by AC Arthur
Let me know how you want to proceed.
Bailey
Dane read the message three times. Each time digesting the small glimpse into the life of the woman he was sleeping with.
Hadn’t he already been thinking that she was running from someone? But what about Emmet? Had she run from one man, into the arms of another? And what had those two months between her and Dane been?
He typed a response to Bailey.
I appreciate you getting this information for me. Don’t involve Trent. I’ll figure the rest out on my own. Thanks for your help.
He did not sign the message with his name, nor did he give any explanation of what he planned to do next. Dane stuffed his phone back into the bag and stood to leave. He walked away from the pool area, through a long hallway leading to the elevators and rode up to his room. All the while thinking that he’d had enough. Secrets, betrayal and everything that inevitably circled around them were all that he’d told himself he wanted nothing to do with. His mother had secrets. Bernard and the other Senior Donovans had kept secrets. Those secrets had ended with emotional and physical pain, disenchantment and anger. It had impacted two generations of Donovans and ended the lives of many others who really had nothing to do with the affair between Roslyn and Henry Donovan which had led to all the turmoil in the first place. No, Dane thought as he opened the door to his room and walked inside, he was not about to travel down that path for a woman he barely knew.
Even if she had been originally running from some type of domestic situation, why sleep with Emmet? And him? Dane didn’t have the answers, but his irritation about the situation was rising, to a point where he didn’t care about the answers, he just wanted to get out as unscathed as he possibly could.
He dropped his bag by the door and headed into the bedroom where he stripped his clothes off and went into the bathroom to shower. Afterwards, he dressed in jeans and a polo shirt. Dane had no idea where Zera was, but he planned to have her bags and all her belongings packed and ready for her to pick up whenever she returned. He’d just put on his shoes and was about to grab Zera’s duffel bag off the floor, when he heard the knock at the door.
Not in the mood for any interruptions, Dane considered ignoring the knock. But before he could decide, it sounded again, this time louder. Fists clenching at his sides he stalked out of the bedroom and into the main sitting area of the room. He was almost to the door when the knock came again. Dane grabbed the handle and yanked the door open, ready to curse whoever was on the other side.
“We’ve got a problem,” Roark said, effectively silencing Dane’s planned tirade.
Before Dane could even figure out a retort, Roark was walking into the room. He wore dark blue jeans today—a first since each time Dane had seen him, his cousin had been wearing a suit—and a light blue shirt. When Dane closed the door and turned to ask what was going on, he saw Roark pulling his cell phone from his back pocket.
“What’s going on?” Dane asked him. “Is there a problem at the new building? Did one of the background checks we were waiting on turn up something bad?”
Roark’s thick eyebrows were drawn as he frowned and punched a number into his phone before placing the call on speaker.
“Just a sec,” Roark said to Dane. “Hopefully this will make more sense coming from him.”
Who was “him”?
Dane was past fed up with not knowing what was happening around him. Just a month ago he’d told himself he was finally in control of his life again. He had no loose ends—namely his mother and sister—that he had to tend do. All the crazy and unpredictability was over. At least that’s what he’d thought.
“Hey,” another male voice replied when the ringing of the phone stopped.
“Yeah,” Roark said. “I’m here. Tell him what you just told me.”
Another “him”. Dane’s frown was beginning to give him a headache. He stepped closer to where Roark was now standing near the couch holding the phone between them.
“Who is this? Tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s me, Cade,” the voice on the phone stated. “You wanna tell us why your name just showed up in official FBI documents?”
Special Agent Cadence “Cade” Donovan was the son of Charles and Brenda Donovan who lived in Arlington, Virginia. Charles had followed in his father, Cephus’s, footsteps and ran a commercial division of Donovan Oilwell. Cade had one sister named, Dakota.
Dane folded his arms over his chest as the rest of what he’d learned about this particular Donovan circled in his mind. Cade was an FBI profiler who had assisted in profiling Dane’s mother when Roslyn’s many crimes took a national turn.
