by Shara Azod
“Worried, no. Cautious, yes. This is not a man to be trifled with.” Alicia could tell Claus was choosing his words very carefully. That was more than enough to give her pause.
At one time she might’ve been afraid. Claus was never reckless, but he also wasn’t cautious of much. He strolled through life as if daring someone to take him down. No one ever tried because he gave off the aura of a man who’d just as soon break your neck as to talk to you. She had honestly never seen him concerned about confronting anyone. Yet she knew that no matter what, she was going to be safe. Nothing would happen to them—Claus would never allow it. It wasn’t foolish bravado; it was unshakeable faith in his abilities.
“Be straight with me.” Holding his gaze with a steady, unwavering stare, she tried to show him she was indeed strong. “Is my daughter still in danger?”
“Dieter would never allow that.” There was absolute conviction in his statement. “And neither will I. But I will not lie to you. Since I know you’ll insist on coming with me no matter what I say, I need you to be prepared. The duke is ruthless, but prudent. He considered Deja his, and Dieter stole her. It’s an insult that must be answered.”
“Why did you call him that?” Who they would be dealing with couldn’t be changed; it was what it was. “The duke?” Nicknames weren’t as common as the movies would have some believe. Generally they were reserved for those who were trying to make names for themselves, mostly silly wannabes that ended up dead.
“Because he is,” Claus answered simply with a casual shrug to his shoulders. “He is a man who walks in two worlds. When dealing in the shadows he uses his mother’s maiden name, Nadir Amir Afhaser Nader. But his official title is Duc de Chioseul.” Claus smiled then—a rueful twist of lips that implied anything but mirth. “The title is very real. His father, the former duke, was flat broke. So he married exiled Persian royalty just before the revolution. Descendent of some former dynasty. Very old money, not exactly clean. Nadir carried on the family tradition of his mother’s people with his two brothers Solomon and Javid. They are utterly ruthless, but cunning. Their legitimate companies hide the less savory dealings.”
“Like you and Dieter,” Alicia provided. She wasn’t a fool; she knew who her daughter had married just like she knew the man she was inexorably linked to. The criminal world often began and ended in so-called respectable centers of power.
“Once upon a time.” Claus nodded. “We’ve moved away from most things. As soon as this is taken care of, there will be no more shadows for us. Only sunlight. I owe that to you.”
And just like that, she had a serious case of the warm and fuzzies even in the face of the daunting task of appeasing this Nadir person. The man wouldn’t give a damn that Deja was her daughter, or that Deja was now married to someone who truly loved and cherished her. All that mattered was his investment. Claus’ concerns meant this Nadir would be unimpressed Deja belonged to Dieter von Blucher.
“Do you think he’ll expect all the funds he invested plus interest?” Most would, but she’d only seen deals at Grgur’s level. Mid-level at best. Of course she’d heard of the dealing with real players. Such men and women never accepted less than what was promised.
“No.” Claus didn’t even try to sugarcoat the situation. “Which is why I would prefer you stayed at the hotel.”
“Not happening,” she shot back. No more hiding, no more cowering. They would think of something, together.
“Didn’t think so.” This time Claus’ smile was genuine, full of pride and approval. Alicia couldn’t help but preen just a little. “We will find a way,” he said with absolute conviction, and she believed him. “There is no other option.”
Chapter Eight
Nadir was a predator, as were most men in his position. On some level, Claus was one himself, as was Dieter. The prey was different for each, but the end results were much the same. Whereas Deiter and Claus’ end game had been for wealth and position, so as never to return to the slums from which they clawed their way out, Claus couldn’t begin to guess at Nadir’s.
Swathed in old-world respectability, elegance and good looks as he was, there was nothing behind the man’s pale green eyes that would suggest he had a soul. Not much could unnerve Claus, but Nadir was one of very few things on earth that made him uncomfortable. Whereas Claus had mastered the art of suppressing emotion, he seriously doubted Nadir ever had any. Looking at the man was kind of like looking at an animated dead man.
