Bad Boy Prince: A Modern Fairy Tale (Twisted Royals Book 3)

by Sidney Bristol

  “What are you saying?” Freya shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

  “What I’m saying is...I think he’s still in Seattle with your sister.” Shelby stared at Freya, her gaze hard and compassionate, if there was a way to be both.

  “But...why? It makes no sense to stay here.” Freya glanced between the three.

  “If Gabor doesn’t have money, he can’t buy a flight or a bus ticket out of the country. Your sister is the only currency he has, and moving her will take people and talent, both of which will cost him. I don’t think Michelle was a willing captive this time around, and that makes her trouble. Add in the FBI presence, the secret service finally paying attention to the fact that a Senator’s daughter is missing, and it’s a lot of attention Gabor does not want.”

  “What do I do?” Freya asked.

  “We’re going to find Michelle,” Jaxon said.

  “How?” She glanced from person to person. To listen to Shelby lay it all out there, this was an impossible task.

  “We need to make him persona non grata. Force him out. I’ve got a plan, but it’s going to take all of us to pull it off.”

  “I’m in,” Jaxon said.

  “Will anyone get hurt?” Freya wasn’t willing to risk other people for the sake of her sister again.

  “Not if this goes well. Now, how much help do you think we can coerce your father into giving us?”

  “Not a lot.”

  “Okay, I’ll work on that. We’re going to make Yuri Gabor the FBI’s new best friend and turn him into the underworld’s most unwanted guest.”

  “Sir? Mr. Gabor?”

  Yuri pried one eye open. The face of the man leaning over him was fuzzy and haloed in light.

  That was wrong.

  It was still night.

  He sat up and peered around dilapidated house they’d stopped at. The foreclosure sign had seemed promising as far as providing a place to stop and reassess their needs.

  Yuri rubbed at his face. There were long grooves in his skin from where the cushions had left indentations on him.

  “How long was I out? Where are we on things?” He glanced around, but the house was oddly silent.

  “A while, sir.” Sergi took a step back, his usual frown deeper, more pronounced.

  “Well?” Yuri snapped. He shouldn’t have fallen asleep at all. What was wrong with him?

  “I’m sorry sir, but the girl got away from the others.”

  “What?” Yuri shoved to his feet. “Where are they?”

  “They left, about half an hour after they told me the girl was gone.” Sergi took another step back, hand at his hip.

  Yuri stared at that hand, the one not so conspicuously reaching for his weapon.

  His men were gone. His leverage was gone. It was just Yuri and Sergi.

  “So, what? You’re going to leave now, too?” Yuri spread his hands.

  “I wanted to tell you myself,” Sergi said.

  “What did the others do to me?” Yuri slid his tongue along the top of his mouth. There was an odd, not right taste.

  “I’m not sure,” Sergi said.

  “My men drugged me, stole my leverage, and now you’re going to leave me. There’s no pride, no respect, no loyalty in you people. None.”

  “I’m not going down, sir. You’re awake. You can travel. I have a family to think about.”

  Yuri drew the gun at his back and fired. Three times. Just to make sure.

  Sergi was dead before he hit the ground.

  Yuri stared at the man. This was what loyalty amounted to these days. Sniveling cowards slinking off in the dead of the night.

  He didn’t need them.

  Yuri had built this business, this empire, with nothing more than his sweat and sometimes blood. He could do it again. He would remake himself, brand the business differently. Lure all those cowards back, and when they thought they’d made it, snap the trap shut.

  What about Freya? Michelle? Shelby?

  Those three bitches were bringing his world down around him.

  He clenched the gun in his hand.

  The smart thing to do, the logical thing, would be to get out of town. Put space between himself and the feds. Save vengeance for another day. After all, he couldn’t exact his pound of flesh if he was dead.

  He had the car. He could drive into Canada, and from there fly anywhere in the world

  It was a smart plan. A good plan.

  He collected the gun, the keys, and Sergi’s wallet before leaving. Yuri got behind the wheel and turned the car west, back toward the highway.

