“I’m sorry...what?” Freya took a step back, not that there was anywhere for her to run to.
“Jaxon?” Liv put the tray on the low dresser and turned to the bed.
The phone.
It was under her pillow.
“Can you do that later?” Freya asked.
“First day on the job, dear.” Liv grasped the comforter and whisked it off. She never missed a beat though. “I was listening to the boys talk about all this. They wanted to bring Shelby in, see if she couldn’t back Jaxon up, but the poor dear. She can’t be here. That monster would kill her on sight. Then they said something about Taylor, you don’t know her, but Ian hasn’t told anyone she’s pregnant. Keep that between us, okay?”
Hadn’t Jaxon mentioned an Ian? Freya didn’t know, couldn’t keep the names straight.
Liv popped the bottom sheet off, flicked the linen and pulled pillows and sheets off in one go. She caught the phone Jaxon had given Freya with her other hand.
Freya stared, her skin going cold.
If this was a set up... If this woman was trying to trick her...
“Want to keep this in a safer spot.” Liv pitched the phone at Freya, who barely caught it in time.
“You...aren’t going to tell on me?”
“Honey, no. I’m here to look out for you. And Jaxon, of course. He’s a dear. Now, eat.”
“How... But, how do I know you’re...”
“We can give Jaxon a quick call.” Liv pulled out her phone and tapped the screen. The speaker began ringing.
This wasn’t...right. Was it?
“Aunt Liv, hey. Where are you? Erik said you’d taken off for a few days.”
That was...
“Jax, hey. I’m here with your friend, Freya.” Liv glanced at her and smiled.
“You’re—what?”
Another voice in the background was indistinguishable.
“Tell Freya I’m friendly. I don’t bite much.” Liv chuckled.
“Freya?” Jaxon called out.
“I-I’m here,” Freya replied.
“Good God. Liv—what are you doing? Get out of there.” Jaxon groaned.
“You need someone else around. I can help,” Liv said. “Don’t tell Erik, yet. It’ll go better if I tell him myself.”
“Erik is going to shank me for you getting involved.”
“I did this myself, you know?”
“Liv, be careful. Freya, Liv’s good people, even if I do want to strangle her right now.”
“Gotta go boys. Kisses!” Liv ended the call and pocketed her phone.
“I’m...really confused what’s going on right now,” Freya said slowly.
“Well, why don’t you eat, and I’ll talk?” Liv gathered up the dirty linens and tossed the fresh ones on the bed.
Freya was too hungry to argue, given the proof that she could trust Liv.
“The boys are working on finding your sister, and Jaxon is burning the candle at both ends. Seemed to me you could use another friend here.” Liv smiled.
“This...you know what goes on here?”
“My dear, I spent a handful of years working in Amsterdam’s red light district. Nothing here’s going to shock me.” Liv merely lifted a shoulder and continued about her work.
“Not even what’s going on with me?”
“Men have been paying a pretty penny for their fantasies since the dawn of time. Doesn’t make it right, mind you.” Liv finished putting the new sheets on the bed and stepped back. “They haven’t hurt you?”
“No, they’re saving me for one man to hurt me.” Freya grimaced.
“You know how to fight back?”
“Would it do any good?”
“You’d be surprised.” Liv shrugged.
“I’ve never had self-defense training.”
“Pity. If you weren’t confined, I’d tell you to run and scream your head off. Draws too much attention. In here, the key is making yourself too much work to deal with. Hands.” Liv grasped Freya by the wrist. “You have a nail file? Give yourself claws. If it comes to fighting back, don’t go for the face or chest, you want to aim for soft-tissue areas. The kidneys, stomach, groin, neck. Men can be big babies, if you get them right. Also, everything around you can be a weapon. Use whatever you can get your hands on.”
Freya nodded. It was common sense stuff, but she’d been trapped for so long she’d forgotten to use her head.
Liv finished changing the linens, making the bed, and gathering the trash. By the time she was done, Freya had scarfed down her food and made a mental list for the next few hours.
“I need to go, but I’ll be back with your dinner. Bring you some tape, and we can hide the phone behind this dresser. Under your pillow isn’t a safe enough spot.”
“You’re right.” Freya nodded.
“Give me a hug, dear. There’s no reason to look so sad. The boys are good at this stuff.”
Freya bit her lip and squeezed the other woman tightly. Besides Jaxon, she hadn’t experienced another human touch without fear in weeks.
Soon, if all went well, she’d be free. And so would Michelle.
Yuri stared at the list of names.
People who’d deserted him these last two months.
The Ogden job was costing him an arm and a leg in repercussions. This had to stop.
Donny’s betrayal was expected. The man was too smart and power hungry to not make a move like this. Keith, though? That had come as a surprise. Yuri doubted the man was simply gone, as Jaxon had said. It was more likely that Donny had given Keith something of value, a life insurance policy he’d never been able to cash in on.
It’d been Donny, after all, who’d promoted Keith to the Queen’s Nest desk. Donny liked to use Keith for odd, one-off jobs.
Yuri should have seen that coming, but he’d been too preoccupied. He’d allowed himself to slip up, and now look where that’d gotten him.
