Ruthless: Book 2 of the Shattered Chronicles

by Ciana Stone

  "Make sure my orders are carried out to the letter. The plane will be ready when you arrive at the airport. Inform me when it is done."

  Juro nodded once. "About the woman… “He made no move to leave.

  "Morgan? What about her?"

  "She is not like the others." Juro's black eyes met Victor's without blinking, his thoughts and intentions unreadable.

  "No, she is not.” A smile flitted across his face but faded quickly. "She will be protected at all cost. Is that clear?"

  "At all cost?" Juro repeated the order as a question.

  "Yes." Victor read the question as a challenge.

  "As you wish." Juro nodded and left the room.

  Odessa, Texas

  Cord and Jeff walked silently back to the car where Trevor and the rest of the bikers waited for them. Trevor had already put all the signaling devices in the trunk.

  "I want to thank you all for your help," Cord said as he and Big Jeff stopped at the car. "You did a great job, and I'm very grateful. I couldn't have done it without you."

  Cord turned to Jeff and extended his hand. As the big man grasped it, Cord looked up into his trust–filled eyes. He felt a sense of finality take hold of him, as though he were saying goodbye for the last time. Jeff must have felt something too, because he put his free hand on top of their clasped ones and smiled down at Cord with a nod.

  Cord turned toward his son and was filled with pride as he looked at him, pleased to see a strong figure of a man standing eye-to-eye with him, full of curiosity and ready for all the adventures life had to throw his way.

  "I want you to go back to town with Jeff." He put his hand on Trevor’s shoulder and squeezed it. "I'm going to take this equipment back and clear up a few loose ends."

  "Well, why don't I ride with you then we can both go back to town together when you get through?”

  "Hey!" Big Jeff walked up beside them. "And miss the party? Come on, man – women and beer are waiting!"

  Trevor laughed and nodded. "Okay." He said to Jeff, and then looked at his dad. "See you later?"

  Cord smiled and pulled Trevor to him to hug him briefly. He patted Trevor on the back as he released him. "You guys get things started."

  Trevor laughed and climbed on the bike behind Big Jeff. The roar of the hog filled the air as Jeff pulled out and headed back toward town. One by one, the rest of the bikers followed, waving to Cord as they left.

  Cord stood with his hands shoved in his pockets, watching as the bikes disappeared in the distance. His insides tugged at him; part of him wanted to follow, but his destiny waited in the opposite direction

  Chapter Eight

  Rockridge, Texas

  The salad sat untouched on the table. Morgan twirled her index finger around in the droplets left by the melting ice in her drink glass. Her appetite was as depressed as the rest of her. She didn’t know why she was even still sitting there except for the fact that she could not think of anywhere else to go. Home didn’t feel very welcome with all the phone calls and nothing to do but think about the mess she was in; and wonder if she would ever hear from Cord again. Not to mention the fact that she’d had three drinks and wasn’t sure she could drive.

  Her assistant had told her about this place, a hotel just outside of Rockridge that had become popular thanks to its restaurant and lounge. Morgan didn’t think she’d run into anyone she knew there, so selected it as her place of escape.

  “Can I get you anything?” The waiter’s voice caused her to look up.

  “No, thanks. Just the check.” She leaned back in her chair as the waiter removed her dinner.

  He gave her a smile, removed the artfully arranged salad, and walked away. She returned to drawing circles in the dampness on the table. When someone stopped beside her a few moments later, she looked up, expecting to see the waiter with her ticket.

  Instead, Victor Vinsetti looked down at her. “What a coincidence.” He gave her a tentative smile. “Are you dining alone?”

  “Yes.” Morgan dried her finger and let her hands fall into her lap.

  “May I join you?”

  Her eyebrows drew together. “Look, Mr. Vinsetti, I appreciate the offer, but I really don’t think I’m up to another rundown of your relationship with−with the− “Unable to finish the sentence, she dropped her eyes.

  Victor slid into the seat next to her. “Neither am I, as a matter of fact.”

