Harper's Finale

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Harper's Finale Page 1

by F. C. Clark




  Copyright © 2020 F. C. Clark

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

  Matador

  9 Priory Business Park,

  Wistow Road, Kibworth Beauchamp,

  Leicestershire. LE8 0RX

  Tel: 0116 279 2299

  Email: [email protected]

  Web: www.troubador.co.uk/matador

  Twitter: @matadorbooks

  ISBN 978 1838598 129

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Matador is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

  To my Mr C

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  34 Weeks And One Day…

  Harper Sutton

  Acknowledgments

  I have so many people to thank, not only for their support, but also for believing in me.

  My amazing family have been by my side through the ups and downs, laughter and tears, moments of ‘can I do this’ and moments of doubt. I could not have done it without you. In addition, my friends – who are my lifeline, my extended family – who have held my hand along the way.

  Thank you to all the readers of Harper’s Fate and Harper’s Fortune, your continued support in the love story of Kate and Luke has been overwhelming.

  Thank you for all your shares and likes on Facebook, I am indebted to you all. Thank you also for supporting me through Instagram, where I have shared the Harper’s series and also met some incredible women – you know who you are, and I am so grateful for your continued support and friendship.

  This journey would not have been possible without Erica and Sophie from EKC, and Luke and Brendan from FMC – did I mention I have a new book?! Finally, Jane Hammett, my amazing editor, who has taught me so many lessons that will stay with me forever.

  Chase your dreams…

  Kate Harper and Luke Sutton have been on a wild journey, taking myself and my readers with them… Maybe one day they will return, watch this space.

  1

  A humming echoes through my head. I open my eyes and try to focus, but I’m completely disorientated.

  ‘Boss, she’s awake!’ a man yells.

  Slowly I begin to absorb my surroundings. Shit. I’m on a jet – a private jet similar to Luke’s, the same plane we took to Venice five days ago to get married.

  ‘Pleased you could join us, Miss Harper – I mean, Mrs Sutton.’

  My skin crawls. I know who’s speaking. A short, balding man stands in front of me. I close my eyes. This isn’t real. It can’t be. A flashback to the front door bursting open at Sandbanks almost stops me from breathing. I open my eyes to see my worst nightmare: Philip Cooper.

  He leers over me, wearing an expression that scares me. This has to do with my inherited Bagrov and Cooper shares. It must be. I think back to a few hours ago, when Alexis Cooper told me that her father, Philip, planted the bomb at Luke’s house in South Kensington that almost killed him six months ago.

  But where is he taking me? I’m no use to him. Unless he’s heard that Luke is planning to take over my shares?

  I try to think. Would Luke have instructed his lawyers to start buying my Bagrov and Cooper shares? It’s too soon for anyone to have found out. Keep your mouth shut, Kate Harper, goes around and around in my head. No problem. I am silenced by fear.

  He looks at his watch. ‘One hour, then your fate – and my fortune – will be revealed. Let’s just say your finale will be… memorable.’

  I look around the jet. ‘Where are you taking me?’

  ‘At last she speaks,’ he says. ‘Have you ever wondered if that pretty little mouth is what gets you into trouble?’ He runs his fingers along my jawline, brushing my lower lip with his thumb. I turn my head and push his hand away.

  ‘Don’t touch me,’ I whisper.

  With no warning he grabs hold of my long blonde hair and yanks my head towards him.

  ‘I’ll touch you if I want.’

  Fuck – this is wrong. My dread is spiralling out of control.

  ‘Daddy,’ a voice murmurs from the far corner of the plane.

  Philip releases my hair and turns. I look across the plane. It’s Alexis Cooper, Philip’s daughter. He walks towards her.

  ‘You promised me no one would get hurt,’ she says.

  ‘I told you to sit there and be quiet.’ His harsh voice echoes through my entire body.

  She bows her head, and her short dark hair curtains her face. This isn’t the superbitch Alexis I know. She looks scared. Yes, she’s my enemy, but earlier today she tried to save me. What am I missing? He wants my late mother’s company, I get that, but why are we both here?

  ‘You nearly killed Luke,’ I say.

  ‘I assume my daughter has been shooting her mouth off.’

  He raises his hand and strikes Alexis hard across the face. Her head hits the aircraft window.

  Holy shit, this is his daughter! Our love–hate relationship is far from my mind as I run to her defence. ‘Leave her alone!’

  Philip shoves me hard in the chest, causing me to fall.

  ‘Sit the fuck down, unless you want some of this too.’ He raises his hand threateningly.

  I scurry to my seat, my body shaking and my heart beating frantically. I push up the cuff of Luke’s sweatshirt and grip what lies beneath it. My birthday gift: a watch with a built-in tracking device. For the first time, I am grateful for Luke’s need to control everything in his life. I close my eyes as I remember his last words: Stay alive, Kate. I will find you.

  Please find me, Luke.

  The rest of the journey feels like an eternity. At least I’m still alive. After a bumpy landing, the aircraft taxis to a halt. My fate awaits, Philip Cooper said. What did he mean?

