by Louise Dawn
“I miss my daughter.” Rajin had felt torn.
“I can go home and get her. She’s with my nanny, but I wanted to talk to you in private.” Pearl waggled the wine bottle. “About a new visitation schedule. You’re running for president, and that’s going to interfere with Aysha.”
Anger had risen. “You won’t keep me from my daughter.”
She’d shot him a million-dollar smile. “Of course not. That’s why we should chat; she loves you so much, and I want you both to spend time together. Let’s enjoy a drink—like old times.”
He’d conceded. Despite their divorce, he still enjoyed Pearl’s company and felt pleased that they’d had an amicable separation. When he’d first met Pearl, she was a famous American fashion model. So young and impressionable. Over the few years they’d been married, he’d molded her into the perfect wife. And then she’d found out about his affairs. All the hard work, down the drain.
Rajin couldn’t be a good husband, but they’d always been friends first, and he cherished that bond. Plus, they’d created life together—a beautiful, innocent child who knew nothing of her father’s wicked ways. Rajin never wanted to spoil his relationship with his child or with Pearl. They were saints, and he was the devil.
He’d invited Pearl in, and that was the last thing he remembered. They’d drunk half a bottle? Rajin could hold his liquor. How had a couple of glasses knocked him out?
He had been exhausted from his heavy campaigning, but that didn’t explain the migraine pounding against his skull. Rajin rarely suffered from headaches. He reached out and picked up the nearest glass. His arm felt heavy, like the rest of his limbs. He felt almost… drugged?
That couldn’t be right? And where was Pearl? Rajin stood and swayed before stumbling forward and leaning against the arm of the opposite sofa. Panic swirled. If he’d been drugged, had someone broken in and taken Pearl? Fuck!
Rajin should have already hired a security team. He’d delayed the decision because he had his own network of “specialists.” He’d never seen a threat. Rajin was a predator and never the hunted. And at that very moment, he felt violated… vulnerable. Shouting into the silent room didn’t cancel out his helpless rage or the panic. He’d lost time. Rajin reached for his phone on the coffee table and glanced at the time. Almost midnight. Hours had passed.
More time ticked by as Rajin stood, waiting for his mind to clear. New suspicions had him glancing at the wine glasses. No… Pearl wouldn’t betray him. Would she?
Was she working for someone? Another presidential candidate? Surely, she would know the risk of a betrayal. As the minister of law and order, Rajin was one of the most powerful men in Sri Lanka. He owned law enforcement and much of the military. No—Pearl wouldn’t hurt Rajin.
On steadier legs, Rajin walked to the kitchen and poured himself a tall glass of water. He chugged down the contents, hoping to flush out his system.
Hypothetically, if Pearl had drugged him, what had she done while he was unconscious? What was she after? Money? He gave her generous alimony, and besides, she had never obsessed over material trappings.
The only room in his home that held his dirty secrets was his study. Rajin slammed down his glass and headed down the passage. A wave of dizziness had him briefly leaning against a wall. The door was unlocked, but he’d left it that way earlier. Rajin paused at the entrance and studied the immaculate room. Nothing looked out of place, except for his leather chair, which sat too close to his bookshelf—now shifted away from his desk.
Rajin swore and staggered over, sifting through folders and paperwork with shaking hands. He tore open a drawer containing questionable campaign contributions and finance violations. Nothing was missing. After a systematic search, he stood and let out a breath. She could’ve taken photos—who was she working for?
His heart paused, and his neck prickled. Rajin sunk to his knees and slid a hand under the desk. How would she know about the secret compartment? Except for Rajin, no one had touched this hidden drawer that contained his depravity—multiple camcorder cassettes. All depicted his thirst for torture and killing—slowly breaking a human body and watching his victims descend into madness. He always recorded his killings and watched them after. His taped treasures gave him endless pleasure.
Rajin was born for war and for killing. He knew how to interrogate and inflict pain. Drawing out suffering was an art form, and Rajin was the angel of death. The torture of minority Tamils—and a few Sinhalese citizens—by his police and military units was mostly ignored by his political comrades. Perhaps Rajin had stepped over the line by then targeting wealthier enemies of the state, and now he’d pay the price.
