Identity Crisis (Blood Brothers #4)

by Manda Mellett

  Sean turns his head away; his nostrils flare as he takes in a deep breath. I watch his body tense, as he understands how he’d been set up. He’s furious. “Why the fuck did you do that? And why the fuck did you choose me? It was me you targeted, wasn’t it? You came on pretty strong.” His voice isn’t quite a shout, but loud enough to draw attention. Reaching out my hand, I rest it on his arm, willing him to calm himself. I can understand how angry he is. Mollie was no accident. Dannie had done it on purpose. Placing his hand over mine, he gives it a squeeze and continues to hold it, as though welcoming my comfort.

  “I told you, I’m a thief.” Nothing about her suggests she’s contrite in any way. “It was going to be someone that night, it had to be that night, everything told me I was ready. I was thirty-five, my biological clock was ticking, and I wanted a baby. But I didn’t need or want a man in my life.”

  “So you stole it from me.” Sean’s voice has lowered, “Why me?”

  Taking another sip of champagne, “I’d been watching you. It was obvious you’re a Dom,” she says, nonchalantly.

  “Are you a sub?” I butt in, she certainly doesn’t look like one, but then Sean had told me powerful, strong women can be subs too.

  She glances at me as though she’d forgotten I was there. “No of course not, I don’t go in for all that silly business at all. I have absolutely no desire to be controlled by, or control anyone.” Before I can query the mystery further, she carries on, “Doms, though, my dear, make the best lovers. Even in a vanilla sense. They care, you see, about the pleasure of the person they are with.” She puts down her now empty glass and waves her hand toward Sean. “And you, my love, did not disappoint in any respect. It was a fantastic night, a great way to conceive my child.”

  “Our child!” Sean growls. “And you were never going to tell me about her.”

  “No,” she confirms drily, “I didn’t think you’d ever need to know.”

  As Sean growls before going quiet, I know he’s grappling with the notion that this woman had cheated him, had made him the unknowing father of a child he might never have discovered existed. “So why put my name on the birth certificate?”

  “A forgery, my dear. So you knew who she was to you, when I arranged to have her delivered to you.”

  She’s a cold-hearted bitch, and with great difficulty, I resist the urge to slap her.

  “But what do you care?” she continues, “You’re not the type to want children. What you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you.” She sips her champagne and speaks as though she’s discussing the weather.

  “You know nothing about me, Danielle,” Sean leans forward and hisses, “You have no right to make that assumption. And if you think I’m so far from a family man, why the fuck did you leave Mollie with me like that? How could you know that I’d care for her properly?”

  “You’re a Dom; you’re wired to care. She’s a baby!” Dannie airily waves her hands as though making a point. “Anyone can look after a baby. I thought you’d find a nanny or something.”

  “Bloody hell!” Sean almost chokes the words out.

  “And I hadn’t any choice.” She shrugs her shoulders, “She’s half you. There wasn’t anyone else I could trust with her. Even if you didn’t look after her yourself, and I wasn’t expecting you to, I knew you’d do the best for her once you’d checked you were the biological father. And you did check, didn’t you?” She pauses then scoffs, “Mind you, one look should have told you. The one chance I get to have a mini-me, and she looks just like her bloody father! Just my damn luck.”

  I think both Sean and I have identical incredulous looks on our faces, but it’s Sean who asks her, “Do you give a flying fuck about her at all?”

  Now she gets angry, showing the most emotion she has so far. “Of course I do. I love her. She’s my daughter.” Leaning forward, she puts her head in her hands and just for a second I see her mask slipping. “I can’t have her taken from me. I can’t have her used against me. She needs to be protected, removed from danger. I sent her to the one person who I thought would keep her safe.” Unbelievably, a tear drops from her eye. “It doesn’t matter what happens to me, so long as my beautiful baby girl is safe.”

  Sean leans forward, legs open, his hands clasped between his knees. His eyes are fixed firmly on the beautiful, but frosty woman in front of us. When he speaks, his voice seems to have dropped an octave lower. “Why would she be taken from you? Why wouldn’t she be safe with you?”

