My body primed, and I braced for hand-to-hand combat. “Don’t come closer,” I warned.
The second man who’d stood back until now, angled as if anticipating my actions.
“I said, don’t come closer!” I darted frantic glances between the men.
The large room was void of most homey things and seemed to be set up purely as a meeting area. Aside from the large leather couch I’d been dumped on, another sat opposite, with a lone, leather, high-backed chair at the side between them.
“Where’s my mom?” I demanded, getting my thoughts assembled and back on track.
“In her quarters.”
“And where’s that?”
‘You’re not in the position to be asking questions, Miss van Staden.”
I curled my top lip and hissed with impatience. “You’re right. I’ll find out for myself.”
Flying into action, I went straight for the larger guy to take him out first. Big guys were heavy, but they also struggled to keep their balance once tipped. I easily pulled him off balance, turned my back and flipped him over, sending him crashing onto the floor with a heavy thud. While he was down and floundering, I took on the second man. As I went for a grapple, I grabbed one of his fingers and jerked it backward. His quick moment of pain gave me a chance to bolt. One step in, my feet were knocked from under me as the guy on the ground kicked out. I went down, scrambling to stay on my feet until I hit the hardwood floor.
The guy with the broken finger seized his opportunity. With a hard push, he sent me flying again, then straddled my back. With my arms locked hard behind me and the second guy pinning my legs down, I was well and truly fucked.
Echoing voices and approaching footsteps got my attention. Pinned to the ground and panting, I looked up into the eyes of the man I couldn’t forget no matter how hard I tried.
My father.
Chapter Sixteen
Hallie
“Helga,” my father declared and swung his arms wide. “I hear, and see you’ve been quite the handful for my men. I trust Arnauld, Bayron, and Mandla have been treating you well. We’ll deal with the matter of Arno’s death later, of course.”
I cussed and pointlessly fought within Arnauld’s and Bayron’s hold.
One of them at least had the decency to speak up. “We need to have a chat, boss. About hertreatment.”
My father’s eyes turned hard and snapped to the man at my legs.
“In private,” Arnauld added.
“As nice as this is, how about you get the fuck off me?” I hissed, still unable to draw a full breath.
“Do they need to restrain you?” my father asked, arching a light-colored eyebrow.
I growled and bucked again, then sucked in a massive breath when he waved a dismissive arm and both men climbed off me.
I jumped to my feet, puffing hard and on high alert.
“Helga, sit down, please,” my father said softly. “There are many things we need to talk about, and it is long overdue. We’ve been waiting years for this opportunity.”
“Years?” My forehead scrunched in confusion. “What do you mean years?”
“Sit,” he instructed again, then turned to his men. “Leave us. But Arnauld, I’ll talk to you after this.”
Arnauld—the one with a hint of kindness to his blue eyes—nodded, then left with Bayron, who clutched his broken finger.
I turned to my father expectantly. “Well?”
“Your mother going missing wasn’t a coincidence,” he opened with, voice completely void of emotion. “We had a deal.”