He pulled the latch and reached inside, and his bellowed rage reverberated through the mansion. Shouts turned into wails as he fell to his ass. That double-crossing bitch. He’d loved her. He’d broken up their little family, but she’d still been his. His sweet Pearl—the mother to his little cherub.
She was nothing but a fucking Western tart who’d sunk her seductive claws into Rajin. Pearl’s flawless skin, pretty mouth, and indigo eyes were all tools of her deceitful trade. And she’d caught Rajin in her beautiful web.
He moaned against the treasonous pain. Swiping at a damp cheek, Rajin took in his stately study for the last time. He wouldn’t be returning to this home. If Pearl went to the authorities with her evidence, Rajin’s life was over. He’d be arrested or put to death—not even his extensive network would save his life.
The time had come for him to embrace his role as a renegade warlord. Rajin had the means and the money to set up his new life, and with a mercenary army at his disposal he refused to spend a life behind bars. He had much to accomplish, starting with revenge. Pearl and whoever she worked with would die a slow death.
They’d just fucked with the most dangerous man on the planet.
Chapter Two
Pearl rubbed the back of her neck, still getting used to her new haircut. She felt lighter than she’d felt in years. Her heavy mane had taken a lot of work, especially in political circles. The years of fake smiles and careful conversations had forced her into a tame trophy wife, which went against her core personality.
Her only escape had been charitable work where she’d worked with impoverished communities and alongside good people. Pearl thought of her dear friend, Chantal Durant, the U.S. Ambassador’s daughter, and how Chantal had embraced her panicked friend after Pearl had rushed to her clinic.
Now, Pearl was leaving Chantal behind to deal with the fallout. Pearl glanced around the busy airport as they shuffled closer to the check-in counter. Aysha looked exhausted, her little hand felt limp, and Pearl squeezed it gently.
“You can sleep on the plane, honey.”
“I want my Shreddy,” Aysha whined.
“Since you decided to dunk him in the bath earlier, he’s now broken and soaking wet.”
“I didn’t mean to. Mommy, he fell in the water.”
“Yeah? And now his voice box doesn’t work.” Pearl glanced at the plastic grocery bag tied to the carry-on that contained the damp stuffed toy. The poor guy had been through many trials and tribulations in his short life. He’d lost an ear… an eye… and now his mechanical innards were fried.
“I want him!”
“Once he’s dry.”
“I want him now.” Aysha stuck out her tiny chin, and Pearl gritted her teeth.
“Aysha, look at how many bags I have. Give me five minutes.”
Pearl glanced at Antonio. He’d stuck close to her side, and his attention was on the terminal. His sharp eyes constantly scanned for danger, and Pearl was grateful for his assistance. She felt safe around the tall, muscled agent. He’d taken the threat seriously, and though he wasn’t helping her in an official capacity, his capable presence allowed her to concentrate on her daughter and their belongings.
He leaned in and helped her to load her suitcases onto the luggage belt. Their shoulders touched, and her skin tingled at the contact.
“
Sorry. Thanks.” Feeling a blush, she tried to shift out of his way. Turning, her chest brushed his arm, and she heard him suck in a breath. “Uh. Sorry.”
“No problem.” His deep voice sounded raspy, and he offered her a polite smile.
Pearl reached for their passports on the counter with a trembling hand and concentrated on packing away her documents. She’d only have to deal with the daunting man until their landing in New York. Still, it would be twenty-six hours of traveling with two stopovers in Doha and London.
This was the earliest connecting flight available for her escape which meant a longer commute, and she was grateful for this means to escape. They made their way through passport control and the quiet terminal. Everything would be all right. Tomorrow when she woke, she’d be far, far away from Rajin. A new day and a fresh start.
When Pearl turned towards their gate, Antonio cupped her arm. “Thanks to Martin, we have business tickets. We have access to the lounge and that’s a safer place to wait. “
Pearl nodded tiredly, and they headed up the escalator. When they finally arrived, she settled Aysha in a deep sofa chair, and the kid immediately fell asleep.