There were few things worse than dealing with someone with nothing to lose. Dealing with someone with nothing to lose and nothing to gain was one. As was dealing with an unrepentant liar who had no need to lie; a master manipulator who didn’t bother with manipulative tricks. One way or another, they had to find a way to atone to a man who by reputation could not be appeased.
There were a thousand reasons not to allow Alicia to venture into the Goutte D’Or neighborhood. The district may have been famous for such wondrous sites as the Sacré Cœur basilica and the Moulin Rouge, but it had become an area inhabited by immigrants from Africa. The streets were rich in exotic scents, people in bright traditional African clothing or chic Parisian ware in a myriad of rich colors echoing a cacophony of languages. On its face, it was an odd setting for Nadir, given his ancestry of French and ancient Persian nobility.
For reasons known only to the man himself, this was Nadir’s home as well as his base of operations. He’d taken over a large city block, dominated by one building that was, in essence, his fortress. Located smack in the middle of one of the place’s busiest streets, just two blocks over from the open market, the Afshar-Nadir building blended with the eclectic vibe on the outside. The exterior of the building was that of an older European five-story building complete with terraced windows and old-world charm. There were even gargoyles poised at the corners of the building.
While the street was bustling, no one loitered anywhere near the building. Claus suspected mostly because of the hawkish gaze of men stationed strategically along the block. While their weapons weren’t visible, he didn’t need to see them to know they were there. Leaving his own guards behind had been wise. They hadn’t come for a showdown, and any show of strength would’ve been seen as a challenge. Bringing Alicia—God, he wished like hell he could have left her safe behind armed guards. In the end, he had no choice but to bring her along.
He refused to treat her like an object; something to be petted, protected, and left ignorant of the real world dangers surrounding her. Deja was her daughter; it was simply her right to be here. A woman with her fortitude, her intelligence and her backbone deserved his absolute respect. That meant respecting her wish to confront Nadir along with him. But fuck if it wasn’t giving him heart attacks! He might be calm on the surface, but inside he was raging. How the hell was he supposed to protect her should Nadir decide to take revenge? Yes, he would lay down his life for her without batting an eyelash, but him dying and leaving her to face Nadir alone did no one any good. He was going to have to feel Nadir out and think fast. There had to be something the man wanted. There was always something.
“Le Duc is pleased you’ve come to call on him.” Melting out of the crowd like a ghost, a tall, ebony-skinned man in Berber robes stepped forward to stop in front of them. The man seemed ageless, with the deep, uninterested voice of someone who’d seen far too much to be concerned with much. His gaze barely flickered over them before sweeping his hand toward the door. “This way, if you please.”
This wasn’t the first time Claus had met with Nadir, but the other times had been with Dieter, and it had been at the duke’s official offices in the Passy district. The offices there were much as one would expect from modern-day nobility—elegant, old but tasteful. Nothing like what they stepped into now.
“Ohmygawd!” Alicia gasped under her breath.
Claus seriously doubted God had any hand in this. It was like they had stepped into another world. The entire inside was designed like some ancient Persian palace—or a temple.
The overtly opulent display should’ve been gaudy. Had anyone else tried to attempt this decor it probably would have been obscene. But somehow, here it felt right. Everything from the onyx floors with rich veins of gold snaking through it to the priceless gold, jade, lapis lazuli and pearl statues seemed completely at home.
The man who’d escorted them disappeared as soon as they stepped inside, but they weren’t left alone for long.
“You must forgive the gauche display. When my mother’s family managed to smuggle most of the family treasures out of Iran, my brother went to great lengths to ensure it wouldn’t end up in the wrong hands.” The smiling man who spoke English with no discernable accent wasn’t Nadir, though he looked almost like the duke. This one was too young, too carefree. Lights of mischief still danced in his gaze. Though tall, this man came to about Claus’ nose, though the unruly mob of inky black curls made him appear a shade taller.
