The walls of the room shrank. “I was at a business meeting with Prince Heinrich Von Stratton.”
“All night?” She cocked an eyebrow.
“The prince keeps late hours.”
“Can he corroborate your story?”
“He could, but he won’t,” I said. “The nature of our business was—” I paused, searching for the proper term. “Delicate.”
Chapter 23
Rourke
Mr. McElroy greeted me at the door of his home with a smile. “Come in. Come in. Judy said to send you her regrets. She had some kind of luncheon thing today, so it’s just the two of us.”
“Oh, well, I’ll miss her. Be sure to give her my love.” Being alone with him in the giant townhouse set my nerves on edge. I glanced down the empty hallways and listened for sounds of the household staff. Silence greeted my ears.
He gestured toward the leather sofa in front of the fireplace. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m glad you reached out to me. I’ve been worried about you. This business with Roman—it’s a terrible thing. You must be horrified.”
“It was certainly unexpected.” My insides quaked. This wasn’t the time for a panic attack. The events of this meeting could shape Roman’s future. Why hadn’t I formulated some kind of strategy prior to barging over here? I brushed my sweaty palms over the fabric of my skirt before clasping them together in my lap.
“There’s no need to beat yourself up about it. A man with Roman’s appetites will never be satisfied with just one woman, even one as spectacular as you. I’ll do everything in my power to get you out of this mess.”
The cherubs and naked women of the ceiling mural stared down at me, judgment in their round, angelic eyes.
Mr. McElroy opened the heavy doors of an antique Italian liquor cabinet and withdrew an elaborately decorated silver box. He lifted the lid to reveal a mirrored interior, matching brandy snifters, and an ornate silver bottle. With his back to me, he filled the glass with an inch of golden liquid. “Would you like some?”
“No. I’m fine, thank you.” I sucked in a breath and gathered my courage. “I’m not here about a divorce. I’m here because I know about you and Lavender.”
He froze for a fraction of a second then placed the snifter into a warmer fashioned from elaborately intertwined gold vines and lit the tea candle underneath. Except for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner and the occasional honk of a car horn from the street, silence filled the room. He placed both hands on the top of the bar and stared at the counter for an eternity before turning to face me. “What, exactly is it that you think you know?” he asked, his tone unexpectedly mild.
“That you had a longstanding affair. That you were at her apartment the night she died. And there are witnesses.”
He stared into the brandy, slowly swirling the contents around the glass. “Not anymore.”
“What does that mean?” My heart pounded furiously against my chest.
“It means those people no longer exist.” He sank into the chair across from me.
A cold chill ran down my back. Although he could have been bluffing, something in his tone suggested otherwise. “I have pictures—photographs—taken from a neighboring security camera.”
“I don’t believe you.” Danger sharpened his words. He rested an ankle on the opposite knee, assuming the pose of a man who feared very little.
I called the pictures up on my phone and flashed them beneath his nose. His expression remained bland, his breathing unhurried. After a minute, he waved my hand away. “Don’t underestimate the scope of my authority. I’ve been playing this game since before you were born. Roman’s father tried it, and look what happened to him.”
The chill turned into icy fingers, threatening to strangle me. I swallowed and sat back against the plush cushions to do the math. Mr. McElroy was in his seventies. Everly had been a late child from Judy, his much-younger second wife. He would have been in his twenties when Roman’s parents had died. I pressed a hand to my mouth, feeling the bile crawl up my throat. “I don’t think you should be telling me these things.”
“Why not? We’re old friends, right? And I trust you.” When I didn’t answer, he took a sip of the brandy, closed his eyes, and nodded. “Mmmm. Very good. It’s Hennessey. Two hundred grand for this bottle. I guarantee you’ve never tasted anything like it. Are you sure you don’t want some?”
“No.” My frustration began to grow.
His tone gentled. “Do the right thing here, Rourke. Are you going to cling to this husband of yours, a reject from his own government, a man who deals in weapons and war? Or are you going to side with your country and me, a decorated war veteran and former Vice President?”