“What are you talking about?” Dane asked.
Roark was still scowling and Dane was starting to think it was a favored Donovan facial expression.
“My unit was asked to look at some files that the organized crime unit compiled for an international case they’d been working on. Imagine my surprise when not only does my cousin’s name pop up in some of the reports, but surveillance pictures of him surfaced along with questions about whether or not an official inquiry needs to be opened on him, his businesses and his family. An official inquiry that would undoubtedly lead to me being taken off this case and possibly investigated for organized crime connections as well,” Cade said.
The irritated tone in his voice was nothing compared to the fury roiling through Dane at this moment.
“Tell me everything,” Dane said.
“No. How about you start by telling us everything,” Roark insisted.
Dane didn’t budge. “I don’t have anything to tell you.”
“You sure? Because you and this woman in the pictures look really comfy and cozy on this yacht. And again at a restaurant at your hotel, and then, this pic that’s a bit blurry, but pretty much tells what was happening on this table in your hotel room. It looks like you have a lot to tell us,” Cade said.
“Why?” Dane asked. “Who is she?”
Because Dane knew for certain he had no connections to organized crime. So his line of thought immediately went to Zera. Who the hell was she affiliated with that would put him in this position?
Cade chuckled. “Oh yeah, that’s the best part of this,” he said.
Dane didn’t think there was a “best part” to whatever was happening now. It couldn’t be.
“Zera Kennedy is also a special agent for the FBI. At least she was until about four and a half years ago when she took a leave of absence from the Intelligence Department where she was working in D.C.”
Zera was FBI?
Dane let his arms fall to his sides. He walked to the window and stood there, staring out at the city. He probably should keep the drapes drawn since he now knew he was being watched.
“Zera Kennedy is a woman that I met four years ago when I was in Paris on business,” Dane said. “I bumped into her again when I returned, ten days ago.”
“And you’ve had nothing to do with her in between that time? You never talked to her, wrote to her? Nothing?” Cade asked.
“There was no contact after I left four years ago. And the meeting this time was not planned. It was purely by chance,” Dane said.
But now, he had to wonder.
“So this Zera Kennedy is working on a case here in Paris?” Roark asked. “I didn’t think the FBI took international cases.”
“We can liaison with international agencies,” Cade said. “But there’s no paperwork that officially assigned Zera to any case. I was going to reach out to her former unit to see if anyone knew why she’d left and how a leave of absence could be extended for so long. But I needed to clean the mess in my backyard first.”
“There is no mess,” Dane stated. “I did not know she was FBI. I don’t know what she’s doing here. I don’t even know where she lives.”
“Apparently she lives with you,” Cade quipped.
Dane turned to face Roark who had set the cell phone on the table and was now dragging a hand down hi
s face.
“She’s been staying here for the past five days. I don’t know why,” Dane said and then shook his head. “Except for the obvious, I don’t know why she left the place where she had been staying. I know next to nothing about her which is why I asked Bailey—”
“What? Wait? You opened a private investigation into an FBI agent?” Roark asked.
“And you asked Bailey, our newly married, was just kidnapped almost a year ago cousin, to help you? Are you crazy? The Seniors are going to want to kill you for this, Dane! Uncle Albert will be first in line. What were you thinking?” Cade asked.
“I was thinking that for once I could turn to family for help and that wouldn’t be such a bad thing,” Dane said before he could think better of it.
It had been his intention to never show these people, or anyone else, any weakness. No vulnerabilities. No weak points in which they could use to infiltrate and break him. Ever. It was how he’d been forced to act all his life. People liked to say that no man was an island, well, Dane sure was. He’d had to be, or he would have been sucked in by his mother and his sister’s madness. Standing alone meant he only ever had to apologize to himself.
“Look,” he said when the room remained silent after his outburst. “She’s just someone I’ve been sleeping with. Nothing more. Besides, I’m scheduled to leave in a couple of days.”
