by Nic Saint
She couldn’t help but smile at the recollection of her recent union with the man who was starting to dominate not merely her body but also her heart. Had their meeting in the forest been preordained? Had fate finally smiled upon her and decided to bring the blossom of hope to adorn the tree of her future?
How odd, that Jonathan’s gambling debts would have brought Vitaly Loganov into her life. How… auspicious.
And she was just giving her mind free rein to outline a future that prominently featured Vitaly, when a voice spoke in her rear. Her mood of careless happiness was suddenly ruthlessly crushed like the fragile blossom it was.
“I see you’re enjoying the fruits of my labor, Miss Royale?”
Without turning, she stiffened, and replied, “A very fine garden, Yury. You must be so proud.”
“Oh, but I am. As I am proud of all the things that belong to me.”
She did turn now, the inflection in his voice giving her pause. She wondered if he had been standing there long, but then figured it didn’t matter. Her happiness was not something she should feel ashamed about.
“Have you lived here long?” she said in an attempt at making polite conversation.
Ignoring her question, he said, “You will find that I feel very strongly about the distinction between mine and thine, Joanna. It’s one of the reasons I love this country so much that I’ve made it my home. When I was in Russia, everything belonged to the state. And I do mean everything. No private property.” He extended his arm to gesture at his garden. “All this could have never belonged to me if I’d stayed where I was born. But now that it does, I like to protect it with my life.”
She looked up at the fierceness with which he’d spoken these words. She now saw he was staring at her with a look of indignation mingled with unmitigated hatred, and she frowned, not comprehending. “If this is about Jonathan, I assure you I had nothing to do with what he did. He never even confided in me about his plans for the hotel.”
Yury slashed the air with his hand. “Screw your ex-husband. I don’t care about him any more than I care about the men who betray me.” He suddenly turned on her. “You were there when Spartak shot my daughter, yes?”
Ram gave a sharp bark at these words, sensing danger. Joanna knelt down and scooped up the little ball of white, comforting him in her arms. Remembering Vitaly’s words, she realized she must tread very carefully now. Somehow, Yury had discovered the truth about what had happened to his daughter, and it made him furious.
“I—No, actually I wasn’t,” she returned guardedly. “All I saw was that a woman had been shot, and when I tried to help her, two men were there that I’d never seen before. They frightened me at first, but later told me who the woman was and why she was there.”
“They say you helped her—that you saved her life?”
“That—I think at the time it may have looked that way. I’m sure, though, that even without my help she would have been fine.”
He nodded his agreement. “That’s what the doctors told me. Although the arrow could have killed her if only it had been mere inches to the left.”
“I’m glad she’s going to be fine.” She spoke from the bottom of her heart.
“Thank you,” he acknowledged quietly, then told her, “It is very unusual, is it not, for a man to fall in love with a woman on such short notice? In the space of mere hours?”
Only now did she realize her mistake when telling him she’d never met Vitaly before. She slung a hand to her mouth when she noticed the look of triumph he gave her.
“It is as I suspected. Vitaly told me how you met, and the story struck me as unlikely in the extreme. He would have told me about you if that had been the case, or I would have heard it from others.” He folded his hands behind his back and started circling her, sizing her up as if she were an adversary he was poised to go into battle with.
“I—I don’t know why I said that. I meant, of course, that I’d never seen Spartak before. Until Vitaly introduced us, that is.” She stopped when she saw the tiny smile curl up his lips, his gray eyes seeing right through her.
“You know one of the secrets of success, Joanna? It is the capacity to detect a lie. Some people have called me a human lie detector, and sometimes I think there must be some truth to the matter.” He pointed at his face. “It is in the eyes, almost all of the time. Some people watch the lips when a person speaks. I only look at the eyes. They never lie, even though the lips might.”
“I’m sorry. I never meant to cause any trouble,” she stammered with a sinking heart.