I curled my fingers into fists. My nails bit into the flesh of my palms. The pain helped center my thoughts. I forced aside the dismay to be processed at a later date. Right now, Roman was my only focus. “You’re pointing fingers at Roman, but you’re the dangerous one.”
“Not dangerous, Rourke. Committed. Because I’m the kind of man who gets the job done. You don’t think I got to this position without stepping on a few toes, do you?” He shook his head and paused for another sip of brandy. The soft, silky texture of his voice frightened me more than a knife to my throat. “You’re playing with fire.”
“I’m not playing, sir,” I replied. “I set those photographs to go out in a social media blast in an hour.” I glanced at the delicate silver watch Roman had given me on my birthday. “Make that fifty minutes.”
“Photographs don’t mean shit without corroborating evidence.” He tapped the thick gold band of his wedding ring against the glass in his hand. The sound, meshed with the ticking grandfather clock, set my frayed nerves on edge. After a few minutes of contemplation, he placed the snifter in the center of the coffee table, rested his elbows on the tops of his thighs, and clasped his hands between his knees. “You know, I like Roman. He’s smart, ambitious, and has a cutthroat approach to business—traits I can respect in a man. I’d hoped Ivan’s death would be enough to put him back on track, but he jumped ship and sided with Androvia. Needless to say, I’m very disappointed.”
The scope of his treachery sucked the wind from my lungs. I tried to inhale through my nose and remain outwardly calm. “I trusted you. You were like a father to me.”
“And I’ve always considered you to be a second daughter.” His weighted sigh floated on the air between us. “Here’s the thing. I don’t take kindly to blackmail. Not from you. Not from anyone. We both want something, so let’s get down to business, shall we? I want Roman to end his liaison with Androvia and Kitzeh. If you can get him to cut ties with those countries, I’ll have him cleared of all charges.”
“Oh, Daddy. No.” Everly’s voice floated from the doorway. I had no idea how much she’d heard, but the downturned corners of her mouth suggested enough. Or maybe she already knew? Betrayal sliced through my chest, sharp and deep, for a third time.
“What are you doing here?” Remorse flickered in his eyes as his head snapped up.
“Mom said I could borrow her red dress for a charity auction tomorrow night.” The vibrant-colored gown dangled over her arm. Her gaze met mine. Hurt and resignation mingled in the depths of her blue eyes.
“How much of that did you hear?” The rough edges of his voice scraped over my ears.
“Enough to know you’re not the man I thought you were.”
“Don’t be naive. Get in here.” He rose to his feet and motioned for Everly to join us. “I tried to protect the both of you from the ugliness of my business, but I can see that was a waste of time. You need to grow up. The world is a brutal place made up of leaders and sheep. Where you fall on the spectrum of power is completely up to you.”
“Everything you taught me was a lie,” Everly said, her voice high and thin with shock as she sank down beside me. “Kindness, honesty, loyalty—you don’t represent any of those things.”
“Those are noble ideas, but they don’t always ge
t the job done. Don’t be ungrateful.” His voice rose to a thunderous shout. “I’ve made hard choices—not all of them pretty—to protect my family and country, and I’ll continue doing so as long as I’ve got breath in my body.”
“I’m so sorry, Rourke.” Everly’s face crumpled. “I’m not part of this. I swear.”
“I know.” I covered my hand with hers, grateful for her declaration.
“Daddy, you need to make this right.” The graceful line of her shoulders squared. “If you don’t fix this, I’ll never speak to you again.”
“Don’t be melodramatic.” The lines of his forehead deepened in a scowl. “We both know you’re not serious. Let’s see how far you get without an allowance from me.”
“I don’t give a fuck about your blood money.” The quiet fury in her voice caused my head to snap up. Mr. McElroy had always been her hero. I’d never heard her disrespect him.
“Don’t take that tone with me,” he roared. “Your loyalty lies with me and not her.”