  Morgan cut her eyes at him. She couldn’t imagine why he would want to sit with her. It wasn’t as if she was someone who moved in his circle. What was he even doing in Cotton Creek? Everything she had ever heard about him led her to believe that he spent most of his time jumping from one continent and one famous woman to another, never long in one place. And Cray County, Texas certainly wasn’t one of the cultural centers of the country.

  Victor watched her, noting the way she averted her eyes when he looked at her. It had taken him by surprise when she left him waiting at the table the last time they met. If it had been anyone else, he would have had them killed for the insult. With Morgan, he found himself admiring her tenacity.

  “I was concerned for your well-being when you did not return to the table during our last encounter.”

  “What?” She gave him a perplexed look then colored in embarrassment as she remembered. “Oh, sorry. It was− “She stopped abruptly. She didn’t owe him any explanation. “I had to leave.”

  “Of course.”

  She looked up at him and his eyes caught hers. A flush rose on her face and she looked away.

  Victor studied her face in silence. He would not be deterred from his goal and this time she wouldn’t escape him so easily

  “Mrs. Alexander, I feel I owe you an apology.”

  “For what?”

  “My behavior on our previous encounter. I fear I unburdened myself at your expense. It was inconsiderate and I apologize.”

  Morgan didn’t want to get into another discussion about Cord and his infidelity. “It’s okay. It’s a bad time for everyone involved. I don’t blame you.”

  “You’re most gracious.” Victor smiled at the thought of Cassie’s condition following her encounter with Morgan. He didn’t suppose Cassie would ever think of her as gracious.

  Morgan shifted uncomfortably. She had nothing to say and was very ill at ease. It didn’t help that he was a famous man, or should she say infamous man. If she had been sitting there with Cord and had seen him across the room, she had no doubt that she would’ve admired him from afar. It would be hard not to. She still remembered the first time she saw him. Since that time, she had paid attention whenever his name was mentioned on television or in print. She knew it was silly, but it was fun keeping track of a famous person whom you’d seen in person. Even if they were someone, you’d be loath to associate with.

  She also wondered if he remembered that they had seen one another. Probably not, she decided. They’d never really met. She had only seen him from across the room, at the party Juan gave to celebrate his and Cord’s partnership years ago; and even then, she had only gotten a brief glimpse of him as she was helping Cord upstairs to sleep off all the alcohol he had consumed. There was no way Victor Vinsetti would remember something like that.

  “Well, I better go.” She picked up her purse and stood.

  “Must you?” He stood, and then gave her an apologetic smile. “Forgive me.”

  “For what?”

  “Wanting to share a bottle of wine and conversation with a beautiful woman.”

  Morgan laughed self–consciously. She didn’t believe his compliment for a second. His reputation with women was well publicized. He was just trying to flatter a jilted woman.

  “You can have your pick of any number of companions, Mr. Vinsetti.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Don’t play coy, you know it is.”

  “Excellent.” He took her arm and escorted her away from the table. “Then I choose you.”

  Morgan stumbled and stopped. “Mr. Vinset
ti, no.”

  Victor didn’t release her arm but did look down at her. “It’s Victor and I think you can.”

  At that moment, Morgan’s mind went blank. Why was he being so insistent on spending time with her? Was he telling the truth about that woman or was he up to something? That thought had her changing her mind. “Fine.”

  Victor smiled and gestured toward the door of the lounge. “Shall we?”

  She gave him a mute nod and upon his gesture preceded him to the lounge. They were seated at a table near the back, near the patio exit. A waitress approached them almost the instant they were seated.

  “Hi, I’m Crystal. What can I get you?”

  Victor looked at Morgan and she shrugged. He turned his eyes upward as if in thought then smiled. “Tequila, wasn’t it?”

  She nodded in reply. Victor turned his attention to the waitress to order and Morgan studied his profile. He was as handsome in person as he was in print. Why he was out alone was a mystery. She couldn’t imagine any woman turning down a date with him.