“And yet you did,” he countered. He shook his head. “What are we going to do with you, mh? Your husband still owes me five hundred thousand dollars, and Vitaly must have thought using you as leverage might prove efficacious in retrieving it. I’m afraid he was mistaken. A man like Jonathan doesn’t care about anybody other than himself. Even if I had dangled you before him, he would have remained hidden, not caring one bit what happened to his dear ex-wife.”
She raised her head, the mention of Jonathan making her indignant. “Then why did you send your men for me?”
He held up his finger like a school teacher explaining something to the class. “That is the question, is it not? The million dollar question. Let me just tell you that I have my reasons.” He extended his hand and took hers in a tight grip, ignoring Ram’s sharp yip. “Now if you would be so kind as to follow me? There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
With trepidation, she heeded his request, his fingers enclosing hers like an iron band. “Where are we going?” she finally asked when they were nearing the house.
“We’re going to say hello to your father, Joanna.”
At this, she gasped in shock and tried to tear away from him. In response, he dug his fingers into her arm and yanked her along. “Not a word, or I will have both you and Vitaly killed.”
“You wouldn’t,” she exclaimed, panic rising in her chest.
He jerked her around, so she was facing him, then thundered, “Tell me, Joanna. Do you think I am lying?”
A single glance told her he was not.
CHAPTER 18
There was something about the way he was eying her that felt… off. Even though he said all he wanted was to have a quick word with her father, she knew better than to expect him to honor his word.
“You won’t hurt Vitaly? Or my father?”
“No, Joanna. I would never hurt Vitaly. Of course I wouldn’t. He’s my best friend.”
“But you just said—“
“I was lying. Couldn’t you tell?”
He laughed lightly, but she knew what she’d seen in those treacherous eyes. Menace. And death. He hadn’t lied when he said he would kill Vitaly. He would do it. In a heartbeat.
He handed her the phone and ordered her to call her father. Reluctantly she punched in the number, trepidation making her hand shake. When her dad’s familiar voice rumbled on the other end, she sighed in relief. “Dad? It’s me. Look, there’s someone here who wants to talk to you.”
Before her dad had the chance to utter a word, Yury snatched the phone from her fingers. “Mr. Mayor. So glad we could finally have this chat.”
She sat back, then, and watched the gangster spar with the politician, surmising quite correctly that the two would have a lot to discuss. Her father, mayor of Lincoln and one of the most crooked politicians who had ever walked the face of the earth, had been in the pocket of organized crime from the moment he’d taken office, which was but one of the reasons she hadn’t talked to the man in three years.
The other reason was the way he’d treated her mother. With neglect and even outright scorn each time she tried to nudge him back onto the straight and narrow or try to interest him in the family he’d seemingly forgotten about. And then when Mom died, the man hadn’t even shed a single tear.
With disgust, she watched Yury negotiate some new deal or other, and wondered briefly why he’d needed her presence to talk to her father. He probably had him o
n speed dial as far as she knew.
Unwilling to get into the middle of one of her dad’s shady deals, she turned away, and started for the door when a voice rang out as sharp as a knife planted in the back, calling her back.
She’d just placed her fingers on the door handle when it turned of its own accord, and Vitaly walked in. Surprised to find her in Yury’s office, his eyes shot her questions his mouth couldn’t voice.
“Yury wanted to speak to my father,” she said innocently, hoping it was enough for him.
Behind them, Yury was still engaged in conversation with Paul, and he waved them both in, then pointed to two chairs. Unable to ignore the command, they took a seat. Joanna was surprised at the change that had come over Vitaly. He looked drawn now, and his face had taken on an ashen tinge. Something had greatly upset him, she immediately surmised. Had shaken him to the core.
He sat bolt upright, back straight, his eyes hard and unrelenting as they fell upon Yury. The latter didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, it was almost as if he relished in the look of anger Vitaly was directing at him.
“Thanks, Paul,” he concluded the conversation. “Yes. I’ll tell her you said hi. Sure. Nice to do business with you too. Bye-bye.”
