Nightclub Surprise

by Michelle Love

  “So, what now, Penn?”

  “Now…nothing. But I’ll be watching. One wrong move and I’ll make sure everyone, including Daddy Dearest, knows about your murderous little ways. Stay away from me, stay away from Sofia, and you get to keep your pathetic little existence.”

  Penn strode to the door, not looking back, slamming it behind him. It echoed in the silence of the cabin.

  Tamara could barely believe she was still alive. She took out her cellphone and found the photograph of her and Ivo Zacca. She had promised Grant that she would hang onto it until the right moment but that moment was now. She quickly typed an email to a gossip columnist she knew and sent the photo. By morning the whole world would know that Ivo Zacca cheated on his beautiful wife at his own mother’s funeral. Tamara grinned to herself and called Grant.

  He was, as expected, unhappy at the move, but sighed. “Fine. This just means we’ll have to move things up. I have a feeling how Sofia will react and I’ll just have to take advantage. You make sure the room is ready. I’m bringing Sofia back to New York.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “Hey, sugar lips.”

  Ivo chuckled. “That’s a new one. Look, I have one more appointment and I’ll be home, baby.”

  “Good. You have some more mood boards to okay.” Sofia laughed, but Ivo couldn’t help notice there was something else, an edge to her voice.

  “You okay?”

  “Absolutely fine. I’ll see you later.”

  Ivo hung up, something shifting inside him, an unease building. He put his phone away and smiled at his colleague. “Sorry, what were we saying?”

  An hour later, he took the Metro back to the apartment. The evening was falling and all was setting in, a sharp breeze making the fallen leaves start to jump and dance. Ivo stopped to buy Sofia some peaches from a market stall then took the stairs up to the penthouse apartment.

  He knew it was empty as soon as he walked in. It echoed with emptiness. “Sof?”

  No answer. He walked from room to room, but she was nowhere. Maybe she had just stepped out for some food or…

  Her sketchbook, which always sat on the kitchen countertop was gone. Ivo didn’t know why he felt panic rush through him – it could be anywhere in the apartment but as he searched again, he saw several of her most prized possessions were gone. He ran to the bedroom and checked the closet – her clothes, her practical jeans and t-shirt uniform were gone, as was her backpack.

  Io didn’t understand. A cold draft hit him then and he noticed the doors to the balcony were ajar. He pushed them open and stepped out. Sofia’s mood boards were resting, side-by-side, against the stone balustrade, not covered in ideas for décor, but on every inch, plastered with the photograph of him kissing that strange woman at his mother’s funeral – or rather, her kissing him.

  “Oh Jesus, Jesus, no…” Ivo was about to leave, desperately to find Sofia, when he noticed the one photograph that wasn’t like the rest. The woman was still the same but younger but it was the rest of the people in the shot that made his heart stop…especially the youngest, most beautiful girl and the woman who was undoubtedly her mother. Ivo stared at the photograph of his wife, her late mother and the family they had married into, and knew without a doubt that the woman he was kissing in the photograph, was Tamara Rutland.

  Ivo ran down the stairs out into the street and screamed his wife’s name. But there was no answer.

  Sofia was gone.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Do you have her?”

  Grant Christo looked over to the sleeping woman next him on the plane and smiled to himself. “Oh yes, I have her.” He heard Tamara’s soft laugh.

  “Good.”

  The flight attendant glared at him then and he hung up, giving her an apologetic look. “Sorry, all done.”

  The attendant looked appeased. She nodded to Sofia’s sleeping form. “Would she like another pillow?”

  “That would be lovely, thank you.” Grant needn’t tell the attendant that with the strong sedative he had drugged Sofia with, she wouldn’t notice if she was sleeping on a rock, she’s be out until they landed in New York. The attendant brought the pillow and Grant dutifully tucked it under Sofia’s head. She didn’t even stir. Grant swept a lock of black hair away from her face and pressed his lips against the soft skin of her cheek.