Yuri would have to make an example of at least one of them.
People didn’t do business with him and then jump ship. He was the one who held the secrets, knew where all the bodies were buried, and possessed the evidence to bring each client down.
They would do well to remember that.
Yuri’s phone chimed.
Charles was coming by early tonight and Yuri intended to meet him. A little personal touch. A thank you for his loyal patronage. Besides, after last night’s incident, Yuri would need to accompany Charles into the Nest to ensure that Freya did as she was told.
Yuri needed that payday.
“Sir?” Thomas stuck his head in the door.
“I’m headed down,” Yuri said. He pushed to his feet and pulled his jacket off the rack. Appearances were everything right now.
“You’re going to want to hear this, sir.” Thomas stepped in and gestured to a man behind him.
“I didn’t know you’d retained Sam’s services.” Yuri squashed his urge to frown.
Sam didn’t work cheap, though he was thorough. He was the private investigator of the crime world. If there was dirt to find, he’d zero in on it.
“Don’t sweat it, Yuri. I’m willing to cut you a deal.” Sam approached the desk and offered a thumb drive.
“What kind of deal?” Yuri took the drive and rolled it over in his hand.
After that nasty bit of work Ogden had done with the railroad company, Yuri wasn’t keen on plugging an unknown device into his machine.
“That’s info on your girls. Those two twins you got?” Sam nodded at the drive.
“You told him about the job?” Yuri glanced at Thomas.
“You said to get results...” Thomas had the good grace to look nervous.
“You know their mom died over a year ago?” Sam sank into a guest chair and propped his feet on Yuri’s desk.
“Yes.” Yuri had never invited Sam to his office for this reason. The man had no boundaries.
“Turns out, the girl’s mom has spent nearly thirty years squirreling away the dad’s money into a trust fund. Dad’s
not too happy about it, but the mom had him by the balls. Anyway—this is the part you’ll find interesting and where we can do our deal.”
“I’m listening.”
“From what I was able to gather, the trust is structured to be released half to each sister, with a quarter of it being paid out on marriage and a quarter being paid out on visiting the mother’s family in Finland.”
“How much money?” Yuri wasn’t willing to go to the trouble of absconding with a couple grand.
“How’s five million sound? And that’s the number I found from a few years ago. Between interest and additional deposits before the mom’s death, and who knows where her life insurance went, there could be a substantial bit in there.”
“Hm.” Yuri turned the USB drive over in his hand. “What do you propose?”
“Fake marriage documents. If you’ve got one of the girls, can’t you pop over the ocean? They’re twins, right? Stick a hat on one and pass her off as both.”
Yuri glanced at Thomas. The other man spread his hands.
This had to be what Michelle was up to. She’d been far too helpful in getting her sister’s cooperation. It was an awful lot of money, and in Yuri’s experience, money made people do crazy things.
“I’ll agree, on one condition,” Yuri said.
“What’s that?”
“You must facilitate one twin’s trip to Finland, and then dispatch of her.”
“That’s...no, man. That’s not what I do.”
“If you want in on the money, it is.”
Sam thought he was clever. This time, Yuri would ensure he had the man in his debt.
Freya paced from one wall to the other, like a ping pong ball. Only a lot slower.
Night had fallen, which meant in a few hours Jaxon would be outside those doors.
She bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder.
Would he be there when Charles showed up?
She hoped so.
Last night... She’d been fairly certain Charles would hurt her. Oh, she had no doubt that given time, he would kill her. She could only hope that Jaxon found Michelle in time. That her sister wasn’t in danger.
Breathe.
She needed to stay calm. She couldn’t allow herself to get worked up over things. It would make her appear guilty, and she needed to continue to be the helpless prisoner.
Freya leaned against the mini bar and ran her finger along the crystal decanter.
She’d never thought of the bottle as a weapon. It seemed so obvious once Liv had walked her through the apartment, pointing out what she could use and how.
What was it Liv had said?
Learn to not be the victim?
Freya might be a prisoner, but Liv was right. Freya didn’t have to be a victim. If things went bad, she could always fight back.
She leaned forward, peering down to what she guessed was the employee parking lot.
Jaxon’s BMW wasn’t anywhere to be seen, which meant it was still early.
Hours to go, then.
She could wait.
No problem.
She smoothed her hands down her dress. Tonight, it was a champagne-colored cocktail dress. At a glance it was plain, but it was a remarkable cut.
Her mother would have worn something like this.
The door beeped.
Freya jolted and stared at the reflection of two men stepping into the room.
No.
It was still early.
He couldn’t be here now.
“Good evening, pet.” Charles’ gaze locked on hers in the glass.
She resisted the urge to shudder.
Instead, Freya licked her lips and straightened her spine a bit more. She curled her toes into the carpet and exhaled, grounding herself.
“You’re early,” she said.
Yuri crossed to the sofa and sat down without a greeting, pulling out his phone.
Was he there to act as her protector? Was there some hope that things would go differently tonight?
Charles ambled across the room toward her.
Freya mentally catalogued the things in arm’s reach she could use to defend herself.
The crystal decanter. The glasses. They were all hard objects with sharp edges. Then there were all the small things she could throw.