As he replaced the phone, he folded his hands on the desk, and let his eyes slide over them, a look of triumph on his face. “You’ll be satisfied to learn that your father has agreed to all my terms, Joanna,” he began.
At these words, Vitaly’s jaw fell. “Your father? Paul Royale is your father?”
“He is, and I’m proud to say he and I will be business partners at last.” He reached for a cigar from a box on his desk. “And all thanks to you, Joanna. You might say your presence here has persuaded the old man.”
She realized now why he’d made her call her father. It was a threat. Do business with me, or your daughter is dead. She gasped in shock and was on her feet in a flash. “You blackmailed him!”
“Sit down!” he barked. “You too,” he added for Vitaly’s sake. The latter had also risen to his feet. But whereas Joanna instantly plunked down, Vitaly remained standing.
“You never told me you needed Joanna for this. If I would have known—“
“You would have done what?” Yury yelled, color rising to his cheeks. He pointed the cigar at his lieutenant. “You lied to me, Vitaly. You told me you had known this woman for weeks. That you’d gotten engaged long before. Now it turns out you never even laid eyes on her before yesterday!”
“I was trying to protect her. You would have done the same.”
The mobster reared back, feigning surprise. “Oh? Now you’re telling me what I would and would not do? You’re getting more and more out of line, Vitaly. And let me tell you straight away, this new habit of yours of lying to my face? I don’t like it!”
“You told me you needed her to convince her husband to pay up. You never said anything about Mayor Royale.”
Yury shrugged. “Since when do I need to explain every detail of my operation to you?”
Vitaly pounded the desk with his fist. “Since you made me your partner!”
This was news to Joanna. He’d never told her he and Yury were partners.
“Well, the detail about the mayor might have slipped my mind,” said Yury easily.
Vitaly’s eyes narrowed, and Joanna could feel the rising tension between the two men. This conversation was headed for an explosion, she knew, and she wished she was anywhere but here.
“What about the detail that you slaughtered Spartak, huh? That also slip your mind, Yury?”
The news startled Joanna, and she let out a whimper. God, no. Had Yury killed Spartak? It wasn’t possible.
Yury merely lifted his shoulders. “The man almost killed Yana. Should I let him get away with it?”
“That was an accident and you know it!” thundered Vitaly.
Yury’s eyes suddenly flashed dangerously, and he growled, “Back off, Vitaly. I’ll only allow so much insolence and insubordination from you. Spartak was treading dangerous ground when he started fucking my daughter!”
The words rang through the room like the lash of a whip, and both Joanna and Vitaly were silent for a moment, then Vitaly reached out across the desk, and dealt Yury a vicious blow that sent the man reeling back into his chair, staring up at his lieutenant with a look in which surprise and rage were nicely blended.
“Come, Joanna. We are out of here,” Vitaly said in a low voice.
Darting a quick look at a flabbergasted Yury, Joanna was out of her chair and following in Vitaly’s footsteps in a flash. She just had time to scoop up Ram, and then he took her hand and yanked her along, and the next moment, they were racing down the hallway, en route to the front door.
CHAPTER 19
As they were streaking past white marble statues of Greek gods and paintings of angels fighting demons, Ram yapping up a storm, Joanna briefly felt a surge of hope—hope that they would be able to break free from the iron grip of the madman who owned this chateau—owned them.
They hurtled across the hallway’s white marble floor, her small hand firmly grasped in Vitaly’s oversized mitt, and when the front door came into view, she knew they were going to make it. They were going to be free at last. Free from the dictator who ran this town like a madman of old.
But then a beefy man stepped into view, blocking their path, and fear soon trumped the exhilaration of their mad dash for freedom. From all corners of the place, men suddenly emerged, their expressions grim, their hands tightening around weapons, their intent obvious.