  When she had burst out from the apartment, tears streaming down her face, her movements jerky and uncoordinated, Grant had known how easy this would be. Bumping into her, he’d acted the concerned friend, trying to make her go back to the apartment, until she’d begged him to take her to the airport. When he had insisted on accompanying her, she resisted but gave it. After they’d boarded the plane, she had told him that she just wanted to go to sleep and he offered her an Ambien. Of course, what he gave her was much stronger, would make her more pliable when they reached the States. She’d still not told him why she had been so upset, but, of course, he knew. Tamara’s photo was all over the internet. The betrayal Sofia felt was written all over her face – she looked utterly broken-hearted.

  And now she had willingly handed herself over to the man who would, in a few hours, make the rest of her life a living hell. Grant could barely wait. When the plane had taken off, and the flight attendant had pulled down the shades, people falling asleep, Grant released his seatbelt, and covered both he and Sofia in the blanket. Under it, he slid his hand under her short and stroked her belly, the soft and silky skin of her, imagining how it would split under his knife. Sofia murmured and Grant withdrew his hand with a smile.

  There would be plenty of time to explore her body later. He hoped Tamara had kept up her end of the bargain and prepared the killing room for him. He would keep Sofia drugged until he reached the club, unless her altered state became an issue, or attracted attention. For now, he would have to be satisfied that she was on the plane and on her way back to where he wanted her. Slowly, slowly, his plan was coming to fruition and he couldn’t wait for the next part.

  Ivo called Desiree, called everyone he knew Sofia was friends with in the city, but none of them had seen her. Desiree listened to everything Ivo told her and nodded. “I have a contact at the Direction générale de l'aviation civile. If she got on a plane, they can find out.”

  Two hours later, she called Ivo back. “She got on a plane to New York this evening. They’ll be landing in about a half hour…Ivo? She boarded with a man named Grant Christo.”

  Ivo felt his heart shudder. “What?”

  “I’m sorry, Ivo. That’s what they told me. Witnesses said she seemed pretty out of it, and Grant was very ‘attentive’, whatever that means. Who is this guy?”

  Ivo sighed. “His other name is Felix Hammond – he lives down the hall to you.”

  “Grant Christo is Felix?” Desiree sounded astonished. “God, Ivo…”

  Ivo was alarmed by her tone. “What is it?”

  “Don’t freak out, but I don’t like that guy. I never have. I don’t know, call it instinct, but he reminds me of a guy I used to know, before I transitioned. A hustler. The more I think about him, the more I’m convinced he’s the same guy.”

  Ivo’s blood was like ice. “Desiree…what aren’t you telling me?”

  He heard the hesitation in Desiree’s voice. “He’s into…stuff. Kinky stuff, some of it more…avant-garde than the usual. Knife play, stuff like that.”

  “What the actual fuck? Oh, god, Des…” Ivo felt his breathing get shallow and faster. “What if he…why would she go with him?”

  “Like I said, he’s a hustler. Very convincing. Didn’t she say he stopped her father from abducting her that time.”

  “Step-father,” Ivo said, almost unconsciously. “She said he was a friend…but wouldn’t a friend stop her from running, get her to come talk to me, talk things out?”

  “Depends what kind of friend…”

  “Sofia would never cheat on me,” Ivo said fiercely and Desiree sighed.

  “I know that, but wh
at’s to say he state of mind is? After that photo…what were you thinking, Ivo?”

  “The Rutland bitch kissed me, obviously had set it up to be photographed. I did not cheat on my wife.”

  “I know that too,” Desi said gently. “Calm down. We have to work this problem. Who does Sofia know in New York? Jonas and…?”

  “Penn Black.” Suddenly Ivo felt a little better. “I call Penn, see if he can make it to the airport by the time they get through passport control.”

  “You’re reaching but it’s worth a shot.”

  Ivo said goodbye then grabbed his own passport, leaving the apartment to run down and fetch a cab. In the cab he called Penn, who eventually answered. He sounded drunk.

  “Penn, dude, I need you to focus right now.”

  “Can’t, man. Willa died because of, I should have…” Penn was barely coherent and Ivo felt a rush of anger, and despair.

  “Penn! Listen to me…Sofia is gone.” Ivo made a decision. “She was taken.” He winced a little at the lie but he needed to get through to his friend – he was Ivo’s best hope. He would call Jonas too afterward, but Penn was closer and had the resources to get things done. “Penn, are you listening? Sofia is on her way to New York with a man called Grant Christo. We don’t think she’s with him voluntarily.”

