by Meghan March
“Now I can say I’ve seen it all. Jericho Forge knows how to use kitchen utensils I’ve never seen, but I’m pretty sure you just zested an orange.”
“That’s the secret ingredient. Now you really can’t escape, because I can’t take a chance that you’ll spill.” Even though my words are joking, Indy’s smile dies. “What?”
“You know I’d never tell anyone anything you tell me. About you, your business, your life . . .”
My head jerks back at her quiet statement. “You don’t need to say that. I trust you, India. With my life.”
Her smile comes back. “Then we’re even, because my heart’s in your hands. Take care of it.”
I walk around the counter to pull her into my arms. “You have my solemn vow.”
Breakfast has to wait another hour, because I carry her back to the bedroom.
“Sir? I don’t want to interrupt, but we have someone requesting permission to land.”
“Permission to land?” Indy asks, looking up from her pancakes, which are now brunch.
“Who?” I ask Sanderson, lowering my fork.
“Grigory Federov. They’re two minutes out.”
Nothing he can say will make me give her up. Not a fucking thing. It’s time to make sure the Russian understands.
“Grant permission.”
“I can’t believe he’s here.” Indy sounds just as shocked as she looks. “He was just in Monaco . . . why would he come here? I beat him, you know.”
“I heard. I was proud as hell.”
“That’s when he told me what he said to you. Why you pushed me away.”
Regret rolls through me. I hate that I let Federov get in my head and force me to make a decision I didn’t want to make. But he was right in some respects. I didn’t start things with Indy the right way, and if what we have is going to stand the test of a lifetime, it needs a solid foundation. That foundation has been laid, whether he likes it or not.
“He had his reasons,” I tell her. “But it’ll never happen again.”
“Why didn’t you close the deal you were making with him? I know he offered you what you wanted.”
From inside the house, the whap-whap-whap of the rotors grows louder as the chopper approaches the island.
“Then you also know why I couldn’t close it. I couldn’t give him the promise he wanted in return.”
“To give me up forever.” Indy’s pained gaze locks onto mine.
“I could never agree to that.” I thread my fingers through hers on the counter. “Not for all the money in the world.”
“Even if your partners were pissed the deal fell through?”
“They’ll live. Nothing is more important than you.”
A hint of mischief winks in her blue eyes as she presses her lips to mine. “I think we can have it all, and that’s exactly what I’m going to tell my father.”
44
India
I’ve never been a businesswoman. A gambler, yes. But a legitimate businesswoman? Not exactly. I’m still about to facilitate a business deal, though, because it’s time.
Federov may never have the daughter he wants at home in Russia, but I’m hoping we can find a way to have a relationship, and for Jericho and his partners to get what they need from him.
Jericho goes outside to meet the chopper, and a few minutes later, he leads my father inside. Kostya waits just beyond the door. The older man’s face creases in surprise, his eyebrows going up, when he sees me sitting in the kitchen.
“You . . . you’re here. With him. How?”
I walk toward him. “You told me what I needed to know. I made my decision.”
My father glances from me to Jericho. There’s no mistaking that we’re having a cozy meal for two.
“Then my presence is de trop, I assume,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“I wanted to tell Forge that I was wrong to interfere. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I was an old man protecting his daughter, and after many years of being denied such a privilege, I may have been overzealous in my approach.”
“No,” Jericho says, surprising me. “You weren’t. Things needed to be said.”
“That is good you agree,” my father says.
“But if you ever try to meddle again, all bets are off,” I tell him.
My father gives me a look of respect. “Point taken.”
“One more thing,” I say. “You’re signing the deal. Original terms. No more bullshit. I won’t be used as a pawn in anyone’s game ever again.”
Jericho turns to stare at me in surprise, but my father just smiles. “Fine. Bring the contract. But I do have one condition.” He pulls a pen out of his jacket pocket.
I tilt my head to the left. “And what’s that?”
“I do want to be part of your life, Ill—India. For what little time I have left.”
I blink. “What . . . what do you mean?”
“I’m ill. The doctors say I do not have many months to live.”
“I . . . I didn’t know. I’m . . . sorry.” My words come out stilted.
He’s dying? How is that possible? Why didn’t he tell me before? His ruddy face shows signs of hard living, but nothing of the gaunt paleness I would associate with being terminally ill. I just found out I have a father, and now I’m going to lose him.
“There is no need to be sorry. I have lived a long life, and my final wish has been granted.” He walks toward me and takes my hand. “All I wanted was to tell you that you have always been loved, whether you were with me or not.”
I squeeze his much larger hand with both of mine. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you. I am very proud of the woman you have become, even if I did not have a hand in it.”
I swallow the lump in my throat as he lifts my hand to press a kiss to the back. “Your mother would be proud as well. Now, let us get the contract signed, and we shall toast the beginning of a new venture. One that, hopefully, my grandchildren will oversee someday.”
My gaze collides with Jericho’s, and he smiles. “I can toast to that.”