Her heart pounding, both from the exertion and the terror of seeing their way out blocked by half a dozen of Yury’s men, she gasped for breath, and when Vitaly abruptly changed course, and now yanked her along to the staircase, she slipped and fell, smashing her hip to the unyielding floor. Helping her to her feet, he half carried, half propelled her along, and then they were up and flying along the banister, fleeing to safety.
The moment their feet pounded on the landing, her scrambled brain trying to figure out where they were headed, she knew it was to no avail. Yury’s place was filled with his men, and wherever they turned, they were outnumbered and outgunned.
A door opened as they streaked past, and Joanna found herself briefly setting eyes on the same girl she’d met that morning in the garden.
“Vitaly?” the girl uttered, looking as startled as she was feeling. “What’s going on?”
But then they were out of hallway and had reached a set of French windows looking out onto a balcony. Vitaly flung the windows wide with a flick of his wrist, and they were out in the open. Without hesitation, he slung one leg over the balustrade and reached out an inviting hand.
Horrified, she cast a look down. Ivy had covered this part of the back wall over the years, but that was hardly a sturdy ladder to reach the ground.
“Come. We need to go now!” he urged, and then swung his other leg over and was gripping the ivy tight with one hand, the other still reaching out to her.
A crash behind them decided her. Quickly stepping over the balustrade, holding on tight to the parapet, she lowered herself beside him, then handed him the little doggie, who looked about as frightened as she was feeling, and then they were half falling, half climbing down to the ground below. Vitaly jumped clear of the ivy, set down Ram, and held out his hands.
“Jump!” he called out, and it was a testament to her faith in him that she did, indeed, take the plunge and jumped into his arms.
He deftly caught her, and her face was briefly level with his, his eyes giving her the strength she needed to go through with this mad escape attempt.
Then they were running full out along the garden path they’d taken that morning, past the garden house, and then they were out in the open, haring off at great speed, Ram having a blast, running as fast as his little feet could carry him.
They had to run, she knew, for Yury would never let them go. After the blow Vitaly had dealt the man, they were both dead meat.
<
br /> Her breath coming in gasps, a stitch in her side warning her to slow down, she nevertheless gritted her teeth and pushed her legs and pumped her arms. They had to keep going—couldn’t slow down—not now when they were so close.
“There is another domain on the other side of that fence,” Vitaly explained as he pointed to the perimeter of Yury’s garden heaving into view. “Once we’re across, we’ll be safe. The other place belongs to a friend. He will protect us.”
Hope against hope once again surged in her bosom. Could it be? Could they escape Yury’s clutches and be free? Then her eyes flicked to a camera mounted on top of the fence, and she briefly wondered if Yury was watching them now. She was almost certain he was. Then they were at the fence, and suddenly a gunshot rang out, and she cried out in fear and shock.
“Let’s go!” exclaimed Vitaly, and grabbed her by the waist and practically hurled her up and over, then pressed Ram in her hands. She lowered the doggie to the other side, then gripped the top of the fence tight, and watched how three men came running up behind them, all carrying automatic weapons.
“Stop right there, Vitaly!” one of them screamed, then fired another salvo into the air.
They don’t dare to shoot him, she thought. He’s been their captain for so long, they don’t dare kill him! And as Vitaly paid them no mind and continued to climb the fence, her hope was borne out by the facts, as the three men aimed their guns but failed to pull the trigger.
They were going to make it! They really were going to—
Then one of the men did fire, and Vitaly cried out as the bullet tore into his back.
“Vitaly!”
She reached out a hand, and he took it, gritting his teeth, and continued to work his way up, but then another bullet hit right next to his face, and he lost his purchase and fell to the ground below.
“Keep going!” he yelled. “Keep going, Joanna.”
“I won’t leave you! I won’t!”
Starting to climb back down, she was struck by the cry of anguish that escaped his lips. “Honey,” he said, trying to keep his voice level in spite of the pain he must feel. “You have to leave me. Save yourself. You don’t know what that animal is capable of. He won’t merely kill you—he’ll…” he shook his head, the images the thought provoked too painful to bear.
