So I’ll take a video of the house and grounds. Trust me, it’s perfect for dogs. And you can come by in a few weeks, see how they are then.”
There’s a pause. “Okay. I can fit you in this weekend. You come to me Saturday?”
That works as I can take Vasily with and leave Denis to guard Cassie and make sure no one gets to her, and she doesn’t try to get away.
“Saturday sounds perfect. I’ll be there at six sharp.”
“See you then, Konstantin.”
I hang up and turn to Vasily, switching back to Russian with ease.
“You’ve got a babysitting job coming up, a very important one.”
He throws a wistful glance at Zoey.
“Yeah, not her,” I snap.
“Pity, but okay. I’ll babysit whoever needs it.”
“You’re about to find out.” I turn and walk into the hallway of the office building. “You’re driving when we leave here.”
“What, me driving? Not like you to give up an iota of control.” He throws me his patented smirk to let me know he’s joking.
I remember something that the news about Cassie being a liar who betrayed my trust made me forget. I’ve got Liza at the house. I’m about to take Cassie
back to my house to keep her safe and rub her nose in my pregnant what? Liza is most definitely not my girlfriend. However, she might not take to another woman being there, and she is bitchy. Then again, she’ll only know that Cassie is an employee who is in danger and, knowing Liza, she’ll take one look at Cassie’s casual clothes and sneakers and think she’s no threat at all. So far as Liza and the world knows, my taste runs to what my father used to call Dolly Birds. Women glammed up to the nines, not natural bursts of sunshine like Cassie.
Plus, it kind of serves Cassie right to get her nose rubbed in things for a bit. She fucking lied to me, and in doing so placed both herself and me in danger. I hate being lied to, and I hate my trust being broken because I so rarely give it.
Before I go to Cassie’s office, I pop my head around the door of the room Margaret has requisitioned. Margaret knows I have some less legitimate businesses, so I simply say, “A situation has arisen with one of the other ventures. I need Cassie Evans to come home with me for a few days. She’s been working on something, and she can work better from my house. Can you cover for her if any one pokes around here asking where she is?”
“Of course,” she answers smoothly. “Any major issues I should know of?”
“Not at the moment.”
I don’t tell her anything except for truly need-to-know, which means she keeps plausible deniability and can keep working for me with a clear conscience.
I jog up the stairs to the third floor where I have Cassie holed up in her plush little kingdom. To think, for a short period of time I entertained idiotic ideas of her being something more than an employee. She fucked with the King, and she’s about to find out what happens to courtiers who lie and try to cheat me. I’ve paid her a lot of money to do this, and she hasn’t delivered.
When I open the door, with Vasily on my heels, her face flushes.
“Hi, Mr …. I mean, Konstantin. I should have your report ready in about two days.”
She’s nervous, and now I understand why. She knows, she damn well knows she’s not got the skill set for this. If she thinks I’m paying her now, she’s dead wrong. But she is going to tell me everything she’s found about Popov. And then she’s staying with me until it’s safe. After that? I don’t fucking know.
“You need to stay with me for a couple of days at my house,” I tell her, putting it straight out there.
She pales, coughs, then takes a deep breath, looks me right in the eyes and says. “No.”
“Sorry?” I ask.
“No. I can’t. No. Absolutely not. That’s totally inappropriate.”
“It’s not a request.”
“It’s wrong, I can’t.”
“This isn’t the nineteenth century,” I say with a smirk. “You’re not going to lose your virtue for spending a few nights at the boss’ house. I won’t touch you; don’t worry. I have a friend there already.” If I have to use Liza to get Cassie to come with me, then I will.
Her face pales more, and hurt blooms in her eyes. “You’re such a pig,” she seethes.
Vasily crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the wall, as if he’s settling in for the show.
“I might be a pig, but I’m not a liar, unlike some I might mention.”
She frowns. “I don’t know what you mean?”
“Oh? I can do it, Konstantin,” I mimic her. “I can get into his information, and he won’t know I’ve been there, Konstantin.”
If she was pale before she’s now ashen. In fact, she looks like she might pass out.
“I didn’t lie.”
“Then you overestimated yourself. Either way, this little job you did for me? You went and got busted, so unless you want to find yourself on the receiving end of the anger of a man who will leave no stone unturned in his quest to find out the truth, you’re coming with me.”
“Oh my God.” She sits down heavily. “Oh. Crap.”
“Listen to me.” I go to her and grab her chin, forcing her to look at me. “You’re in deep shit because you’ve angered two men you don’t want to upset. Now, me? I’m pissed, but Popov? He’s going to be homicidal. So you have a choice. You either come with me, don’t make a fucking moment’s fuss because I’m already right at the end of my tether with you, little miss sunshine. Or, you can go on home and wait for Popov to find you.”
