Gazing at Elle stretched out beside me in a relaxed pose, I lean over, brushing my lips on the velvety skin of her shoulder. “Beautiful, I have to go now. Cecil is going to deliver some documents later this morning, okay? I’ll let security know.”
“Uh-huh.” She half-nods, and I press a kiss in her hair, breathing in her sweet exotic scent. God, how great would it be to wake up beside her like this every single morning. To kiss her, to feel her, to hold her. To know that she is always there for me. I can’t wait to go back home—our home.
Carefully sliding off the bed, I make my way to the bathroom. I take a quick shower, dash out of the suite, and take the public elevator down to the lobby. A limo is waiting for me at the hotel’s entrance, its driver doubling as my bodyguard—Alex insisted on it. When I arrive at the morgue, I am let right into a refrigerated room where a long metal table stands at its center. On it lies a body covered with a crisp white sheet.
A female police officer is scribbling on a notepad. She looks up when I enter—it’s Ying.
“Morning, Ryder. You’re feeling okay?”
Nodding, I slowly approach the table. “I’m good. So you’ve got him?”
“We think so, yeah. He’s a known figure in organ trade circles. The past year he’s been heading the Chau Ho Yee gang. Under his leadership they’ve become a lot more aggressive. Previously the gang offered victims money, but now they’ve resorted to kidnapping people on the street. They even targeted specific people for the particular organs they needed.”
I raise my brow. “But why in the world would they want me?”
“We haven’t figured that out yet.” She gives a one-shouldered shrug. “Perhaps because you’re American. Perhaps they thought your clean, high-quality organs could fetch more on the black market.”
Scoffing, I shake my head. “That doesn’t make sense. Wouldn’t they know I’m worth much more than the few thousand they can get for my organs?”
Ying wags her finger. “A kidney alone is worth a hundreds of thousands to the right buyer. Selling all your organs would probably earn them a million bucks or so. But I agree with you, there’s more to this than meets the eye.” Gingerly, she picks up the edge of the white sheet that covers the body.
I take a small step backward. “It’s a real shame he’s dead. Who knows if I’ll find the answers to all my questions.”
“Hopefully we’ll find out more in the course of our investigation.” Ying lifts the sheet a few inches. “Ready?”
I nod.
The sheet slides off, revealing the dead body.
No. I blink, and blink again.
This isn’t Michael—it’s Flat Face.
“That’s not him.”
With furrowed eyebrows, Ying returns the sheet back over his body, but leaves his face clear for me to scrutinize further. “Are you sure? According to our sources, he’s heading the gang. He was found unconscious in a room that we think was used to perform surgeries.”
Reluctantly, I step closer to my tormentor of the past few days. “I do know him. He was definitely one of them. But he isn’t the mastermind behind it all. That’s Michael.”
Shaking her head, Ying flicks through the pages in her notepad.
I jerk the sheet up to cover Flat Face up again—the sight of him makes me sick. “How did he die?”
Still engrossed in her notepad, Ying says, “They said it was probably from a heart attack as well as smoke inhalation. He was already dead when we got him out. The autopsy will give us a conclusive cause of death.”
A heart attack? It didn’t look as if he was about to drop dead. Unless…
“Just before I lost consciousness, I injected him with a liquid form of Viagra. I wonder if that would have triggered it.”
Looking up, she shrugs. “Who knows? We’ll have to wait for the coroner’s findings. But you were lucky he was out cold, otherwise Elle would never have been able to get you out of that room. And you would’ve ended up on one of these tables, too.”
“True.” I gaze down at the floor, feeling a squeeze in my heart. Elle risked her life to save me, even though she must have known about the video at the time. She really is something—and she’s mine. I’ll never let anything happen to her again. And that means going after who’s really behind this.
“What about Michael?” I say. “He admitted to me that he was behind it, that he didn’t work with anyone else. You have to go after him.”