  As though mesmerised, Danielle stills, her face fixed on his. “I’m a thief,” she starts, and from her tone, I’m certain this is the point when we’ll start to get the truth. “I stole something that I shouldn’t have done.” She breaks off, and for a brief moment, again inspects her perfectly manicured nails, picking at some invisible dirt. Then she looks up, her look sharp and certain. “I didn’t know I had it at first, it was in a wallet I’d appropriated from another man. An innocent looking thumb drive.”

  As though he’s one step ahead Sean frowns. “You looked at what was on it?”

  “It wasn’t difficult,” she shrugs. “It was encrypted, but the idiot had written the password on a piece of paper tucked behind some bank notes.”

  “And…?”

  Now she slants her body toward him, her voice lowered, and I crane forward to hear. “I hit the jackpot, Sean. It’s the hierarchy within Amir al-Farhi’s organisation.”

  “Jesus H Christ!” Sean runs his hands through his hair, and I sit up and pay attention. Amir al-Farhi is the number one terrorist wanted all over the world and responsible for horrendous attacks from the USA, Australia and the UK, to his native Arabia. “What have you done with it? Where is the information now?” Sean quick-fires questions.

  “I was going to sell it to the highest bidder, of course.”

  “You’re fucking what?” Sean almost jumps out of his seat. It’s the first time I’ve seen him this angry.

  Another shrug. “Well, a girl’s got to make a living.”

  It’s at that point I realise the charismatic exterior hides something rotten inside. If she’s telling the truth, the information she found could save lives if it was put into the proper hands.

  Rubbing his hands over his face, Sean cups his chin and throws her a look of utter disbelief. “Who are you dealing with?”

  “The UK’s SIS or MI6 as it used to be called and the CIA. The DGSC here in Paris, of course. They have a particular interest. There are a few other agencies fishing around.”

  “They’re not going to buy it from you.” Sean’s shaking his head at her naivety.

  “Well, I know that now!” Danielle smiles a strange, sad smile. “Once I understood the true value of what had come into my possession I decided to give it away for free. Don’t worry, I’ve made sure I’ve got it to the right people. I’m a thief, but not a bad person.”

  With a sigh of relief that she’d done the right thing, even though it might not have been her first decision, I see Sean relax a little. Then he asks, in his very serious voice. “Who did you give the information to? And who, exactly, are you in danger from?”

  As if she can’t believe how stupid she’s been she inhales in a deep breath and shakes her head. “You’ll find out who I gave the details to in good time. And it’s Amir al-Farhi or someone in his organisation who knows I took the thumbnail drive. I must have been caught on CCTV or something.” She lets out her breath on a sigh, “The body of the man I’d taken the wallet from turned up on the bonnet of my car. It was obviously a message, and I’ve been running ever since.”

  “Why haven’t you gone to your Embassy for protection?”

  She shakes her head and gives a small laugh, “I’ve not exactly got a clean record in the States. If I go back, I’m likely to be arrested.”

  “Surely that’s preferable to being dead?” I butt in, speaking bluntly.

  Sean’s considering her carefully, and I wonder what he’s thinking. She’s the mother of his child, but that pedigree is nothin
g to shout home about. We’re all quiet for a couple of minutes, then he starts the interrogation again. “When you sent Mollie to me, you did so completely anonymously. You regularly change the way you look, your identity, and you’re clever. If you hadn’t wanted me to find you, I probably wouldn’t have done. Or not so fast, anyway. So why, Danielle? Why bring me to Paris to meet you?”

  “I didn’t care who you were that night, you could have been anyone. But I’d kept your business card with the details, just in case they ever came in useful. When I needed someone to keep Mollie safe, I discovered more about the organisation you work for. Grade A. If I’m to stay alive I need the very best and Grade A’s reputation is second to none. Don’t worry, I can pay for your services.” Brazenly, she summons the waiter and requests another glass of champagne. I can’t understand it; this woman is on the run from one of the most frightening and dangerous men in all the world with an organisation so large it’s impossible to say who might be a member of it, and she’s sitting here in the open, flaunting herself.