“Do you want a snack?” Antonio nodded at the refreshment buffet, and Pearl shook her head.
“We ate dinner earlier.”
Thanks to her anxiety and exhaustion, she’d lost her appetite. Agent Torres walked over and helped himself to a generous plate before returning to their corner. At two in the morning, the room sat quiet, and Pearl tried to relax, which proved to be an impossibility. Instead, she rubbed her palm and stared at the wall.
Now that Aysha was asleep, Pearl could pause with the pretense and consider their future. Had Rajin woken from his drugged slumber? Did he know what she had done? She’d torn their child away from his world. Oh, God. He’d make her pay. No—he wouldn’t find her. A fresh start… a new city… new faces.
“Easy.” Warm fingers covered hers, and Antonio leaned forward. He held a grape in his other hand. She focused on the fruit.
“Look at me.”
It hurt to breathe, and her eyes burned with unshed tears.
“Pearl, look at me.”
Complying, she met his concerned gaze.
“Go ahead and rest for a minute or two. Let go of the panic. You’re safe with me.”
“I’ll never be safe.”
“The only thing you need to bring with you on this flight is faith. You’re leaving the horror behind, and I won’t let it follow you home.”
His words were like balm to the soul, except that she had no home. She couldn’t go to her parents, and she hadn’t lived in the States for a decade. She’d lived in Europe before meeting Rajin—had left Colorado for Paris as a teenage model. She became a wife at twenty-one and a mother at twenty-two.
Pearl may be an American—and hold citizenship—but America was an imposing and foreign continent. The thought of starting over while on the run… Memories from her youth reminded her that this wasn’t the first time.
“I can’t… I can’t get air. Need to…”
Antonio crouched before her and gripped her shaking shoulders. “Slow your breathing. Look at my chest. Breathe with me.”
A tear fell, and she grabbed at his wrist. His arm felt steady and unyielding. Pearl closed her eyes and absorbed that strength.
“I… I can’t fail her.”
“Who?”
“Aysha. He’ll take her, and… I’ll die before he touches her.”
“We have thirty minutes before boarding, and then we’re in the air. I’ll keep you both safe. I swear on my life.”
Opening her eyes, Pearl studied his grim expression. Antonio stared back. A thumb rubbed her shoulder as he communicated his concern. His turbulent eyes held layers of ferocity—untold stories that should scare her into pulling away.
Except, Pearl wanted to shift closer. She wanted his arms wrapped around her. Antonio frowned and released his grip. He still held the grape and placed it on the plate as he sat back in his chair.
“When last did you eat?” Her voice sounded raspy, and Pearl cleared her throat. “I’m keeping you from your food.”
“At breakfast. About eighteen hours ago. I missed lunch and then….” He shifted and picked up a ham sandwich.
“And then you were told to pack your bags early and protect my sorry ass.”
Antonio chuckled. “Martin gave me a choice.”
“Sure, he did.” Pearl sat back and returned his smile. Her meltdown seemed to have passed, and she concentrated on slow breaths.
He’d touched her. Held her trembling arms. He’d started out with choices—to leave Sri Lanka on an earlier flight and keep an eye on a mother and daughter. A cakewalk. So, why did this feel like so much more? Catching a glimpse of Pearl’s fragility beneath her bravado ramped up his vigilance. She’d be fine.
Once he got her to the States, she’d seek out her family and settle into her new life. And he’d get back to his D.C. routine. After his recent break-up with Bianca, Antonio would be staying away from the opposite sex. His ex-girlfriend had slipped under his defenses and wreaked havoc in his family.
Antonio settled back and devoured the light meal. His gaze ran over Pearl’s casual attire—jeans, sneakers, and a gray t-shirt—which looked completely different from the photos in her file. He’d also looked her up online. While married, she’d hung out with international celebrities and attended endless red-carpet events.