  There was a loaded pause on the end of the phone. “Ivo, did you say Grant Christo?”

  “Yes. He’s a friend, or an acquaintance of Sofia’s. Listen, something happened, something with Sofia’s stepsister. At my mom’s funeral. She set me up and there was a photograph and Sofia saw it.”

  “Man, you need to start at the beginning. You said Sofia was taken…and now you’re saying she’s with Christo? Grant Christo?”

  Ivo was alerted by the strain in Penn’s voice. “What is it?”

  “Ivo…Grant Christo is one of Tamara Rutland’s lovers. They’re in business together.”

  Icy cold shock. “What?”

  Penn drew in a long breath. “Ivo…I was fucking Tamara Rutland. I didn’t know about her connection to Sofia, I swear, until Sofia told me about Tamara’s mother. Then I knew. Tamara killed Willa. She’s psychotic, Ivo, truly and she hates Sofia. She also knows that I…was with you and Sofia.”

  “And she’s in business with Grant Christo?” Ivo felt sick. “And he has my beautiful girl? God, Penn. Desiree told me he was a twisted fuck.”

  “He is. If he has Sofia…”

  “Please, Penn, get sober and get to JFK. I’m getting the first flight I can. Please…Penn, I have a terrible feeling about this.”

  Penn sounded as if he were fully sober now. “I’m on it, Ivo. Listen, Tamara and Grant have a club, Le Petite Mort…if they were going to hide someone, it’ll be there. When you get here, if I haven’t called you, go straight there and I’ll meet you. We’ll get her back, brother, I swear we will.”

  Sofia woke as the plane landed. At first, she forgot where she was, then looking around, her eyes widened when she saw Grant beside her instead of Ivo.

  Then she remembered. God. That terrible moment when she’d seen that photograph. Ivo, her beloved, trustworthy, gorgeous Ivo kissing Tamara. The pain was like nothing she had ever felt and after printing out all of those copies, she had been like a whirling dervish, plastering them to her mood boards, then finding that one photo online of the family. Fucking, fucking Tamara…

  Sofia had sobbed out her rage as she packed her possessions into her backpack and ran out of the apartment. Her eyes were so swollen with tears that when she ran into Grant and he gently guided her into a cab, she just let it happen. And now she was back in the one place she swore she would never go back to.

  She felt Grant take her hand. “Hey, sleepy.” She tried to smile at him but if she were honest, she felt a little nauseous, and the way he was looking at her…

  “Grant, I shouldn’t have gotten on this plane. God,” she sat up and rubbed her face. “What was I thinking?”

  “Listen, it’s okay.” Grant’s voice was smooth, persuasive. “We’ll get you to a hotel and then you can call Ivo, or whoever you want.”

  Something was off about his smile. “Maybe I should call him from the airport.”

  Grant shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “From what you told me, Ivo fucking your step-sister isn’t something you want to talk about in public.”

  Sofia gave a shocked gasp as his words hit home. “I saw them kissing…once, in a photograph...”

  “You really think it’s a coincidence? Come on now, Sofia, you’re young but you’re not naïve.”

  Sofia didn’t say any more until they were passing through passport control. Her legs wobbled and Grant took her elbow. “Let’s get some coffee and some breakfast inside of you.”

  Sofia let him steer her out of the airport and into a cab. As they pulled away, she saw a familiar face. “Hey! There’s Penn…hey, stop the cab.”

  “Don’t stop the cab,” Grant ordered the driver and Sofia gaped at him

  “No, wait, he’s a friend…stop!” She began to panic but Grant out his hand over her mouth. His eyes were cold.

  “He is not your friend, Sofia. He’s been sleeping with your step-sister. I’ve seen him at a club, an S&M club, and he’s been fucking her for months. He is not your friend, okay? Now, listen to me, I’m going to take you somewhere safe, where you can eat, rest and gather your thoughts. Then we’ll go from there, okay?”

  There was an icy determination in his eyes and suddenly Sofia felt very afraid. “Grant…where are you taking me?”