  “With your track record, I doubt Grade A would want to offer you protection,” Sean speaks calmly, and a sense of relief floods over me that he doesn’t feel any personal responsibility for her, otherwise I think he’d be handling this differently. “The partners might want to hand you over to the authorities.”

  “The information I’ve found will save lives, Sean,” she justifies herself succinctly, “That will count for something.”

  Again, he stares at her, his eyes darkening as he contemplates. Then he gets to his feet. “I’m going to ring Ben Carter, my boss, Danielle, and see what he thinks of this fuck up of a situation.” He frowns, “I can’t promise anything.” He nods at me while he speaks to her, “Wait here until I come back.”

  “I just need somewhere to be safe until this all dies down, that’s not too much to ask. Surely there’s a safe house somewhere and a bodyguard you could assign to me?” And I wonder whether she’d expected Sean would offer himself and that they’d end up playing happy families. But that could still be on the cards if Ben suggests it!

  Shaking his head, Sean walks away from the table, leaving us alone.

  I’ve sat here listening to the conversation in disbelief, but not contributing much. She stole sperm from Sean which resulted in Mollie and never intended to tell him he had a daughter. How could she do that to a man? Then, on discovering vital information on a terrorist organisation, she decided to try to profit from it. In my view, she deserves everything she’s brought on herself.

  “You don’t like me, do you?”

  Realising she’s addressing me directly, it takes me no time at all to respond with the truth, “To be brutally honest, no.”

  Again she summons the waiter, and orders more champagne, then, palming her hand over the top of the glass which has just been placed in front of her she passes it across to me. “Here, drink this. You look like you need it.”

  I’m not one to turn down a glass of the very expensive elite sparkling wine, I mean, it’s not every day a girl like me gets to partake, so I take the offered drink, throwing a quick nod of thanks.

  “You like him, don’t you?” Again, it’s a straightforward question.

  I don’t want to get into this with her, whether I do or not is none of her business. Ignoring the enquiry, and raising the glass to my lips I take a long sip.

  “Does he know you want him?” she asks, curiously.

  Bloody hell, the bubbles in the champagne are making the alcohol go straight to my head. I try to open my mouth to refute her assumption that there’s anything between the father of her child and myself, but my tongue seems stuck to the roof of my mouth. She’s saying something else, but my hearing’s gone fuzzy, and when I try to concentrate, her face is shimmering in the light, colours radiating out like a kaleidoscope. I comprehend too late what’s happening. She’s bloody gone and drugged me!

  Chapter 18

  Sean

  At last, she starts to stir, and her hand goes to her forehead. I’d had to carry her up to our suite, ignoring the curious looks thrown at me as I’d taken her out of the bar. I leave her alone for a few minutes, and this is what happens. Christ!

  Shaking my head in exasperation, I cross over to the bed and gently put my hand on her shoulder. She jumps at my touch then rolls her head as though in pain, but I find it hard to summon sympathy. When she opens her eyes, I haven’t the patience to wait any longer.

  “What the fuck happened, Nessa? I come back from making a five-minute call to find you looking like you drank yourself under the table.”

  Her pupils are dilated, and her eyes are unfocused as she blinks rapidly. Then, sitting up too fast, she groans, pressing her fingers to her temples. Her face is a bit green, not a good shade with her colouring.

  “Are you going to puke?”

  She takes a moment to consider it then, very slowly and carefully, moves her head from side to side, and at last she finds her voice, it’s hoarse as though her mouth is dry. “She drugged me. It must have been in the glass of champagne she gave me.”

  And she thinks she’s going to make a field agent? Shit! “How the fuck did she manage to do that?” Tunnelling my hands through my hair in disbelief, I throw her an incredulous look.

  “I don’t know!” she huffs out. “If I’d seen her doing it, then I wouldn’t have drunk the bloody drink, would I?” She’s recovered sufficiently to manage a glare. “But why on earth did she do it?”