  Not even you if you were single and he wasn’t a criminal? That annoying voice in her head spoke up. Appalled at herself, Morgan jumped up. “Excuse me.”

  Victor stood and grabbed her arm before she fled. “Will you be returning?”

  “Yes, of course.” He released her and she hurried to the ladies’ room. Once inside she stared at her reflection in the mirror

  What are you doing? You’re married, for God’s sake!

  The thought brought tears to her eyes. She was indeed married. To a man who had run off with another woman, without so much as a good–bye. The shock of it hadn’t yet completely sunk in. How Cord could do that to her, to all they had shared, was something she would never understand. Could he be so in love with that woman that he could completely forget her and all they’d been to one another?

  Maybe she was being unfair. Holding on to the hope, she placed a call to the hotel in Odessa. Within moments of the call being answered, her hope died. According to the desk clerk, Cord and Cassandra Billingsley had checked out.

  Morgan gripped her phone so tightly her hand shook. She wanted to smash it, to smash something. Why did she keep putting herself through these things? Why could she not just accept that Cord had left her? And why could she not stop feeling as if her world had fallen apart?

  Her phone rang and without considering who might be on the other end of the call, she answered. “Your command phrase is look at me.”

  A wave of dizziness swept over her strong enough to have her reaching for support. “Who is this?”

  The line was dead, and the caller ID read Unknown. It had to have been a wrong number. It made no sense. Nor did the dizziness, which had already subsided.

  Nerves, anger, betrayal and fear, she surmised. She was sinking in an ocean of those emotions. It was no wonder her body was rebelling. The problem was, she didn’t know what to do. She turned and looked around. Her eyes fell on the door to the lounge. At the present, her choices were slim. Go home and sit in silence, with nothing to occupy herself with but being the dumped wife or go back inside.

  She headed for the lounge.

  It was beginning to fill as she reentered. Winding her way through the tables, she noticed Victor's eyes on her. The look on his face made her slightly self–conscious. Not only did she feel inadequate because of his fame and wealth; she was humiliated that he knew her husband had walked out on her. And for his old girlfriend, no less.

  Damn you, Cord Alexander! She was suddenly angry. No secrets between us, huh? You just needed me to stay and get in touch with Trevor, huh? Lies! All lies to cover your tracks so you could meet your lover. She ran through their conversations in her mind, getting madder by the moment.

  Guess I know the truth now, don't I? She looked over to see Victor still following her with his eyes. Fine! If that's the way you want it, have it your way.

  Sitting down as Victor held the chair for her, she looked up at him. "Are you all right, Mrs. Alexander?” He asked in a concerned voice.

  "Yes, fine," Morgan, said somewhat harsher than she intended. "I'm okay,” she said in a softer tone. "Thank you, and my name is Morgan. Morgan Windwalker."

  “Ah, so you did not take your husband’s name.”

  “No, I had one of my own that worked quite well.”

  He chuckled. Indeed. “But Morgan? A very masculine name for such a beautiful woman. Is it a nickname perhaps?

  "No." She laughed and downed half the shot of tequila sitting on the table. "Just plain old Morgan."

  "I hope I didn't offend you saying that your name is masculine. You certainly could never be considered masculine. Actually, Morgan," he said her name as if he enjoyed saying it. "You are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met."

  “Thank you." She looked away and picked up the shot glass again. No wonder he was such a hit with the ladies. He could dish it out and make it sound so sincere

  "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "Do you not like receiving compliments?"

  "I suppose I’m just not quite accustomed to it and tend to be a little self–conscious."

  Victor signaled for the waitress to bring another round of drinks and Morgan used the opportunity to admire him. His slate blue eyes were framed in dark lashes and seemed to flash with an inner fire. The almond shape and deep set of his eyes added a certain exotic quality to his features. Not to mention a killer body, she thought, having noticed that his firm masculine lines were well displayed in the tailored jacket and slacks.