This had to be the youngest of the de Choiseul brothers, Claus deduced. The middle brother, Solomon, never came to this neighborhood. Rumor had it Solomon was in New York, running the family’s legitimate businesses. While it was said Solomon never got his hands dirty, Claus’ sources claimed he was the brother who’d negotiated the contract for Deja. The brother before them now, Javid, was Nadir’s dirtier right hand. And this hand was far too jovial for Claus’ peace of mind. It was said Javid was Nadir’s enforcer, one who enjoyed his job a little too much.
Once upon a time, Claus had enjoyed that role also. Time would eventually kill the lights that danced in this kid’s eyes; however, Claus got the feeling he would always enjoy the role he played. Very few men exuded the aura of a true sociopath; Javid was one of them. Some part of him would probably always enjoy what he did.
Alicia took Javid’s measure and sidled up closer to Claus. Wise woman.
“I know nothing of such things,” Claus responded blandly. It was hard not to be awed by the display, but that was probably the point. Too bad he was far beyond making the mistake of being put off by his surroundings.
“Your reputation precedes you.” Javid laughed, motioning to the hallway on the right. “My brother said you’d be unimpressed. I had to see it for myself. He’s waiting for you in his office.”
Claus wrapped an arm around Alicia and followed the kid’s lead. No, not quite a kid, but certainly still very young. He’d just given away that Nadir at least respected Claus enough to know he was here for a purpose and wouldn’t be dissuaded or distracted.
The hallway was kept deliberately dark. Another neat little trick to inspire a sense of forboding. While he understood the ploy for what it was, Alicia’s body trembled ever so slightly. Shit, this was a really, really bad idea. But at least she didn’t show any outward fear. Arriving at the last door in the corner of the corridor, Javid opened the intricately carved double doors with a flourish, then stepped aside. Most that had made it this far into Nadir’s lair would probably never give Javid their back, but Claus refused to give the younger man the pleasure of showing he was in any way wary of him. He strode past Javid without blinking an eye. Just let the little fucker try something.
Nadir sat behind a massive mahogany desk, his fingers steepled, waiting patiently. Unlike his brother, his face gave nothing away. Those eyes were just as blank as Claus remembered them to be, just like a snake, unblinking, taking in everything. Claus pulled out a chair for Alicia, then stood directly behind her. If the kid whose presence he could still feel behind them got jumpy, he would have one shot. Not nearly enough to take Claus down. There wasn’t a chance in hell Claus would allow him to get a shot at her. If Javid made a single move, Claus would end him; he just hoped like hell it wouldn’t come to that. There was all kinds of legitimate business tied to Nadir’s organization. This could be the start of an all-out war.
Not willing to give an inch more than he had to, Claus waited, refusing to speak first. Nadir wouldn’t show his hand unless forced to—no way Claus would either. Besides, they didn’t really have a hand to show. To his credit as well as his delight, Alicia didn’t speak either. She sat as still as a statue as Nadir skewered her with that dead man’s stare. Claus’ hands itched to pluck out those eyes with his bare hands, but that would solve nothing. He knew inside she was seething; he could feel the heat rising from her body where he had laid his hand on her shoulder. Other than that, she gave nothing away. Apparently baby girl had been taking lessons. How could he not be proud?
“So I shall begin then,” Nadir finally spoke with a mirthless grin. Claus couldn’t suppress a tightening in his body as Nadir spoke directly to Alicia. “Madame, I’d hoped to welcome you into my family. It is…unfortunate that is not to be. I would congratulate you on your daughter’s nuptials, but I am afraid her husband’s good fortune is my extreme loss.
Claus’ heart stopped beating for a split second. Nadir knew who Alicia was; he should’ve anticipated that. There was no telling what her reaction to that statement would be. So much about her had changed. It was a relief when she merely inclined her head at Nadir’s words. Nadir was obviously less than pleased by her non-answer, so he pushed.
“I must say, you and your daughter look more like sisters than mother and daughter.” The flattery sounded sincere, much to Claus’ annoyance. However, Alicia wasn’t moved.