Actually, Dane thought he might be leaving Paris sooner.
“In the meantime, I can simply send her on her way. I’ll be out of your investigation file. Case closed,” Dane finished.
“Are you in love with her?” Roark asked.
Dane looked at him incredulously. “What? No! Like I said, we’ve just been sleeping together. Sex. That’s all.”
Roark didn’t look as if he believed him.
“How bad is it, Cade?” Roark asked.
“Well, I can’t touch it, that’s for sure,” Cade told them. “I’ll give my partner the low down and let him prepare a report. He’ll have to submit that report to the Director, with a signed statement from you Dane. Then I think it’ll blow over. As long as there are no further connections.”
“There will be none,” Dane stated firmly. “She’ll be out of this room this evening. And I will be back in the States before the end of the week.”
“Do me a favor and make a pit stop at Quantico so we can get this all resolved, nice and neatly,” Cade told him.
“That’s fine,” Dane said. “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.”
“Good. Now, I gotta go because it looks like whatever Agent Kennedy has been doing while she’s been in Paris, is about to take a bad turn,” Cade said before disconnecting the call.
Dane refused to be bothered by his cousin’s parting words.
Roark reached for his phone and pressed the button to clear his screen. He sat down heavily on the couch and stared at Dane.
“We’re not used to this type of drama,” Roark said. “I know we’re part of the Donovan family, but we’re relatively low key here in the UK.”
Dane took a seat in one of the chairs by the window. “There is nothing low key about any of the Donovans.”
Roark shrugged. “Yourself included.”
“It’s not what I wanted,” Dane said. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.
Roark chuckled. “In my thirty-six years, I’ve never known a person to get only the things they wanted.”
Dane had to smirk at the truth in that remark.
Chapter 10
Pierre Newton was the fourth name on the tenth page of the agenda book that Zera had taken from Emmet’s safe. When she decided that it was time to approach him, Zera had no idea that he would be the photographer taking pictures of Ines.
She was gorgeous. Her hair had been teased so that she had that “I just had great sex” look. Her eyes were perfectly smoky, her lips coated with red matte lipstick that added an inviable fullness to her mouth. Even though Zera was mighty proud of her own medium-thick lips. Ines had a fresh, effortlessly sexy look that Zera knew appealed to photographers and fashion houses. New clothing designs were only partially about the actual clothes. The rest was how well a fabulous model would actually make the clothes look. As she watched Ines pose, pout, smile, glower and even pucker on command, Zera, once again, confirmed that Ines was only one picture away from bursting onto the modeling scene.
And Pierre Newton might just be the one to get her there. He was a phenomenal photographer. Unfortunately, he was also a drug dealer who was mixed up with an organization that was far more dangerous than Zera suspected he knew. She’d been following up on information about Pierre for the past week, since she’d been chased. That meant she was getting close. Hacking into the cell provider’s network was easy. Downloading Pierre’s call record was enlightening. He was in touch with Luka Kuznetsov, Emmet’s UK contact.
Luka Kuznetsov was part of the illusive Belyakov bratva, the Russian crime family that Zera was certain had orchestrated Hiari’s and who knew how many other kidnappings in Africa and other countries. He was the man she wanted. The one she would make tell her where her cousin was.
“Hey! I did not know you were coming to see me today!” Ines yelled exuberantly as she came over to where Zera was standing.
Zera hugged her friend and tried to pretend like this was a planned visit—one where she had actually come to see Ines.
“Hey. Yeah, I um, was in the area and thought I’d drop in and say hello,” she said.
“Oh? I did not realize I even told you about tonight’s shoot,” Ines said.
Zera sighed inwardly, but kept her smile in place.
“But we can leave and go grab some dinner. I’m starving,” Ines suggested.
“Sure. Let’s do that. Don’t you have to change first?” Zera asked. She looked down at the flowing ice blue gown Ines was wearing.