“You mentioned him before, but we haven’t apprehended anyone by that name.” Ying opens the door. “Tell you what, let’s go to the station. We’ll go through every single person we found on the scene and if that doesn’t yield any results, we’ll do a character sketch.”
The walk to the police station only takes us a few minutes. Ying leads me into her tiny office, where we go through picture after picture, but none of them remotely resembles evil personified, Michael. She even organizes a quick line-up, again to no avail. As a last-ditch effort, I work with an artist to produce a sketch, even though I’m doubtful the charcoal drawing will result in any leads.
Just before I leave, Ying meets me at the front desk. “I’ll let you know if we have any progress with finding Michael. In the meantime, just go back to the hotel and have a rest. I’ll call you.”
I ask her what’s the been at the forefront of my mind ever since I woke up in the hospital. “How much longer do we have to stay in Hong Kong? When can we fly home?”
Her head tilted, Ying presses her finger into her cheek. “Give it a couple of days. I think we’ll have a good lead by then. When you’re back in the States, we’ll stay in touch. I’ll keep you posted on what’s happening here.”
We shake hands and say goodbye before I get back into the limo that is waiting for me at the curb. I have hardly told my driver-bodyguard to return to the hotel when my cell starts ringing.
“Cecil, hey. How’re you doing?” I adopt the most upbeat tone I can muster. He must be calling about the contractual agreement he said he’d drop off.
“I’m well, I’m well, my friend. It’s wonderful to hear from you. I heard about that terrible ordeal you’ve been through. I was worried for you. You’re lucky you made it out alive.”
“Well, we almost didn’t. If Officer Ying hadn’t found us, both Elle and I would have been dead.”
“She told me how close it was.”
“Yeah.” I let out a sigh. I was so close to losing it all. And if that had happened, what I’d regret most is not losing my life, but losing the chance of living my life with Elle.
I clear my throat. “So, you’re working with the police, right?”
“I am. Apparently some of our car club members were behind your abduction. But thankfully none of them are investors in our resort.”
I scoff. “I should hope not. I wouldn’t want to deal with those assholes.”
“I can imagine.” Cecil laughs. “Listen, I’d like to meet with you again to discuss some of the details of our project. Are you free to see me today?”
“Sure. We could meet at my hotel. Unless you’ve dropped off the papers already.”
“Papers?” He pauses for an instant. “What do you mean?”
I frown. “Didn’t you send me a text message earlier?”
“No, I didn’t send you any texts.”
What the hell? Cecil’s name came up on the screen—no doubt about it.
“You sure? The message definitely came from your number.”
“I’m positive. I didn’t even know if you still had your phone—that’s why I’m calling you now instead of sending you a message.”
A disturbing thought crosses my mind. Someone could have used his cell without him knowing it.
“Where were you this morning?” I ask.
“I got up and had breakfast downstairs, in the same cafe I always do.”
“Did you leave your cell unattended?”
“No.”
That’s strange. How could anyone send a text without touching his cell?
“If that’s the case, someone must have hijacked your cell number somehow and used it to send me a text.”
“What exactly did it say?”
“It said you’d bring by the resort agreement and some other papers to the hotel.”
“What?” Alarm seeps into his voice. “The contract isn’t even ready yet. It’s still with my lawyer.”
My heart skips a beat, then starts racing up until it pounds painfully against my ribs. If Cecil didn’t send me the text, then who did? Someone who made a special effort to break into his cell phone—for what? To deliver fictitious papers. Papers I told Elle to accept while I am away.
Oh my God.
Elle—she’s in danger.
Chapter 17
Elle
It feels so, so good.
Warm rivulets of water are gliding down my skin, soft as a caress. It reminds me of the night we spent together. How blissful it felt to sleep in Ryder’s strong arms again.
And this morning—every touch, every caress told me over and over again how much he loves me. With every word, any doubts I may have had fade away, disintegrates until there is nothing left but an all-encompassing love for him. That’s what he does to me, always—when I’m with him, I forget everything.