“You lost my respect when you cheated on Mother with Lavender, but you lost my loyalty when you threatened Rourke.” She squeezed my hand. My heart ached for her. I knew how hard those words were for her. At the same time, I admired her spunk. “Come on, Rourke. We need to go.”
I wanted to go with her, but I had my own battles to wage. Roman’s fate depended on whatever happened in this room.
“Everly can leave,” he said, jerking his chin toward the door. “I’ll have Lance drive you home. But Rourke, you and I have business to finish.”
“If I walk out that door without Rourke, you’ve lost me forever,” she said.
I sat on the sofa, biting the inside of my cheek, and struggled to contain my surprise.
Mr. McElroy paced the length of the room twice, his expression calm but his agitation belied in the fists curled at his sides.
Lance stepped into the study, a smirk on his clean-shaven face. His eyes met mine at once. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Menshikov.”
“I’m disappointed in you,” I said quietly. “I liked you.”
“And I liked you, too. But Mr. McElroy made me an offer I couldn’t resist. I don’t intend to be a rich woman’s bodyguard for the rest of my life.”
“I’m sure.” I smiled pleasantly, my sweet tone dripping with acid. The longer I played their game, the easier it became to follow their rules.
“Lance has been invaluable to me. He kept tabs on you and was able to obtain Roman’s DNA from your penthouse,” McElroy said and shifted to face me. “Take a lesson, Rourke. It’s always good to have an insider on your payroll.”
“I’ll remember that,” I replied. My stomach churned.
“Lance, drive Everly home, would you?”
“No.” Everly’s tone reeked of obstinance. “I meant what I said. I want nothing more from you.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“Call me when you leave, Rourke, and let me know you’re okay,” Everly said. Lines of worry bracketed her mouth. “And don’t worry. I’ll make this right.”
“I know you will,” I replied.
Mr. McElroy waited until she left the room, Lance trailing behind her, before he spoke. “She’s always been a handful, but she’ll come around.”
“I think you’re underestimating her. You always have.”
He shrugged. “She’ll make a fuss for a short time, but eventually, she’ll do as she’s told.” He steepled his fingers in front of him, his cool gaze locking onto mine. “You know, now that I’ve had some time to think, I believe I’m done with negotiations. Things will be much simpler for me without you and your husband around.” He shook his head. The sinister smirk on his lips made my heart lurch in fear. “You may walk out of here today, but never stop looking over your shoulder. It might be a car wreck. A plane accident. Or, my personal favorite, an active shooter at a restaurant. The options are endless.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. For the first time, it occurred to me that I might not leave the townhouse alive. Why hadn’t I listened to Spitz?
I glanced at the window. Graves was outside with the car but too far away to hear me if I screamed. On instinct, I pressed a hand to my belly and my unborn child. In an instant, my dreams became crystal clear. I wanted to use the power Roman had offered to make a difference in the world. I wanted to be a wife to him and a mother to his children. The revelation bolstered my courage. I tapped the face of my watch. “Do I need to remind you that the photographs will go viral in thirty minutes?” The inside of my mouth felt dry as cotton. I licked my cracked lips, trying to remain calm.
“Idle threats.” His flat gaze met mine, completely devoid of warmth or emotion. “You’re too nice, Rourke. You’d never hurt Judy or Everly that way.”
“Try me,” I replied.
Chapter 24
Roman
After a healthy contribution to the non-profit organization of the judge’s nephew, my bail was set at a million dollars and I was free to go until the preliminary trail. Spitz and Kellie met me at the front of the jail. A throng of reporters, journalists, and TV cameras jostled for positions at the street, eager to sensationalize my story.
“We’re going to step outside, and I’m going to make a statement for you.” She glanced over me with a critical eye. “The media is on the fence—half of them are screaming for your blood and the other half, the female half, is rooting for you.” She straightened my tie and collar with business-like intensity. “Don’t speak to anyone. I’ll do all the talking. Try to look engaged and confident.”