45
Forge
Riscoff and Karas sign off on the agreement as soon as I tell them the deal’s back on. Indy, her father, and I sit out near the deck of the pool. As he tells her about his home in Russia, Dorsey refreshes our coffee.
“I would like you to see it someday. After all, it will all be yours,” Federov says. When I shoot him a sharp look, not wanting him to pressure her, he adds, “But it will be managed easily until you decide it is time. I have a board of directors who have the power to oversee everything, and all profits flow into a trust for you if they are not reinvested in the company.”
Indy looks a little overwhelmed, but she’s rolling with it. “I don’t know anything about steel, or . . . what else do you do?”
The older man laughs, and it’s still hard to believe he’s dying. He looks healthier than most men his age. Before I can think further on that, a boat catches my attention as it roars toward the dock.
A red boat. Bastien’s boat.
I jolt out of my seat as the boat closes in on the island.
“What’s wrong?” Indy pops out of her chair, her blond hair swirling around her face.
“We have an unwelcome visitor. Stay here.” I pull out my phone, but Sanderson is already jogging toward the edge of the cliff.
“I’ll handle it, sir.”
“I’m coming with you,” I tell him.
“Jericho? What’s going on?” Indy’s knuckles are white where she grips the back of her chair.
“I think Bastien de Vere has finally lost his fucking mind,” I tell her before I run toward Sanderson as he disappears down the stairs.
“Let me—”
I turn around to see Indy following me. “Stay here.”
I know she wants to argue, but all she says is, “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I swear. Wait with your dad. I’ll b
e back.”
By the time I make it to the bottom of the cliff, Smith is on my heels, and the wind carries away whatever Sanderson is saying to de Vere while he holds on to the line tethered to de Vere’s boat.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask as I pound down the pier toward him.
As soon as I get close, I slow as I take in de Vere’s appearance. His face is busted up and bleeding. His shirt is covered in blood and dirt. But it’s his eyes that are the most disturbing as soon as they lock on me. They’re wild. Frenzied. Like I was right and he’s lost his goddamned mind.
“If you’re gonna fucking kill me, just do it. Don’t send your people after me, you fucking coward. At least have the balls to do it yourself!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” The boat bumps the rub rails as I approach.
De Vere jumps out of the boat and onto the dock. “First I have to dodge the Russians, and now your dreadlocked giant tries to fucking kill me. Rammed my car, shoved me over the cliff. I crawled out and up the rocks before he could finish me off. You’re a lot of things, Forge, but I didn’t take you for a pussy-ass bitch who lets other people do your dirty work for you.”
The words coming out of de Vere’s mouth don’t make sense. Goliath is here. What de Vere is accusing him of is impossible.
“You’re fucking crazy. Goliath wouldn’t do that, even on my orders.”
“Then how many other white, dreadlocked giants are there running around on this island who work for someone who wants me dead? Because I’m coming up with nothing.”
I grab my phone and tap the screen until I pull up Goliath’s number. “I’ll call him right now. He’s here, not in Ibiza.”
“Bullshit. I know what I saw. You don’t have to lie anymore, Forge. I quit. I’m done. I didn’t even fucking kill Isaac Marco.”
My phone slides from my nerveless fingers at de Vere’s bomb of a confession.
“What . . . what did you say?” My voice comes out hoarse as my mind races and blood roars in my ears.
Blood wells from a cut on de Vere’s face and rolls down his cheek. “I didn’t kill him. It was a fucking accident. Sure, I shouldn’t have let an eleven-year-old drive my fucking boat, but I thought his brother was watching him. He was just a kid. I was passed out. It was a fucking accident.”
An eleven-year-old kid. No. No, that can’t be true.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
De Vere’s busted lip curls. “My employee’s little brother. He was the one at the helm that day. It’s still fucking my fault, because I didn’t know Littleton was passed out too. That’s why I took the blame. I wasn’t about to let an eleven-year-old’s life be ruined because of something I was too stupid to prevent.”
The rage I’ve been holding on to for years twists into a sea of confusion.
“A kid?”
De Vere jams a bloody hand into his hair, turning it a rusty red. “I couldn’t let the truth get out. I had the protection of money and my title, but the Littletons only had the protection I could give them.”
Blood roars in my ears when I think of everything I’ve done for the last ten fucking years . . . because I thought de Vere . . . “Jesus fucking Christ.”
“It’s the truth, Forge. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice cracks, and his anguished expression makes me believe he’s sincere.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”
“You were out for blood. I let you take mine.”
“Fuck. Fuck!” I tilt my head back and yell. “What a fucking mess.”
That’s when I hear a gunshot. De Vere opens his mouth to say something, but his body jerks and he stumbles backward.
“De Vere?” I take a step toward him, but he tumbles off the pier and into the water just as there’s another shot.
Sanderson gasps as I lunge for him. Before I can reach him, blood blooms on his shirt, and another round hits Smith in the head.
I don’t think. I throw myself off the dock.