As the water glides down my body, it washes away the troubles of the past few days. I’ve been given a new chance, a chance to start anew. A chance for me to admit to myself that all I need in life is him. And that means making a commitment. I tip my head back, letting the warm droplets roll down my face. When Ryder returns from the police station, I will tell him. And I can’t wait to see the smile on his gorgeous face when I do.
I am still daydreaming about his reaction as I switch off the shower and step into my towel. But my musings are broken by a sound, an insistent ringing in the distance—the doorbell. Damn, it must be Cecil delivering the papers. From a handrail I grab the T-shirt Ryder slept in and yank it over my head; it comes halfway down my thighs.
The bell rings again, and I yell, “Hold on!” before rushing to the door. Carefully standing behind it, I turn the handle. As I wrap my head around the door, it is not Cecil, but an overweight Chinese man wearing a cap. He looks vaguely familiar, but after encountering so many Asian faces in the past weeks, I can’t remember where I have seen him.
The man lifts up a brown legal-size envelope marked with Ryder’s name in thick, black capital letters.
“Elle O’Halloran? I have some documents for Mr De Luca from Mr Fong.”
I hold out my hand, ensuring the door keeps my body concealed. “I’ve been expecting it. Thanks.”
I reach out to take it from him, but before I can take it, he withdraws his hand.
“Mr Fong asked me to go through a few things, point out some important clauses. Is it okay for me to come in?” I’m surprised at how well he speaks English, complete with British accent.
“Mr De Luca is out right now. So just leave the papers with me, and he can go through them over the phone.”
The man shakes his head furiously. “No, no. It’s easy, it won’t take long. Mr Fong just wants to make sure he sees the important clauses.” A look of despair in his eyes, he puts his hands together in supplication. “Please, Miss. Mr Fong insisted. He’ll get upset with me if I don’t go through it with you.”
I touch my throat. “I don’t know.”
Ryder told me not to leave the suite, but he didn’t mention letting anyone in. I suppose it should be safe enough, considering the stringent safety measures he’s put in place.
I raise my eyebrows to the security guard down the hall, who nods back at me. “He’s clear.”
I sigh. “Okay then.”
Opening the door wider, I let him in. He walks ahead of me to the dining room, where he places the envelope on the table.
I say, “I don’t think I can be of any help. I don’t know anything about his business.”
“Don’t worry. It’s really simple, Miss O’Halloran.”
“You can call me Elle. Sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.”
“Mike Han.”
I shake his fat, sweaty hand, releasing it quickly and wiping it on my back. “Good to meet you. So, what do you have to show me?”
He opens the envelope and takes out a folder containing a stack of papers. “These are the documents outlining the plans for the new resort in Nevada, as well as the agreement that needs signing. There are just a few clauses that Mr Fong wants Mr De Luca to pay special attention to. He’s marked them. I’ll go through the document—”
He covers his mouth with his hand to muffle a cough. But it doesn’t let up, and his broad face reddens as the coughing intensifies.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
Nodding, he clutches his hand to his chest and continues to cough. “Can I—can I—?” He points at his throat and then at the kitchen.
I leap backward. “Yeah, of course, sure. I’ll get you a glass of water.”
With long strides, I rush to the kitchen and open up the cabinets in search of a glass. Behind me, Mike’s coughing seems to be subsiding.
Ryder told me about the deal he has struck with the Platinum Car Club and how it is going to save his company from financial ruin. Once he’s signed, and the IT system is up and running again, he is back in business, ready for a fresh start. And he deserves one, especially after the ordeal he has been through.
I find two glasses at the back of the corner cabinet and place them on the counter. As I fill one up with ice cubes and water from the fridge’s dispenser, I hear Mike walking up behind me.
“Thanks for that.”
“No problem.” Smiling, I pick up a full glass and start turning to hand it to him.