Spitz opened the door. My security team converged on us, shielding me from the wall of onlookers. I winced at the bright sunlight. With cool poise, Kellie stepped up to the microphone. All of the major television stations were present. They shouted questions until she tapped the microphone, requesting silence. I stood behind her, making a point to meet the eyes of each person, hands clasped in front of me, grateful for the fresh air. I searched the crowd for Rourke’s blond head. Where was she? In the car?
“Mr. Menshikov will not be making a statement this morning.” At the ensuing groans, she lifted a hand. “As his attorney, I’m confident our legal system will acquit him of all charges, and justice will be served. Thank you. There will be no questions.”
My men formed a wall around us, herding us to the waiting Maybach. When we slipped into the cool interior of the car, I exhaled a long and heavy sigh. Relief blanketed me, releasing a tension I’d been unaware of before now. Rourke was nowhere to be found. My spirits plummeted.
“Where’s my wife?” I asked.
“She went to see McElroy,” Spitz replied, his mouth thinning into a line of displeasure.
“And you let her go? What the fuck?” Blood roared through my ears as my blood pressure rocketed. I tapped out a quick text to her: Where are you? Call me ASAP.
“For the record, she went without my consent. She’s as stubborn as you are.” He scratched his freshly shaved chin. “Graves is with her, and her driver. She didn’t want to alarm McElroy with an entourage of security.”
I gripped my forehead. Pain bounced between my temples.
Kellie studied us, her dark eyes teeming with respect. “Your wife is quite the spitfire, Mr. Menshikov. Not every woman has the balls to show up at my office then throw a fit in my reception area until I agreed to meet her.”
“She’s one of a kind,” I said. My wife had taken control of the situation in a fashion worthy of a war queen. Pride expanded my chest. “She’s a force to be reckoned with.”
Kellie nodded. “I’m impressed.” Her voice lowered. “I’m not sure what you’re involved in, Mr. Menshikov, but you’re playing a dangerous game with dangerous people. You need to be very careful.”
“Your candor is appreciated.” I nodded. “And duly noted.”
The Maybach drew to a halt in a nearby parking garage. Kellie hesitated before opening the door. “I’m leaving town for a few days, but my aides are working on your case as we sp
eak. Give me a call if you need me. You’ve got my cell.” We shook hands, and she exited the car.
The moment the door closed, I shifted into business mode. “Take me to Rourke.” If anything happened to her, I’d never forgive myself. She meant more to me than all the money, cars, and homes in my possession. I’d sacrifice everything to have her in my arms and safe.
“I texted her as soon as you were released, but she hasn’t answered. Graves says she’s still with McElroy.” He studied his phone, brows drawn together over his nose.
“Get me over there. Now.”
The drive to McElroy’s townhouse took forever. When the driver announced my name at the gate, the guard nodded, as if he’d been expecting me. On the front steps of the house, I rang the doorbell.
A woman, dressed in a black uniform, answered the door. “Good afternoon, Mr. Menshikov. Mr. McElroy would like you to join him and your wife in the study.”
I followed her down a wide hall. Generations of McElroys stared down at us from portraits in heavy gold frames. She opened a set of double doors and stepped to one side for me to pass. Rourke sat on one of the twin leather sofas in front of the fireplace, her complexion pale. Her eyes met mine. Relief, joy, and fear greeted me in their soft blue depths. I ignored McElroy, who stood as I entered, and went straight to her side. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m fine. Are you?” She steadied my face between her palms for inspection.
“Absolutely, thanks to you.” I pulled her into my embrace and squeezed until she squirmed. The scent of her hair and the softness of her body melted my heart in a thousand different ways. “What are you doing here?”
“She came to negotiate on your behalf.” McElroy interrupted our reunion. “And she’s doing a damn fine job of it, I have to say.”
“Of course she is.” I stroked a fingertip along the curve of her cheek.
“Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to come to an agreement.” He studied us from his position on the sofa. “I’m forgetting my manners. Can I offer you a cigar, Roman, or a brandy?”
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