  If he could get his hands on Freya, this would be so much easier. But she would be under federal protection by now, and out of his reach.

  Shelby though... She’d never borne restrictions well, which was what made getting her for Ogden so easy.

  Yuri could capture her. He knew her habits, where she went. It would be easy.

  The feds were looking for him and his team, not him on his own.

  It would only take an hour, maybe two.

  And who knew? Maybe he’d get lucky. He’d always been luckiest when he worked on his own without the encumbrance of other idiots.

  It would only take a short while, and then he could restart the game under a new name...

  Jaxon glanced over his shoulder. Shelby and Freya still had their heads together. There was some sort of natural kinship, a bond perhaps, that glued them together. He wished that it wasn’t formed on the mutual experience of being held prisoner.

  Kade had scurried off at the first sound someone made of Ian being released from the hospital leaving just the three of them together. Jaxon had to wonder how much longer this save the day bullshit would continue if the word was true, if Taylor really was pregnant. Ian was the kind of guy who wanted to be boots on the ground with every crisis that arose, and that was before the natural dangers of his career factored in. How long until Ian made the move to do something else? What then? It wasn’t any of Jaxon’s damn business, but it helped get his mind off the one thing gnawing at him.

  They weren’t going to find Yuri.

  The more time that passed without a lead or some sign of him, the less likely it was that they’d get Michelle back. Jaxon had heard all the statistics. The feds didn’t say much when Freya was around, but they ignored Jaxon. While the normal window for a missing person to be returned or found safely was something around seventy-two hours, with someone like Yuri it was less than twenty-four.

  He needed an update from Zach, but did he dare make that call now? Zach was putting his neck on the line for them. Jaxon didn’t want to draw undue attention to Zach if he didn’t have to.

  Jaxon couldn’t leave Freya, not even with Shelby at her side and surrounded by feds. Freya was too precious. Until Yuri was caught or Freya landed somewhere safer, Jaxon was stuck to her.

  He let his eyes unfocus, watching the reflection of the two women in the glass. His world had narrowed to finding Freya, and now, to keeping her safe. Apart from that, what good was he to her? She wanted him, but how long would that last?

  He had to do everything in his power to make this right. Find Michelle. Protect Freya.

  And that meant calling Zach.

  Jaxon glanced at the door and pulled out his phone.

  The feds had wanted it for evidence, but without a warrant they’d just confiscated it for a few hours. He’d still sweated bullets every second because he couldn’t remember how circumspect Zach had been in text or email. They had to be more careful from here on out. Zach had a lot to lose.

  Jaxon hit dial and paced the room.

  “Hey,” Zach said after a single ring.

  “Hey.”

  “You guys okay? Javier said he and Pia came by, that she got the heat off you.”

  “Yeah, it’s been interesting. We’re still hanging out at the hotel.”

  “Good. Good.”

  “Have you heard anything?” Jaxon held his breath, praying for good news.

&
nbsp; “Nothing you’re going to like.” Zach sighed and tapped keys in the background.

  “Lay it on me.”

  “I earmarked all the guys you mentioned and made a list of his workforce.”

  “Shelby said those guys are popping up, working for other people now.”

  “Yeah, well, they’re also talking.”

  “Shit.”

  “Exactly. For a guy like Yuri, he is his reputation. If people believe doing business with him is putting themselves at risk, they’ll think twice. This means Yuri has to...do something.”

  “What kind of something?”

  “Something big.”

  “Zach...”

  “I don’t...” Zach blew out a breath. “If this was my dad, he’d behead a couple people, cut off some hands—something that would leave a lasting impression.”

  Jaxon paced back to the window and stared out. If Yuri was going to make a statement, Michelle would be it. Freya and Shelby were too well-protected for Yuri to get at them. What would he do to Michelle? Jaxon didn’t want to think about that too much, but on the other hand, he needed to be prepared for Freya’s sake.