“While I appreciate the compliment, I’d much prefer to put this unpleasantness behind us,” Alicia shocked him by responding calmly. “What’s your price?”
Well, hell, perhaps he wouldn’t have to think so fast on his feet after all. Claus had never been so proud—or so relieved.
Chapter Nine
Nadir was deadly handsome but incredibly cold. Unlike his younger brother, he kept his locks cropped just long enough for a woman’s fingers, but only on top. Those icy jade eyes were fringed by the thickest, longest lashes she’d ever seen. No way those eyelashes belonged on a man. Yet, he was the least feminine-looking man imaginable, aside from Claus. Although his lips were full—sensuously so—they were cruel. Everything about this man left Alicia cold. She seriously doubted he’d felt an honest human emotion in a very long time, if ever.
Her answer seemed to surprise him enough for him to lift a brow, but otherwise he showed nothing. She could tell he hadn’t been expecting bluntness, at least not from her. Either intelligent women unaffected by a pretty face were in short supply in his life, or he’d never bothered to engage one in honest conversation. She was willing to bet it was the latter.
“You understand I’m no longer a young man able to wait for something I believed was already in my grasp,” Nadir purred, leaning forward on his elbows. “I find myself in need of an heir, but for that, I would need a wife. I had such a woman picked out, perfect for my needs, only to have her snatched away.”
Good God, what the hell was the difference between the underworld of criminals and medieval times? This man was completely serious about this perfect wife crap. Though she understood why he couldn’t exactly go shopping for a wife in polite society or wherever rich people met and married, expecting to have a woman raised to be his bride was way beyond old world.
“I provided significant financial support in your daughter’s upbringing. There was a contract.” How reasonable he sounded. What an utter load of bullshit.
“Mr. von Blucher is more than willing to reimburse any expense,” Claus smoothly interjected, giving her shoulder a little squeeze for courage. “With interest.”
“And the fifteen years I waited for my property, only to have it stolen by a friend?” Nadir shot back without any real heat.
It hit her then—this man didn’t care in the least that he’d lost Deja. Not really. This show of faux concern was about the principle of the matter; someone had takn what he believed to be his. The unwritten laws of the world he lived in demanded retribution. On the way here, Alicia had feared she’d be unable to contain her anger at this man for daring to attempt to buy her child. All that ire washed away in the face of the reality of the situation. It was imperative
they find a way for him to save face.
Nadir de Choiseul was an island, a man so completely alone, devoid of real feelings. This buying of a wife seemed to her to have been a desperate ploy to buy true companionship. For whatever reason, he didn’t trust himself to go out and find such a thing for himself. It made her feel sorry for him more than mad.
“If my daughter or I were aware of any contract, there would’ve never been a breach of trust.” It was suddenly so simple—all she had to do was give him an out. A way to uphold his reputation. If he took the escape route she was about to offer she’d know she was right about him. He didn’t care that Deja was gone; he was annoyed he had to find someone for himself.
“Is that so?” He smiled now, relaxing back in his chair. For the first time, there was a semblance of true emotion playing across his face. He was amused, and more than a little intrigued. “It was my understanding that Petric was the girl’s guardian and acted on her behalf. Are you telling me this is not so?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Alicia lied without even batting an eye, She hadn’t survived as long as she had by giving herself away. “Grgur Petric was, at best, muscle. I needed protection for my daughter and myself. As he grew weaker, I was forced to make a move to secure my daughter’s continued good health. He never had any right to enter into a contract on Deja’s behalf. Or mine.”
That was quite a whopper. She was in essence saying Grgur had worked for her. The idea was ridiculous on its face. Behind them, the younger brother started to openly giggle. It was an insanely masculine sounding bubble of laughter, half-heartedly covered with a cough. Even Nadir didn’t bother hiding an open smile—one she was guessing was completely unintentional. She didn’t have to look at Claus to know he was barely concealing his own laughter. She could feel it in his touch. She also felt his pride. God, what that man’s approval did to her!