  Philip leaves his seat and heads down the gangway. ‘Tie their hands together,’ he orders.

  ‘Yeah, boss.’ The man dressed in black answers and pulls my arms. ‘Don’t move.’ He begins to bind my wrists. I look across at Alexis. Another man is tying her wrists.

  The men pull us towards the exit. I squint in the sunshine, and look around. Crap. It looks familiar. We’re surrounded by barren wasteland. No passport control. It’s obviously a tiny airport – if it’s even an airport. Reminds me of when I met my elusive Russian father eight months ago. Where the hell are we?

  Philip rallies his troops while Alexis and I stand behind him with our guards. She looks at me then bows her head. Undoubtedly Philip’s violent behaviour started long before today, and I now feel a different emotion towards the wo
man I have despised since we met: empathy.

  ‘You all have your location points? As you know, the exchange will not take place until tomorrow lunchtime. It needs to run smoothly. Walsh, check in with the team at the house,’ Philip bellows.

  A tall, dark-haired man steps forward. ‘All sorted.’

  ‘Good. Let the fun commence,’ Philip says and smiles.

  Fun! Furthermore, what exchange?

  ‘Move,’ the guard says, yanking on my arm and dragging me towards one of four black 4×4s waiting in a row. Alexis is taken to another car.

  ‘Oi, eyes forward,’ the guard says and pulls my arms.

  In my mind, I can hear Luke’s voice – not my husband’s normal voice, but his military voice. Commander Sutton. Stay calm and think on your feet, Harper. With that thought, I see my first clue: the number plate of the 4×4. Jesus Christ. Russia may well be in my blood, but I’ve had enough visits here to last a lifetime. This is my second, and I pray it’s my last.

  The man opens the passenger door. ‘Get in,’ he says. Without hesitation I climb in.

  ‘Scoot over.’

  I scramble across and he slides in next to me. Another man is already sitting behind the steering wheel. I scan the area, but there is nothing for miles. Then the front passenger door opens and Philip Cooper gets in.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he says to the driver.

  ‘Where are we going?’ I ask.

  ‘Make sure Walsh leads the convoy. Follow close behind. I don’t want any gaps left for a possible intervention. Got it?’

  Intervention?

  ‘Yeah,’ the driver responds.

  I take a deep breath. ‘I know we’re in Russia.’

  Philip ignores me and checks his phone. ‘The lodge is ready. We need to stick to the route we planned.’

  ‘My real father lives here – in Russia. He’s ruthless.’ This isn’t a coincidence – I’m sure of it. ‘He will know I’m here.’ I pray he is watching me.

  Philip looks over his shoulder. ‘Shut her up.’ He waves his hand to the man holding my arm, who clamps both hands around my throat, squeezing my neck and compressing my windpipe. Holy shit, this is it! My legs thrash against the seat and I slap his hands away. I try to breathe but I can feel my lungs labouring. I can’t breathe…

  ‘Enough! I need her alive, which is a fucking shame.’

  He lets go. I cough and splutter, gasping for air. My hands touch my neck, which feels bruised. I fight back tears, wanting to appear strong, not terrified that I was seconds away from death. Please find me, Luke.

  ‘Cover her head,’ Philip says, looking at me. ‘I suggest you keep quiet, bitch, or you will have a repeat performance – and this time I won’t be so fucking nice.’

  The burly man next to me picks up a black cloth from the floor and slides it over my head. I take a deep breath, hoping to calm my trembling body. I think of Luke: what would he do? Other than kick their fucking arses? Think, Kate, think.

  Despite being terrified, I begin to make mental notes on the journey. We took a left fairly soon after leaving the airport, and since then the car has travelled at a reasonable speed – maybe fifty miles per hour. The last turn was a sharp right onto what feels like an unmade road. After some time, the car begins to slow.

  ‘Boss?’ the driver says.

  ‘Over there – park in the garage and make sure the other vehicles are covered. Just use your brain,’ Philip orders.

  Moments later, my door opens and someone yanks at my hands. I step out of the car, still in complete darkness. My legs feel weak, and I stumble.

  ‘Jesus, take off her fucking hood,’ Philip yells.

  The cloth is pulled off. I remain silent as my eyes adjust to the light.

  The car is parked in a large wooden outbuilding surrounded by trees. Another vehicle arrives. The guard drags me towards the entrance of a large, single-storey building. Philip is ahead, talking to some tough-looking men. I hear footsteps, and turn. It’s Alexis.

  The burly man leads me through the rear entrance into the building. My initial thoughts are that someone lives here, although it is incredibly dated and a little rundown. Nonetheless, it looks like someone’s home – and I’m certain it doesn’t belong to Philip.

  ‘You know where to take them.’

  I’m scared. What does he mean?

  His eyes meet mine, then he turns and walks off.

  The guard almost yanks my arms out of their sockets. I fall to my knees.

  ‘Get up, bitch,’ the man hisses.