  “Somewhere we can talk.”

  And that’s all he would say for the rest of the journey. The cab drove into the heart of the city and pulled up in an alleyway. “Thanks, Dwayne.” Grant handed over a bunch of notes and the driver nodded, silent and watchful. He didn’t look at Sofia.

  Grant helped Sofia out of the cab. “Come with me.” He walked to a door, half hidden behind some dumpsters and opened it. Sofia hesitated, peering into the darkness within.

  “It’s my business premises,” Grant said, a little impatiently. “Nothing to be scared of.”

  Sofia walked inside reluctantly, but to her relief, the corridor inside led to some offices and then out into a bar. Grant put her backpack down and went behind the bar. She saw him put a pot of coffee on to percolate.

  “Now, I’m not a great cook, but I can make us some eggs, if you’d like.”

  Sofia’s stomach gave a lurch. “No, thanks.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  He seemed like a stranger, his whole manner changed even from a day ago. She didn’t recognize this man. Her skin prickled with unease. “Can I use your phone, please?”

  “Not yet.”

  Oh god. She swallowed hard. “Grant…what is this place?”

  “I told you, it’s my business. Come on, Sofia, you know what a club looks like. I know you’ve been to the ones in Paris…sorry, you’re probably confused because this one doesn’t have a glass cubicle.”

  Her stomach dropped to her feet. “What?”

  Grant grinned and moved closer to her. “You like being watched, don’t you? Being serviced by two men? Quite the departure from the little virgin who arrived in Paris a year ago, hey?”

  He suddenly gripped her thigh painfully. “I hope you’ve saved some of that sweet cunt for me.”

  Sofia jerked away from him and darted for the door. She didn’t make it. Grant dragged her back into the club, throwing her to the floor and straddling her. Oh sweet Jesus, he’s going to rape me. Sofia struggled with him but his strength vastly outweighed hers. Desperate, she bit the hand that was covering her mouth and Grant roared with pain. He rocked back then, as she saw the murderous fury in his eyes, he slammed his fist into her temple and everything went dark.

  Grant picked up the unconscious woman easily and threw her over his shoulder. He walked down into the labyrinthian corridors beneath the club, then down yet another leve
l, his excitement building. At last he would see his fantasy made real. He unlocked the killing room and took Sofia in, laying her on the bed. She was so small, so vulnerable that he couldn’t stop staring at her. He pushed up her shirt and tugged it over her head, before removing her jeans. Her body, all soft curves and dusky skin, was as sensational as he remembered from the club. He lay down beside her and stroked her face. Then was a thin stream of blood running from her left eyebrow where he had punched her and split the skin, otherwise she was perfect.

  “Jesus, are you just going to spoon with her?”

  Grant, irritated, looked up to see Tamara standing in the doorway, a mocking smile on her face. Trust the bitch to ruin this moment. No matter, he would have plenty of time with Sofia. “Your boyfriend Black was at the airport. I think he was looking for her.”

  “Which means Zacca sent him. They know we have her.”

  Grant gave Tamara a chilly smile. “It makes no difference. She’ll be dead long before they find their way down here.”

  “You hope. Why don’t you just do it now? Stick a knife in her belly and let’s dump her.”

  “All this planning, all this work and you just want to rush it? No way. I’m going to enjoy killing this beauty…after I’ve fucked her off course.”

  Tamara made a disgusted sound. “What the fuck does she have that she makes men slather over her?”

  Grant merely smiled. “Now that you’re here…let’s get things going. Help me strip her and put her in that gown.”

  Tamara made a face. “What’s this?” She pulled the white gown away from the wall, studied it, then began to smile. “Fine. Let’s get her into it.”

  The gown fit Sofia’s curves perfectly, the fabric clinging to her body like a second skin. The deep curve of the neck showed off her full breasts perfectly. The skirt skimming her ankles. It would have made for a perfect wedding dress- with the exception of the large circular cut-out over the abdomen, Sofia’s deep, round navel at the center of it. Tamara grinned.

  “Target practice.”

  Grant smiled. “Exactly. Now, let’s tie her to the St Andrew’s Cross. I think she’s coming around.”