Kelly waved her off. “Don’t worry about it! I’ll come over. Damien and I will make sure to visit you guys. Or you could come visit us in France this summer. How does that sound?”
It sounded perfect, actually. For the first time Tasha seriously considered leaving. Everything Kelly had said made sense. She liked her job and was sure she was qualified to find a similar position in Europe. Plus, she didn’t have to just leave. She was big enough in the company to organize a transfer. It would be spontaneous, and the bosses won’t be too happy, but that was beside the point. Tasha could take care of that from the safety of European legislation.
She smiled, a tear of joy stuck in her eye.
*****
At the exact same moment, Luke wasn’t too happy. He was driving the Ferrari towards his office building, and he noticed an unmarked car had been trailing him since he’d exited Tasha’s brownstone. It was a new model, but not a Mercedes – a dark SUV, perfect for a mob enforcer. The car hung back, but made all the same turns as Luke, even though he made sure to take a nonsensical route, circling blocks and running a red light once. Still, the SUV followed, and when he parked – it parked a little ways behind him.
On his way, Luke made a call to the office, saying he would be there shortly. They were already there, waiting for him. They said all the papers were in order, and all that would be required of him were a dozen signatures in all the right places.
Simple enough. He expected to spend twenty minutes at the office, at most, and then rush back to Tasha. They would have enough time to pack some things and head out for JFK. They would even have plenty of time if he spent two hours signing the papers. It was a flawless plan.
He stepped out of the car and headed for the revolving doors. In the corner of his eye he saw someone step out of the SUV. The figure didn’t follow, not yet.
The lights were dimmed in the main hall, and only one guard remained at the desk this late hour of the day. He greeted Luke and let him through, wishing him a good night.
“Sure hope so,” Luke replied. If only the guard knew how close to home his words landed.
Luke took the elevator, getting into business mode. He was used to serious meetings such as this one, and even his informal clothing was not distracting to him. And dammit if it wasn’t the most important meeting in his whole life! Surprisingly, he discovered he had no problem with it. Getting rid of the company would be like shrugging off a mountain from his shoulders. He didn’t need it and he didn’t want it. Nothing good had come out of it, and even the money was of no use. Not to mention all the atrocities that had been committed by this firm, which meant that he had committed them, as well, if only by proxy. He couldn’t live like that, and he would give it up for free if it came to negotiations.
The elevator doors slid aside, welcoming him to the forty-seventh floor. Most lights were off, except for a few table lamps left behind by sloppy employees. That was fine – not his problem. Luke walked along the cubicles and stepped into the conference room.
The glass door closed behind him lightly, and Luke almost had a heart attack. There were no members of the board of directors around the table. Well, there was one in the room, but he stood in a dark corner, with a broad-shouldered man towering over him. The man at the table was the short one, Matheo Falcone, the one who had paid Luke a visit at his yacht.
“Sit,” the short man commanded. “Or I’ll ask Donny to help you out with that. Can’t promise you you’ll be able to stand up afterwards though, so the choice is yours.”
“Sorry, Luke,” the man in the corner said. His voice was tiny, miserable. “You shouldn’t have come.”
“Shut up!” Matheo barked.
Luke sat down at the table opposite the short man. He waited.
“We are disappointed, Luke. We thought you’d get the hint by now. Selling the firm? Stupid!”
In spite of the hopelessness of the situation, Luke’s mind raced, thinking of ways to escape. The gangsters wouldn’t think highly of that – they thought it was a rat’s mindset – but such was simply human nature. The first conclusion Luke arrived to was there’s no way out. Sure as day the guy who had driven the SUV was another one of Falcone’s goons, and by now he was probably somewhere on the forty-seventh floor, likely not too far from the conference room. If Luke tried to run he’s be met with a pistol-whip to the face, if he was lucky. If not… well, at least he wouldn’t remember the bullet entering his head.
He waited.
“Vincenzi gave you everything, Luke. You were like a son to him.”
“Only because he murdered my dad.”
Matheo’s eyes flashed. “Your father made a mistake. Like father like son, eh? If it were up to me you’d be on the bottom of the Hudson right beside him.” Luke clenched fists with anger. The mobster smiled. “But the boss likes you a lot, so he gives you one last chance. I suggest you play along.”
“Or else what?” He knew the answer, of course, but wanted to hear it. He wanted it to be tangible. “You know what? I don’t give a shit. Fuck you Theo, and fuck Vincenzi.”
“I will pass on your sentiments. Donny.”
The bodyguard stepped out of the shadow and produced a small gun from a shoulder holster. Luke saw it pointed at his head and closed his eyes. That was it – a tragic, pointless end.
A shot boomed in the room, and glass behind Luke shattered, showering him in tiny debris. Then another shot followed, and he opened his eyes. The giant staggered back as the shots kept coming, the pistol falling out of his hand like in slow motion. Luke saw Falcone jump to his feet with a gun in his hand, and then – another blast, and the short man fell back into his chair, a red stain forming on his otherwise white shirt.
All sound seized, the shots echoing in Luke’s head. From somewhere far away he heard: “All clear, two men down, need paramedics.”
The following hour was a blur for Luke. He thought he was dead, even though he obviously wasn’t, and the sounds were echoes in a tunnel. He remembered being dragged out of the conference room, as more men entered it. Then there was the elevator floor – he was sitting in the corner amidst legs in dark pants, with shiny black shoes.
On the ride in the black SUV he was looking out the window, listening to the distant voice: “You’re lucky I was there when I was, buddy!” Then, at some point: “We’ve been onto you for weeks, since the visits started. Wasn’t too hard. Hey, sorry I turned you down like that. We had to make it look good.”
The next phrase brought Luke out of trance: “You’re a lucky man, Luke. Tasha is a fighter.”
“What did you just say to me?”
He turned to the driver, and the realization dawned upon him: it was Chris, his university pal and an agent with the FBI. Subconsciously, it all made sense to him, but he didn’t want to think about it.
“Tasha,” Chris said. “Tasha Hendricks.”
*****
Tasha received the call soon after she’d said goodbye to Kelly. They had finished their coffee, and she was on her way home, when the Blackberry buzzed. It was Agent Chris. He explained that the Bureau had been watching and listening, and was about to nail the bastards who had caused them so much trouble. He said he was on his way to rescue Luke.
Tasha was furious, but only for a moment. Then happiness almost swept her off her feet, before her brain kicked in.
“We still want a deal,” she said.
“Witness protection?”
“Including that. We’re leaving the country in a few hours, and we’ll be testifying from overseas, once it’s safe enough.”
She listed off some more demands, and to his credit Agent Chris listened to her. He agreed to let them go, provided they turn in the evidence.
The deal was fair.
The first thing Tasha did when she got home was to reserve those plane tickets, and then pack a small suitcase. She wouldn’t need much – things were immaterial at that point. She changed clothes, made sure she’d taken her passport, and stepped out of the apartment
. She locked the door, wishing she would come back some day. Until then Kelly would take care of it.
Downstairs a black sedan with government plates picked her up and delivered her to JFK, with blue lights flashing on the roof as they sped through the traffic.
She met Luke at the gate and jumped into his arms.
“I love you so much!” she whispered, and he replied with the same.
There were kisses, and then Tasha passed Agent Chris the yellow envelope. He wished them safe travels, and at 2AM their plane took off, taking them away from New York and towards their new, amazing life together.
The end.
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Her Russian Millionaire (BWWM Romance Book 1) Page 23