Her polished make-up was in stark contrast to the bare-faced woman sitting beside him, whose flawless skin didn’t need layers of foundation. At twenty-nine, she still looked so young.
Unlike how he felt at thirty years of age—wars took their toll, and Antonio had spent a decade on the battlefield.
Judging from what Antonio had seen, Rajin would soon be caught and arrested for his war crimes. Those revealed tapes had placed him in a dangerous position, and self-preservation would dictate his next move.
The farther away from the bastard that Pearl and the kid got, the better. They’d be fine.
“How long have you been divorced?” He hadn’t just asked that.
“Three months ago, but we’ve been separated for over a year.” Pearl covered her mouth and yawned. “I was proud of the way we handled the divorce—amicably. And then I stumbled upon his secret life.”
“If you hadn’t….”
“I would have been blissfully unaware of the danger.” Pearl glanced over at her sleeping child. “We all have secrets, except some don’t involve killing other humans.”
Antonio raised his brows at her cryptic statement. Growing up in a family that demanded brutal honesty, he sure didn’t have secrets. The mystery surrounding Pearl Bandara grew, and he shoved away his growing interest as he stood and gestured towards the exit.
“Time to go.”
He waited while Pearl woke the kid, and then they were moving towards the gate. As they joined the departure line, Antonio spotted two men watching Pearl. Their focus never wavered as they spoke, and Antonio weighed up the threat. Well-built and capable. No carry-ons.
She looked up, and the taller man immediately turned away—his back blocking his friend.
Fuck.
Antonio stepped to her side and spoke softly. “Stay close, and if I tell you to do something, do it.”
“What’s happened?” Pearl grabbed his jacket, and he eased closer.
“Nothing yet. I’m just reading the crowd.”
The gate agent started checking in passengers, and Antonio used his body to shield the mother and daughter from general view. As they moved closer to the entryway, he began to sweat. The airport provided exfil options—escape funnels, but once they stepped onto that steel tube, they were sitting ducks on the tarmac. Escape and evade opportunities were then limited, and yet this was their only out.
If Pearl remained in Sri Lanka, Rajin would use his mercenary army to find her. She had little hope on Rajin’s turf.
A few minutes later and they were i
n their seats. Pearl sat across the aisle from Antonio, her child, at the window seat. Following his instructions, she slumped down, and kept her head turned away from the aisle as remaining passengers filed past.
Antonio remained standing, and when the two men walked by, he tensed, anticipating a possible confrontation. Both men paused and glanced at Pearl before heading down to the economy cabin. Antonio watched them and noted where they sat. Once the doors were closed, he finally took his seat.
“Thank you for doing this, I really appreciate—”
“Don’t keep thanking me. I was due to return to the States anyway.”
Pearl blushed, and he cursed his abrupt response. Antonio wasn’t good with civilians—a disadvantage in his role as a diplomatic agent. That’s why he wanted to apply for the MSD position. He was born to be a hammer in the field. Niceties and flowery words were not his strong suit. Pearl handed over an iPod and placed a headset on the tyke’s ears.
After clipping his seatbelt, Antonio waited for pushback. When the plane moved, he released a tense breath. His pocket buzzed, and Antonio pulled out his phone. Martin.
Ducking his head, he answered. “What’s up?”
“Rajin is making waves. He knows about Pearl’s discovery. We have a problem. We didn’t get permission from both parents—for travel out of the country—based on the best interests of the child.”
“Rajin knows she’s leaving the country?”
Pearl looked up, fear evident in her wide blue eyes.
“Yes, but he’s not sure when and how. And he’s shouting about parental child abduction and wanting to invoke the protection of The Hague Abduction Convention. He’s mobilized the police and customs. They’re shutting down the airport… train stations… any exfil options out of Sri Lanka. Ambassador Durant has bought you some time, claiming that Pearl is still at the U.S. Embassy. Where are you?”
“Approaching the runway. This is going to be tight.” Antonio glanced back at Pearl’s pale face as she white-knuckled the armrest.
“Sir, you need to turn off your phone.” A flight attendant paused in the aisle. “We’re about to take off.”