Thin straps held the dress on her shoulders while the neckline plunged to show an expanse of her creamy white skin. Her small breasts were hidden by the material, but the fact that she wore no bra was made apparent by the sharp peaks of her nipples through the material.
“Of course,” Ines said with a giggle. “I’ll go clean my face too and grab my things. Be back in ten.”
“I’ll be right here,” Zera said because she knew that Ines would only take ten minutes to change.
When Ines had disappeared through a scarred brown door, Zera crossed the room. They were in an old warehouse with high ceilings and one long white wall. The floor in front of the wall was white as well and it was where Ines had been standing as she posed for the pictures. Props, Zera thought as she crossed it to get to the area where two camera stands were positioned and Pierre stood with his back to her. He was staring down at the camera he held in his hand.
“It’s lovely that you have this little side business,” Zera said as she came up behind him.
He turned his head slowly, glancing at her dismissively over his shoulder.
“Did Cara send you?” he asked before turning to look at his camera again. “I don’t need another girl.”
“Really? What would Luka have to say about you turning away possible workers?”
She knew the name she’d just dropped would get his attention.
Pierre turned to her, still moving slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. Zera figured that was true. She wasn’t here to arrest him. She couldn’t even if she wanted to. While she had sufficient evidence, she wasn’t here in the official capacity of a law enforcement agent. She was rogue. She had been for almost five years and while she knew that one act may have effectively ended her career with the FBI, she didn’t care. She’d had to do it. Her family was depending on her.
He stepped close to her and Zera simply lifted her chin so that she could hold eye contact. Pierre was a slim man, just a bit over six feet tall, his brown hair a scraggly mess, his beard splotchy and in need of a trim.
“You’d better watch your mouth, petite fille,” he said.
Th
en his hand was plastered to the back of her head as he pulled her closer to him. It was a quick move, one Zera hadn’t anticipated. But she’d slipped her gun from the back ban of her jeans and pressed it into his stomach, just as fast.
“No. How about you tell me where I can find Luka and I let you live,” she told him.
He smiled. His hand slipping slowly from her head as he took a step back. Zera followed, keeping the gun on him.
“I know he’s looking for me. I want to make his hunt a little easier. Tell me where he is, Pierre, or the police will hear about your other business—the shipment and distribution one that pays directly to Luka.”
Everything Zera had on Pierre was already carefully documented in a file on a USB drive that she kept in a safe at the bank. She updated the files weekly while sitting at her museum of choice. Aasir knew about the safe and so did her mother, or rather she’d written a letter explaining everything to her mother and her grandmother and had made Aasir swear to give it to them if anything should happen to her. Her finger tightened on the trigger as she decided nothing was going to happen to her and she was getting Hiari back.
“He will kill you, black bitch!” Pierre spat. “First he will use you and then he will kill you!”
Zera raised her arm until the gun was pointing directly at Pierre’s head.
“Not before I splatter your brains all over this nice pristine floor. Now tell me where I can find Luka.”
Pierre laughed and then shrugged. “Sure. Why not? It is your death. Not mine. He is at The Grande.”
“Zera?” Ines called from behind.
Zera didn’t turn immediately, but stepped closer to Pierre and smacked him hard with her gun. He dropped instantly and Zera moved fast dropping her backpack to the floor and pulling the zipper open.
“What are you doing? What’s happened?” Ines was asking.
She’d come close enough so that Zera could see her but Zera did not stop. She pulled out a small red stress ball, stuffing it into Pierre’s mouth. Then she found her electrical tape, applying three layers over his mouth stretching it from ear-to-ear. Next she bound his hands, pulling so tight she knew the rope would cut deep into his skin each time he moved. His ankles were also bound and when she stood, she kicked him in the balls and the stomach. Pierre may not have known where Hiari was taken, but he was a part of the crew that did. Zera had a timeline and a list of possible places the group of girls Hiari had been with were taken. Their group had been called The Pir, or The Feast in Russian. Zera planned to make a feast out of Luka and his pakhan, boss, when she found them.