  “This is all speculation, man,” Zach said.

  “I know.”

  “He could skip the country, get the money, and dump Michelle.”

  Jaxon didn’t reply. He couldn’t without alarming Freya.

  Yuri was strapped for cash. Michelle was his payday, both through the trust and turning a profit on her. If they didn’t find her soon she was as good as dead, and what she’d done, the people she’d wronged, none of it would matter. She would not deserve what Yuri did to her.

  “I’m sorry I don’t have more, man.” Zach sounded about as dejected as Jaxon felt.

  “No, you’ve done great. I know you’ve risked a lot helping us,” Jaxon said.

  “I shouldn’t have hesitated.”

  “You did what you had to. Everything okay on that front?”

  “So far. That makes me nervous.”

  “You think your dad will do something?”

  “If people start realizing Tali and I are still alive? Yeah. He’d have to. I’m taking Tali’s husband shopping for pre-fabricated panic rooms next week. I didn’t even know that was a thing until he called and said she hasn’t been able to sleep for weeks, that she was starting to have anxiety attacks about it all.”

  “Damn.”

  “Sorry, I shouldn’t lay this on you.”

  “If you can’t tell me, who can you tell? The others don’t know, do they?”

  “No, they don’t. Ian...might. I’m not sure after...”

  “Yeah, me neither. Just remember, if there’s anything I—or the guys can do—you can call on us.”

  “We good?” Zach asked.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “Okay, I just didn’t know...”

  “I was a dick before. I know your story. I should have also known there would be parts of it I didn’t like. You did what you had to do for your sister. I get that.” Jaxon glanced at Freya.

  “Cool.”

  “When all of this is over we should have a drink or something.”

  “Sure, man. What about your girl? What next? Anything I can help with?”

  “Can you...” Jaxon crossed the room, pitching his voice lower. “Can you look into the girl’s dad?”

  “The senator?”

  “Yeah.” If Freya’s dad wanted the money, if he wanted to control the national story, he’d need Freya. In her state, Jaxon wouldn’t want her to have to put up with the assault from her own family. She’d been through enough.

  “On it.”

  “Thanks. They’re talking about releasing us sometime this afternoon.”

  “That’s... That doesn’t sound good.”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  “Okay, I’m going to get to work on this and head to the pub later. If they let you out of there, swing by.”

  “I was actually thinking I might ask Erik if we couldn’t use the apartment over the pub, you know, for Freya.” Jaxon didn’t want Freya staying anywhere she’d lived at previously. That meant her apartment was off limits, and Jaxon shouldn’t go home either. The pub was public enough it still might be a bad idea, but Jaxon didn’t have many other options in mind without endangering more people.

  “Good idea. I’ll run it by him.”

  “I’d appreciate that. And check on Aunt Liv, will you? She left earlier. Chances are she’s fine—”

  “It’s Aunt Liv. Say no more.”

  They both chuckled.

  “Thanks for everything, Zach.” Jaxon and Zach had been at odds ever since Jaxon found out more about how Zach had escaped his home country with his sister. Jaxon had thought he’d known Zach, that out of everyone, they were tight. Now, Jaxon got it. All of it. If he could take back the words he’d said to Zach he would.

  “That’s what friends do, right? Or did I get it wrong?”

  “Nah, you got it right.”

  Jaxon hung up the phone and grimaced. If the FBI didn’t see anything to gain by holding onto him and Freya, that must mean they thought Yuri was gone, and so was Michelle. Yuri was a desperate man, reduced to almost nothing, and that made him dangerous. Very dangerous.

  Michelle might have made poor choices, but she was still Freya’s sister. That mattered. Just because Michelle did a bad thing wouldn’t change how Freya felt about Michelle. They were family. Twins. He couldn’t begin to imagine the hell she was going through with this. What he’d gone through was different. Painful, sure, but different. He knew her loss like his own, but it still wasn’t the same.

  Yuri slid the clip into the gun, never taking his eyes off the bar across the street.

