“I have reason to believe Oleg is in possession of certain evidence,” Vladimir says. “You’re going to get it for me.”
The woman starts to struggle. The man’s face pulls into a mask of concentration as he pumps his hips faster to finish the performance.
“How am I supposed to do that?” Bes asks.
Turning to him, Vladimir says, “The instructions are encrypted on a flash drive.”
A guard jumps forward, handing Bes the plastic casing with the drive.
“I’ll let you figure out a way,” Vladimir says with a cold smile. “Your file states you have a high IQ. I’m sure you’ll get creative. You do this, and I’ll turn a blind eye to your mistakes.”
Thumping sounds rattle the glass behind Vladimir.
Bes weighs the casing in his palm. Wisely, he doesn’t turn down the deal. “By when do you need this evidence?”
Vladimir turns back to the show. He’s just in time to see the life wash out of the woman’s eyes. At long last, the male comes, pulling out so Vladimir can see the jets of ejaculate he shoots into the water. “The sooner, the better.”
Kicking with his feet, the man swims up to the surface, his heavy cock drifting flaccidly between his legs. Finally, Vladimir grows hard. Maybe he’ll order the male dancer to his upstairs room tonight.
“Fine,” Bes says. “But that doubles my price.”
Natasha’s body drifts like a four-pointed star in the water, her long blond hair billowing around her face. She makes a peaceful picture.
For the first time in weeks, Vladimir breathes easily again. All he needed was to take back the control. Facing Bes, he says, “Get the evidence and finish Volkov, and you’ll get your money.”
The assassin stands.
“If Oleg finds out what’s going on, if he so much as catches a whiff of it, you’re dead,” Vladimir says. “Is that clear?”
Bes’s gaze drifts over Vladimir’s shoulder toward the pool. “Crystal.”
“Good,” Vladimir says, feeling much better.
5
Kate
Opening my eyes, I blink in momentary confusion. My emotionally drained mind wants to sink back into the relief of oblivious sleep, but something harping at the back of it urges me to wake up. Slowly, I surface to full consciousness.
I’m lying on a bed under a soft blanket. It’s so dark I can’t see my hand in front of my face, but I don’t need my eyesight to know this isn’t Alex’s bed in New York City. This isn’t the house I moved into with him. Then the cobwebs lift, and I remember. That little something in the back of my mind crystalizes into clarity as the memories flood back.
I sit up and stretch out an arm to feel my way. Velvet brushes against my fingertips. The bed curtains. Scrunching the fabric in my hand, I pull it aside. Light penetrates the inky darkness. A nightstand lamp throws a soft glow over the room. Someone must’ve closed the bed curtains after I’d fallen into an exhausted sleep. Lena, maybe. I find the idea of her being in the room while I was napping disconcerting.
Despite the comfortable temperature in the room, I shiver a little as I get up. The time on my watch says it’s seven o’clock. I napped for two hours. My wrung-out body and mind needed the rest. I’d been working long shifts at the hospital for two weeks straight. Physically, I’m still playing catch-up, and the mini breakdown I had at discovering I’m locked in didn’t help.
Pricking up my ears, I listen for sounds. The house is quiet. Eerily so. Rubbing my hands over my arms, I head to the dressing room and find a warm cardigan that I pull on over my sweater. I catch sight of myself in the full-length mirror. My slacks are wrinkled from sleeping in them. My hair is disheveled, the waves untamed. I smooth down my hair with my palms and don’t bother to find shoes. I pad on my sock-clad feet to the window and pull the drapes open a crack. Whoever closed the bed curtains must’ve also closed these.
The powerful spray lights don’t leave a single corner of the garden in the shadows. As earlier, men patrol the perimeter of the wall and stand guard at the gates.
Taking a moment to go over everything that’s happened since last night, I consider my options. Now that I’m calmer, I can think clearer.
I’m locked in the house. Tima and Lena won’t help me. I don’t have access to a phone. Whatever liberties I’m allowed from now on will happen at the sole discretion of Alex, which means it’s in my best interest to appease him. Somehow, I’ll have to win back his trust. Seeing that he’s broken my trust, that will be very hard for me to do. But how am I supposed to sit here and do nothing while Alex is out there risking his life? How am I supposed to bear the thought that something might happen to him while my hands are tied?