“But no thanks.” The icy tone in his voice makes me stop in my tracks.
I spin around fully, and the glass shatters on the floor.
With a crazed look in his eyes, Mike is standing beside the kitchen counter, a gleaming cook’s knife in his hand.
“Don’t scream. Or I’ll have to use this on you.”
Slowly, I shift my head up and down, and from the corner of my eye, I notice the knife block where he must have taken the knife from. What should I do? My brain is going a hundred miles a minute, weighing my options. I could scream loudly, get another knife from the wooden block, or take him by surprise by diving down and slipping past him.
But before I can make a move, he takes two quick steps forward and settles his fat fingers around my throat. “Bad idea, bitch.”
He squeezes, cutting off my breath, and the lightheadedness that follows makes me go limp. But before I pass out, the pressure on my throat suddenly disappears, leaving me to cough and gasp for breath. A hard coldness soon replaces it—the blade of the knife. I can’t move; every fiber of my body has turned rigid with fear.
“Ry—Mr De Luca is going to be h—here soon.” I can hardly recognize my high and shaky voice.
Pressing the blade down, Mike shakes his head. “He’ll be away for a while. I know he’s not coming back any time soon.”
“H—how do you know? He told me he won’t be long. He—he’ll walk in any minute now.”
I wish that were true. But I know full well Ryder will have to spend at least a few hours at the police station, identifying his kidnappers and giving statements.
“I can assure you—I know.” Mike juts out his chin. “I know all his moves.”
My heart skips a beat. I’ve heard that before, not too long ago. I know all your moves.
“Wait. You’re him. You’re Mike—Michael. It was you who abducted Ryder.”
As I scrutinize his face, eyes full of dark evil stare back at me. That odd feeling comes over me again—I have seen him before, but where?
“Finally.” A slow smirk appears around his thin lips. “You’ve figured it out.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I told you what I wanted, and you failed to earn it.”
“That’s it? You still want your million?”
He lets out a loud sigh. “A million, a million, a million. I’m sick of listening to it. You still don’t get it, do you?”
Keeping the knife firmly in place, he takes a key from his pocket and dangles it in front of my face. The keyring shows a logo of a silver three-pronged crown. “Today I drove my Maserati. But I also own a Ferrari, a Lotus, and several Lamborghinis. Their combined worth is millions and millions of dollars. Do you think I’d care about your paltry one million?”
A spark of anger flashes in my chest. “Then why the hell did you ask me for it if you weren’t after the cash?”
His narrowed eyes zero in on me. “I want to know if you really care about that boyfriend of yours.”
“Of course I do.” I shoot him a glare that expresses the deep loathing I feel for him.
“Obviously not enough.” He transfers the knife to his other hand, and his sweaty stench invades my nostrils, making me feel like throwing up. “You disappointed me. I thought you’d at least give it a good try. But instead, you came up with nothing.”
“I tried. Really hard. I almost got it together, but then you cut me short. It wasn’t fair!” Inside, the angry spark turns to fury. He’s the one who stopped me from playing—from winning.
“You’ve had plenty of time. If you’d really loved him, you should have tried harder.”
“But—”
He raises his hand, silencing me. “I’m a generous man. I’ll give you another chance.”
My lips pull up in a small smile as a shred of hope enters my chest. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”
“Go to the bedroom.”
His gaze glides down my body, and the little hope I had instantly freezes around my heart. I should have known this is what he was after all along—it’s the ultimate revenge on Ryder. But I’m not going to let him. I’ll do anything in my power to stop him.
The bedroom is all the way toward the end of the suite. Once I go in, no one will be able to hear me. And once he locks the door, I won’t be able to get out. At least now I still have a chance to escape.
I draw in a deep breath to give me the confidence to get me through this. “Listen, let’s talk about this. I need to know what this is about. What has Ryder ever done to you? Why do you hate him so much?”
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