Bullets hit the water, but I hold my breath. De Vere is sinking beneath the surface, and I grab his arm and pull him beside me. Blood, whether from the gunshot wound or his accident, floats on the current.
More shots hit the water as I swim us under the pier and up toward the shore where we’ll be covered, but my mind isn’t on de Vere, even if it should be. All I can think about is Indy.
I have to get to her. I have no fucking clue who is shooting at us, but it doesn’t matter. I have to get to her.
I break the surface beneath the concrete pillars of the pier and haul de Vere’s lifeless body onto the rocks beside me. He’s unconscious. Maybe dead.
But Indy might still be alive. No. She has to be alive. I can’t fucking lose her now. I won’t.
Adrenaline dumps into my system, and the world goes silent as I try to figure out what the fuck is going on.
De Vere said Goliath hit him and ran his car off a cliff. Why? It doesn’t make sense. Goliath would never do something like that . . . unless there’s something I’m missing.
Could we have been double-crossed by Federov? Would he kill me to keep me away from Indy?
Without knowing a motive, I have no fucking clue what I’m walking into, but it doesn’t matter.
I’ll walk into a hail of bullets if it means saving Indy.
46
India
Oh my God. Oh my God.
“Goliath?” My voice shakes as I say his name, and the man who I clung to for support in Prague steps out from behind a tree and turns his rifle on me. But there’s already a gun pointed at my head.
Oh my God. Oh my God. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Did Goliath just kill Jericho?
“What the fuck is going on?” My father, who jumped in front of me as soon as the first gunshot sounded, barks out. His blue eyes are razor sharp as they swing from Kostya’s body to Goliath, and finally to Dorsey, who murdered Kostya in cold blood, before turning the gun on me and my father.
“Give me the gun, old man. I know you’ve got one.”
“Dorsey?” I croak her name, and she barely spares a glance at me.
“Shut up, you whiny bitch. I’ve had enough of your mouth.”
In her navy polo, she steps toward us and holds out her hand as Goliath comes closer, his rifle cradled in his arms. “Gun, or I shoot you in the fucking head right now.”
My father yanks up his pant leg, exposing his holster. Dorsey rips the pistol from the leather and steps back as Goliath closes the distance.
“You got them all?” Dorsey asks.
“Forge dove off the pier. I don’t know if I hit him. De Vere, Sanderson, Smith, and Federov’s other guy at the chopper are all dead.”
My stomach revolts and my heart lurches. Jericho could still be alive. Oh God, please let him be alive. I can’t lose him. Not now. Please.
“This wouldn’t have been necessary if you’d done your job and killed de Vere. How could you screw that up? You knew the plan. Now we have to make this look like a murder-suicide situation with way too many fucking players. Goddammit,” Dorsey says to Goliath as she grips a pistol in each hand.
“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t think there was any way he could survive that cliff. He’s a tough motherfucker to kill.”
Baby?
My gaze cuts between Dorsey and Goliath, and confusion muddles my thoughts. “What the hell is going on?”
My pulse pounds in my ears as Dorsey’s cruel smile sends chills across my skin. She’s crazy. “After the six longest months of my fucking life being at Forge’s beck and call, we’re finally cleaning up all the loose ends before we live happily ever after . . . with my father’s money.”
“Who was your father?”
“Sit down and shut up.” Dorsey waves one gun at the metal table where Forge first handed me a check for a million dollars, then turns to Goliath. “Go find Forge’s body. If he’s not dead, I want to kill him myself.”
Goliath walks to her si
de, presses a kiss to her lips, and jogs to the cliff stairs as I stare at Dorsey with my mouth gaping open.
“You fucking whore bitch. How dare you?” My father roars in anger and lunges toward her.
“We don’t need you for this, Federov.”
She pulls the trigger twice, and my ears ring with the percussion. My father stumbles back, almost knocking me over as he grips his chest. His head smacks the concrete with a sickening thud.
“No!” I drop to my knees, but Dorsey shoves the barrel of the gun in my face.
“Go sit the fuck down unless you want to die right now. Because I hate to break it to you, but this story doesn’t have a happy ending for you either.”
“Why? How?”
“Well, it all started twenty-five years ago when Isaac Marco fucked my mother and walked away without looking back . . .”
47
Forge
Rock shreds my clothes as I swim around the island to the rear stairs, the only other way to get up to Isla del Cielo. Isaac didn’t just choose this island because it was beautiful, but also because it was nearly impenetrable. Sure enough, one of my tenders is anchored off the back side of the island.
De Vere was probably telling the truth. Goliath could have left, tried to kill him, and then came back to take the rest of us out.
But why?
That doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is getting to Indy and keeping her alive.
The back stairs are wooden, and alarmed, but I step over the sensors, just like Goliath would have.
I can’t fucking believe this is happening.
I reach the top of them, wishing I had a fucking weapon, but I sure as hell don’t. I duck behind the chopper and spot blood pooling on the ground.