I let go and step back, watching her.
“Are you still going to pay me?” she asks.
I stare at her, incredulous. “You never struck me as a gold digger, Cassie. No, I’m not paying you; you didn’t do your job.”
There’s a beat of silence, of nothingness, more than nothingness; it’s almost as if my words have sucked something out of her, a kind of anti-matter taking the very air between us.
She crumples. Right in front of me, she just caves. Her body slumps, her face collapses, and tears begin to pour from her eyes.
“What the fuck?” Vasily, the noble bastard, reaches into the pocket of his ripped jeans and takes out a monogrammed handkerchief, and doesn’t that just sum him up?
He hands it to Cassie. “It’s not that bad, surely.”
Vasily isn’t soft, but Cassie has him being all chivalrous and shit; it makes me pissed.
Why is she in such a state? I wonder if she’s in monetary trouble despite my digging showing nothing.
“I’ll pay you twenty-thousand for work done, which is more than you deserve,” I say grudgingly.
She’s sobbing now. This isn’t going how I had planned. Normally, women crying simply grates on me, but Cassie’s tears are making me distinctly uncomfortable. I need her to stop crying.
“It’s not enough,” she cries.
I take her arm, pulling her around to face me, but she smacks me away. “Don’t touch me! Don’t you fucking touch me, you bastard.”
Vasily grabs her other arm, trying to calm her down, I presume, but she whirls on him and hits him straight in the face with a folder she grabs, and then she makes a run for it. I watch in astonishment. Where does she think she’s going?
Vasily doesn’t hesitate. He grabs her and spins her around hard enough she falls over the desk, landing with a pained cry on the other side of it, her head centimeters from the window.
I don’t hesitate. I punch him on the jaw, sending him flying.
“Touch her like that again and you’re fired,” I snarl in Russian.
He stares at me, rubbing his jaw, glass-like eyes darkening with rage.
“Cassie?” I bend down to help her up. She’s got a red mark on her cheek, but she’ll be okay; physically, at least.
I right her and sit her on the desk, then I bend forward, my hands on my thighs, so my face is close to hers. I don’t touch her.
“Talk to me. Right now. No more games. Tell me what the fuck is going on. Do you owe money?”
I checked her out, clear credit score, but maybe she owes it to loan sharks or the type of people who don’t show up on any radar?
“No,” she says and cries some more. “I needed the money for my grandpa. He’s got a rare form of cancer, and there’s a treatment that while not a cure, buys time, sometimes years. It’s not available on the National Health Service as it’s new, and not guaranteed to work, but it’s his only chance. I was going to fund raise, but now… I don’t have time. I relied on this money.”
Shit, that’s why she did this. That’s why she lied. I hate lying. I’ve killed people for breaking my trust, maimed people for way less than this, but she did it for family—the only family she has left. I can’t judge her for that because I’d do the same. Or maybe, I won’t judge her because it’s Cassie. If she was a man, I’d break something to teach a hard lesson.
“How much?” I bite out.
“Around a hundred thousand, close enough, including the stay in a private hospital while it is administered.”
Her face falls again, and she presses her fists into her eyes. “Oh, I’m so stupid. So stupid. I can’t come with you, Konstantin. If Popov is as bad as you say, he
’ll go after my family if he can’t get to me, and my only family are Grandma and Grandpa.”
“Names,” I snap.
When she doesn’t answer me, I take her chin in my fingers again and give her face a shake. “Cassie, focus. What are their full names and their address?”
She begins to reel their names, address, and dates of birth off to me. She’s shaking, and her eyes are wide, pupils huge. Girl’s shocked to shit. This is my fault really, for bringing her into a world where she simply doesn’t fit. She wanted a walk on the wild side, and now she’s on the damn safari, and she can’t deal. Maybe this will be a good lesson for her? She needs to know her boundaries.
My mind wonders to the ways I could teach her boundaries, the ways I could help her learn her place in this world. Cassie needs someone because it is as clear as day that she doesn’t truly know what the hell she’s doing.
“Write down the name of the cancer, the drug, and anything else pertinent, and leave this to me. Pack up everything you’ve been using in here, all of it. Don’t leave a damn thing.”
“But … I can’t go with you, Konstantin. I have to be with them.”
“No, you don’t. You can’t. You won’t be safe, and you’ll place them in more danger.”
I take out my phone and decide to tentatively trust a person I wasn’t sure I should. I call Damen.
“Malaka, twice in one day.”
I huff out a dry laugh. “Listen, I need to ask a huge favor.”
“What?”
“Has Popov discovered he’s been hacked yet?”
“Don’t know, friend. I’m out of there. Too hot when someone goes leaving great big footprints all over the place.”