  He wore a light blue silk shirt; open at the neck to show dark hair peeking out of the part in the collar. Morgan was taken with his strong profile and the casual yet almost graceful way he relaxed in his chair. She was beginning to be rather relaxed herself, which was something she found odd in the extreme, considering what she was going through. A strange sensation of detachment was stealing over her, making her feel as though she were somehow separated from the feelings that had so overwhelmed her. Must be the alcohol. She had already consumed far more than normal

  Almost as if reading her thoughts, Victor turned to her with a smile. She forced herself to focus. How was she going to find out if he was up to something? She got the feeling that Cord’s lover wasn’t the real reason he’d sought her out.

  "Tell me about yourself, Victor.” Oh, smooth, Morgan. Why didn't you just ask him what his sign is?

  She felt like a schoolgirl, saying and doing all the wrong things. Maybe it would be best if she just went home and spared herself the embarrassment of making a total fool of herself. She’d fail miserably at being a spy.

  Victor smiled and slid his chair closer to her so that he wouldn’t have to shout to be heard over the music. Her drink had been doctored with the experimental drug, and according to the text he’d received, the command phrase had been delivered.

  Just to make sure that the drug was having the desired effect he looked at her. “Look at me.”

  She turned her gaze to his and for a few moments he merely stared into her eyes. “When I say those words to you, you will do as I say but you will not remember me telling you. Do you understand?”

  “Of course.”

  “Excellent. Look at me. Now, touch me.”

  Morgan saw her own hand reach out and cover Victor's large hand on the table. Horrified at her own uncontrolled action she jerked her hand away almost as soon as it contacted his skin. "I'm sorry! I – I don't know what made me do that!"

  "There's nothing to be sorry for." Victor placed his index finger under her chin and lifted her face up. His eyes captured hers as his hand moved gently along the soft skin of her face. "I’ve wanted to touch you since the first moment I saw you."

  Morgan didn’t know what to say. She was totally unprepared for this. She knew she couldn’t trust this man. She’d known that for years, before she ever set eyes on him. She didn’t know if he sensed her discomfort, but he let the moment pass and put her at ease by telling her of his childhood.

  His parents had
both died in a tragic skiing accident when he was very young. He hardly remembered what they looked like any more. Upon their death, his grandfather in Italy took him in. His grandfather was a wonderful old man, kind, and gentle. He raised Victor and loved him like his own son. Victor had a very happy life and was grateful.

  When he was twelve, his grandfather died. Victor was the sole heir to the old man's estate, which was vast. Being a minor, he could not live alone, and so a guardian was appointed for him; a cruel and sadistic man who hated Victor and did all he could to make life a living hell for him.

  From the time his guardian moved into his grandfather's home with him, the man beat Victor unmercifully, many times so badly that he required hospitalization. He endured the beatings until he finished school and was accepted by several American universities. He left Italy to attend college in the States and graduated from Harvard. In time, he returned to Italy and took over his grandfather's vast holdings but not before becoming an American citizen. In the time since he had taken charge of the family business, it had grown into an international conglomerate.

  His tale roused feelings of sympathy. As someone who’d had less than an idyllic childhood, she knew how frightening and lonely life could be when you felt alone in the world.

  "It must have been awful.” She commented and without thinking reached out and placed her hand in his.

  “How long have you practiced?"

  "Practiced?” He asked.

  "You practice some form of martial arts." She tapped the callused edge of his hand.

  "Oh.” He passed it off nonchalantly. "A few years.” Before she could question him further, he took hold of her hand and stood, pulling her to her feet. "Want to dance?” He leaned down and whispered in her ear.

  Morgan hesitated for a moment. She hadn't danced with anyone but Cord in years and she was self–conscious about it. But she also felt foolish just standing there holding his hand, so she nodded.

  Victor stepped aside to allow her to precede him across the crowded room to the dance floor. She wound her way through the cluster of tables and couples making their way to and from the dance floor, unaware of the admiring glances she drew from the men she passed.