  Bitch? I’ll give him bitch. Christ, I wish Luke was here.

  We walk down a corridor and stop outside a door. As I run through potential exit strategies, two issues face me: first, this is the only door along the long corridor and, second, an opportunity to escape is unlikely. The burly man unlocks the door and pulls me inside a cold, sterile room. It’s roughly thirty foot square, with a long, narrow window in the far corner, plus a black wrought iron bed and a few wooden chairs.

  Within seconds Alexis joins me.

  ‘Sit on the chair,’ the guard orders. Alexis is made to do the same. My guard produces a knife, cuts the rope around my wrists, and reties them to the rear of the chair and my legs to the front. He then does the same to Alexis.

  ‘Go and tell Cooper they’re waiting. I’m going to take a piss. I’ll meet you out the front.’

  Waiting – for what?

  He closes the door. I hear the sound of the key in the lock, then silence.

  My head bows as I swallow the lump of fear in my throat.

  ‘Please tell me you know what the hell is going on?’ I look down at the front legs of the chair, hoping to see a frayed edge of rope or a sharp piece of wood. My hands begin to explore – and get nothing except friction burn. ‘Shit! This is seriously fucked up.’ I shake my head and blink hard to stop myself crying.

  ‘Alexis.’

  Nothing. She remains silent.

  ‘Jesus, Alexis, bloody answer me – what the hell is going on? I think your dad is going to—’ I take a deep breath. ‘Alexis, look at me.’

  Her eyes meet mine.

  ‘We need to find a way out of here.’

  ‘What’s the point? We’re in the middle of nowhere. He’ll be one step ahead of us – he always is.’

  ‘We are going to get out of here! Try to loosen the rope. Scrape it against your chair.’ My feet work hard. ‘Alexis, copy me.’

  Her eyes are empty – and for good reason. How can he do this to his daughter?

  ‘Alexis, please try.’

  She nods and begins to mimic my actions.

  ‘That’s it – keep rubbing against the wood.’

  We both work at my plan – if nothing else, it distracts us from the here and now. I look across at the woman I have detested for so long, and the evidence is shining like the North Star: she came to me because she loved my husband. Maybe she has never stopped loving him.

  ‘What does he want with us?’

  She shakes her head and continues to scrape the rope. This is another first. Alexis Cooper – silent.

  ‘Why are we in Russia?’

  Her eyes lock on mine. ‘Russia!’

  ‘Yeah, I recognised the number plates.’

  She takes a deep breath. ‘I – I don’t know.’

  ‘Jesus, Alexis, we need to get out of here.’

  ‘Optimistic, Kate.’

  ‘I’ll go with desperate Kate and a little optimism. I heard your dad talking about an exchange. Do you know what he’s exchanging?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Fathers can be shit. My dad abandoned me – and, strangely enough, he tied me to a chair. Déjà vu.’

  The sound of the key in the lock stops us dead. It triggers a cold rush of panic through my body, which heightens when the door handle turns.


  ‘Ladies, are you bonding?’ Philip says, strolling in and locking it behind him.

  He walks slowly, circling our chairs while drinking from a crystal tumbler. He has a plan, I’m certain. He collects a chair from the far corner of the room and places it in front of me. He sits, resting one foot on his knee, and downs his drink before placing the tumbler on the floor.

  He smirks. God, I hate him more than I hate any other human being on the planet. ‘I suspect you have many questions racing through that pretty little head of yours.’

  The scales of liberty rock back and forth. Do I answer? No. I draw my lips inwards.

  ‘Silence.’ He smirks. ‘Like I said, this is something you should learn to do more often, but after tomorrow my problem, which is you, will no longer be. You mentioned your father, Ivor Varizin. He’s a popular man. The problem with popularity is it can bring enemies to your doorstep – and some enemies seek revenge.’ He leans back in the chair, relishing the clear rise of fear inside me. ‘Strangely, you are worth more than I imagined.’

  My eyes flit to Alexis’s. She looks confused. This is news to her too.

  ‘I struck a deal with Chekhol, Yura Chekhol. Does the name mean anything to you?’

  I remain expressionless. I haven’t got a bloody clue.

  ‘As luck would have it, he contacted me, and for whatever reason he wants to use you to hurt your father. I need you away from Bagrov and Cooper – two birds, one stone. So you will sign your shares over to me before you meet your fate.’ He sneers.

  God, I hate him.

  ‘Getting married was not a wise decision, Kate. It means Sutton will have some control over your fortune and my business. No, no, no, not very smart. You could say it was the final nail in your coffin.’ He chuckles coldly.

  My breathing quickens.

  He stands and walks behind me, placing his hands on either side of my face. I try to turn away from his touch. His grip tightens and he brushes his rough, bristly cheek against my face.

  ‘No, you will be still,’ he whispers before he sweeps his tongue across my jaw. Bile rises to my mouth. I close my eyes to rid myself of his touch and the smell of alcohol that lingers on his breath.

 

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