  He’d researched this place after Shelby nearly singlehandedly destroyed his business. At the time, it hadn’t seemed prudent to go after her. Satisfying, yes, but at what cost? He’d needed to carry out business locally without drawing too much attention, so he’d merely kept tabs on her and left it at that.

  Now though?

  He needed to make a statement.

  Michelle was gone.

  Freya was out of his grasp.

  That left Shelby.

  Of the three, Shelby was the better target. Her betrayal was felt in many circles. Offing her would go a long way in sending the kind of message he wanted to put out there. Right before he remade himself.

  He’d lost the vision for his business in the constant push to gain more power and influence. He’d become drunk on it. That was where he’d fucked up.

  Yuri Gabor provided fantasy encounters outside the bounds of the law.

  That was it.

  He’d dabbled in clubs and venues, running more lines of business than he had the resources to maintain. He’d spread himself thin. He’d let himself become blind.

  He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  First, he’d put a bullet in Shelby’s head. Doing that under the watch of the FBI would ensure Yuri Gabor was not a name soon forgotten. He’d become a myth. A legend.

  After that, he’d focus on rebuilding himself from the ground up. A new look. A new name. Everything.

  He checked the time.

  Still early.

  He hadn’t yet confirmed that Shelby was here, but she came to the Trinity Hall Pub often enough. This was as good a place as any to catch her out and about.

  The back door of the pub swung open. The security light glinted off a blonde head of hair.

  A very pale, very familiar head of hair.

  Yuri sat forward and peered at the figure.

  He knew her.

  The woman slung one and then another garbage bag into a dumpster. She paused, putting a hand to her back as though it pained her.

  Liv—what was her last name? Something unusual.

  The new hire at the Swan Palace.

  She’d gone in and out of the Queen’s Nest a time or two.

  And now she was here.

  Yuri’s mouth gaped, and he peered at the fi
gure.

  How...?

  Where had his sense for picking the right people gone?

  First Jaxon, now this woman?

  Yuri dragged his hand across his face.

  Did they think he wouldn’t find out? That he was an idiot?

  Clearly his gut was off if both Jaxon and Liv had snuck into his inner sanctum. Not to mention his security. That could have been Donny’s doing, either by design or something else.

  This wouldn’t do. He had to act.

  Yuri got out of the car.

  Liv turned and slung another garbage bag into the dumpster, taking her sweet time disposing of the trash.

  He jogged across the street, gaze focused on the woman.

  She’d snuck by them all with smiles and pet names, disarming even Thomas who suspected everyone.

  “Hello, Liv.” Yuri lifted his gun, pointing it at her head.

  She didn’t turn to face him, though she did pause in disposing of the last bag of trash. She glanced over her shoulder at him.

  “Took you long enough to figure it out,” she said.

  “You want to consider your words from here on out very carefully, my dear.” He sneered at her. He hated pet names—dear, sweetie, honey—and she’d used them all.

  Liv’s upper body tensed and she whirled around, slinging a garbage bag he hadn’t seen like some sort of wrecking ball.

  Yuri batted the bag away with his right arm, grabbed her wrist with his left hand and brought the butt of the gun down hard against her temple. Liv crumpled like one of her trash bags, hitting the asphalt hard.

  He glanced around, aware of the camera watching his every move, but as far as human eyes, the small lot was relatively sheltered.

  He had seconds—maybe a minute, if he was lucky—to get this done.

  He grabbed Liv by the arm and hoisted her over his shoulder. She was heavier than she looked, but he’d handled worse.

  Yuri quickstepped across the street back to his car, popped the trunk, and dumped her inside. He glanced at the pub, but no one was giving chase yet.

  Good.

  He snapped a quick picture of Liv’s face, her head tilted back for a nice, dramatic angle. No blood though, which was good. People got a little touched in the head once blood was introduced. A nice, passed out snapshot did a lot of good for inspiring action.

  Yuri closed the trunk then climbed behind the wheel of his stolen sedan.