Even out promoting the club, she’d never truly been in physical danger. Sure, she carried pepper spray like every other girl, but she’d never needed it. Now she didn’t even have that, and yet she felt more prepared to handle this obvious threat to her person than she’d ever been from some nebulous sort of danger.
Charles came to stand next to her. Close enough their arms almost brushed against each other.
“It’s another dreary night. I can’t imagine why you came here, of all the cities.” Charles pivoted a bit, peering sideways at her.
Freya didn’t hear a question, so she didn’t offer comment.
She felt, more than saw, Charles frown. He turned to face her. She saw the glimpse of his arm rise and steeled herself.
Last night’s almost altercation had come about because she’d flinched away from him. Tonight, she wouldn’t give up her position near the bar for anything.
His hand curled around the back of her neck and head. He turned her, none too gently, until she had no choice but to look at him.
Lines bracketed his mouth and his gaze had an odd glint she didn’t like. Cold. Predatory. She tipped her chin up and stared back.
Darkness could only be combated with light.
Charles wanted to consume something good, something that would make him feel. Well, she wasn’t going to be it.
Jaxon would find Michelle, and then she was out of here.
“Such a smart little pet you are.” Charles stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I’ve been thinking a lot about you today.”
Breathe.
In.
Out.
Breathe.
Charles lips curled.
“When I speak, you will answer me.” His voice went rough, unforgiving.
“Okay. Yes. Fine.” Fear bubbled up inside of her.
She stared back into his eyes, which were watching her every move. Her reactions. The way she responded.
He wanted her to do something...
She had to stay calm.
She shoved the fear back down, bursting those bubbles as best she could, embracing the calm.
Yuri was there. He would protect his interests, wouldn’t he?
Charles tipped his head to one side. It was a bird-like gesture. As though she puzzled him.
Freya swallowed.
She would not react in fear. She couldn’t.
“You’re perfect, you know? I’ve been thinking about how nice it would be to have a partner. And here you are.” Charles cupped her other cheek, cradling her face in his hands.
“A p-partner? In what?”
“Playing, pet.”
“Oh.” Freya didn’t think she wanted to know what playing entailed.
“Would you like that?” He smiled, his eyes sparking with a cold light.
“I-I don’t know.” She hated the stutter, how it betrayed her.
“Have you ever killed someone, pet?”
“What? No.” She rocked back onto her heels.
“You should try it. It’s liberating. Makes you feel like a god. Would you like to try it? I bet Yuri could handle the logistics for us, couldn’t you?” Charles glanced at the other man.
Yuri lifted his face from his phone, his expression bored.
“I could,” Yuri said after a moment. “But not tonight. You’d need someone special for that first time.”
“You never forget your first.” Charles sighed.
Freya gaped at Yuri. He so casually bartered someone’s life?
“I’m not going to kill people with you,” Freya blurted.
Charles’ smile leeched away and he stared at her with the coldness back in place.
“You’ll do what you’re told, pet.”
He tapped her nose. “Now, marry me.”
“No.” Freya took a step back. She couldn’t agree to that. Never. Not in a million years.
“It wasn’t a request.” His hands tightened around her face, nails digging into her skin.
“Charles!” Yuri leapt up off the couch.
Charles pushed her back against the bar, one hand sliding down to her throat.
Yuri didn’t close in, he didn’t make a move to help her. He wasn’t going to stop Charles.
Freya ignored the panicked logic telling her to go for his face.
She grasped the crystal bottle and swung. It hit the side of Charles’ head with a stomach-churning crack. He cried out and his hands slid from around her.
Freya sidestepped him, still clutching the bottle.
Charles tossed his head back and laughed. Blood trickled down his face.
“Charles, take it easy.” Yuri stepped between them, hands up. For once, he seemed leery of Charles.
“I’m gonna love teaching her.” Charles pushed to his feet, staring at her.
“Yes, but not tonight.” Yuri took a step closer to Charles and nudged him back.
“You have too many goddamned rules, Yuri,” Charles snarled.
“Calm down.”
“Don’t you tell me to fucking calm down.”
“All right, why don’t we take this to my office and discuss what happens next?” Yuri gestured at the doors.
Charles kept grinning at her, blood trickling down the side of his face. He seemed...giddy. Like she’d initiated foreplay or something.
Freya swallowed but didn’t look away from him.
Charles would kill her if she didn’t cooperate and Yuri might let him. She was pretty sure that man wouldn’t think twice if enough money was offered. She was a commodity. A good to be sold, not kept.
“Charles?” Yuri prompted the other man. He held out his hand toward the door.
Charles kept staring at Freya.
She swallowed, but didn’t back down. She didn’t cry. She was numb.
This... this was reality. It was happening to her. Not on some TV show or case study. This was her life.
“Charles...” Yuri’s voice had an edge to it, a warning. She’d heard it once and learned her lesson. “Let’s go see about that head of yours.”
Charles stalked toward the door and Yuri remained between her and her would-be suitor all the way to the door.
Bad Boy Prince: A Modern Fairy Tale (Twisted Royals Book 3) Page 13