  “So she could disappear.” I respond, drily. “Again.” I’d returned to find Nessa slumped on the table and no sign of Danielle. Fuck, I thought Nessa had picked up I wanted her to make sure she stayed put. Ryan would have done.

  “But you were trying to see if Grade A could help her. Why wouldn’t she wait to hear the outcome of your chat with Ben?”

  I’ll allow that she’s still somewhat out of it and incapable of putting it together right now, so I give her the answer, “In case we weren’t going to help. And I returned with a gendarme or two in tow.”

  As she swings her feet off the edge of the bed, she whimpers. “My head hurts.”

  Suspecting this would be the case I’ve already got a couple of paracetamol ready and I hand them over with a glass of water. She rewards me with the beginnings of a smile.

  “Thank you.” Downing the tablets, she exhales, “I’ve cocked up again, haven’t I?”

  It’s so obvious, there’s no need for me to comment on her observation. Pleased to see her colour is starting to return to normal, I decide to bring her up to date. “Ben’s sending Hunter.”

  She takes a second to digest that information. “Hunter Wright works for the government; he’s SIS.” She knows as well as I do that that’s only supposition. Ben would know, but we underlings aren’t privy to the same level of detail as our employers. But we’ve got our suspicions, and it’s interesting that when raised, the suggestion has been met with a laugh, but never actually confirmed or denied. But if he is working undercover at Grade A, it makes him the perfect man for the job.

  “She’s a criminal.” As she says the words, she glances at me as if seeing how I’m taking it.

  I just lift my chin. “That’s most certainly the case, but all she’s admitted to is petty theft.” I walk across to the window and look out at the view of Paris spread before me. “Ben agrees with me that there’s more to it than she’s saying. I can understand her not appearing on Amir al-Farhi’s Christmas card list, but if what she’s said is true, and she’s presumably put the information in the hands of the right authorities, why would he put effort into coming after just one woman? He got his revenge on his incompetent soldier.”

  “But who did she give the thumb drive to? She didn’t tell us that.”

  My brow creases, I’ve been giving some thought to that too.

  “She doesn’t act like a frightened woman, Sean.”

  “No, I noticed that.” Danielle had been remarkably calm for someone whose life was in danger.

 
; “She’s something more than an over-privileged bored heiress.”

  I look at her sharply, pleased her mind was working the same way as mine. I’d come to that conclusion, too. Danielle needs to enlist the help of Grade A, but exactly in what capacity I don’t yet know. I suspect it’s not just to provide her with protection. And now she’s disappeared. Again.

  Of course, I’ve already checked her room at the hotel while waiting for Nessa to come around. She’s skipped without paying her bill, and all her luggage has gone, and, despite Kadar’s assurances hotel security would make sure she didn’t run, she seems to have got out from under their noses. But we hadn’t finished our conversation, and something in my gut tells me we’ll be hearing from her again very soon.

  “How’s your head?”

  Nessa looks up ruefully at my change of subject. “Throbbing.”

  A knock at the suite door interrupts our discussion. Leaving her bedroom, I cross the living area and check through the security peephole to see who could have come calling. For the second time today I see a man in the hotel livery standing outside. My hand goes to the gun that I’ve slipped into the back of my waistband as I cautiously turn the lock and pull the door open. He hands me a large bouquet of flowers. I exchange them for another handful of euros, and he disappears after throwing me a nod.

  Taking the flowers inside I carelessly place them on the side table, knowing it will be whatever has accompanied them that’s going to be more important. Opening the envelope, I extract a card, and then cannot suppress a laugh. Danielle’s got a sense of humour. I read it again, and then throw an amused look over to the woman who’s just stepping out of her bedroom, wondering how she’s going to take the invitation, or whether it might be better for me to go on my own.

  “What is it?” Nessa’s staring at the flowers. Even I have to admit they are a rather remarkable display. “Who sent the bouquet?”

  Waving my hand in the direction of the stunning blooms I hold up the card. “Danielle hasn’t wasted any time. She’s arranged a new meet with us.”