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Carys
Ekaterina answers my last few questions with ease and then says, “So that was Finn Donaghey.”
“It was.” I gather my papers together into a neat pile.
“Rare for me to find a man intimidating.”
I glance up and a smile plays on my lips. “Was he a little intense?”
“A little? Were we in the same room? The guy is all coiled rage and X-ray vision.” She drops her phone into her purse and rises from her seat. “Are you—are you safe with him?”
Before I can answer, Jay chuckles on the other side of the large wooden table. “You were the only person in this room who wasn’t safe today.” He frowns as he picks up his pen. “And maybe me.” With a shrug, he says, “Point is, he’s not a threat to her.”
“Why would he leave so abruptly?” Her expression is thoughtful. “He gave me that appraising once-over before he left, which meant something.”
“Probably wondering how easy it would be to remove your head.” Jay’s voice is matter of fact, and if it wasn’t for the horror on her face, I’d laugh.
“We do business differently,” I assure her.
“Well, if you ever do business like him, I’m quitting.”
Jay grins while he waves her out the door of the boardroom. “You know what Finn told me? Dying or going to jail were the only ways people got out of his organization in Boston. That’s not Carys’s policy.” He takes a breath. “At least not yet.”
Ekaterina walks along the hall beside him, their voices floating back to the boardroom. His words shouldn’t be funny. Her face when Jay mentioned removing her heard was priceless, and her expression plays in my mind while I shred papers. When I’m sure I’ve hidden the paper trail, I head for the kitchen.
The sharp click of Lena’s knife is audible before I reach her. As soon as I enter the wide-open space, I glimpse Finn wedged deep into a couch watching football.
Normally I’d chat with Lena to confirm dinner plans, but he exited the meeting so abruptly I want to check in with him first.
“You okay?” I sink into the spot beside him.
He grunts and doesn’t look at me. “Just trying to figure out what we’re missing. There’s a clear timeline with Valeriya and Eric. It appears as though it’s linked to the warehouse and the PLA. But it might not be. Then there’s your father’s involvement, which doesn’t seem connected. But I heard them talking in the hotel, so I realize it is.” He rubs his forehead. “I fucking hate sitting around waiting for shit to happen. I make things happen. People don’t come at me—I hit them first.”
“That’s why you left the meeting?”
He chuckles, but the sound is without humor. “No. I excused myself because I wanted to drag Ekaterina behind the house and show her what her kind of initiative gets. Six fucking feet under.”
Silence sits between us. My heart pounds as I picture him hauling her out of the meeting. His admission is appealing and horrifying. Something isn’t right with me. To love a man capable of that, who would enjoy that, seems wrong. It is wrong. But nothing about being with him is wrong to me. Not even a bit.
“We had a miscommunication.” I rub his leg, and he links his fingers with mine.
“Almost got you killed.” He squeezes my hand.
“But I’m still alive. And her intentions were good.”
He turns to face me for the first time since I sat. His knuckles skim my cheek. “What she said means Eric and Valeriya were probably fucking.”
“That crossed my mind.”
“She called the Chicago office before leaving for Ireland. He admitted to your father he knew what happened to her.”
“You don’t have to dance around it. You think he had her killed.”
Finn is silent for a moment, lost in thought. “So was she going to the PLA for protection? To blow the whistle on something Eric was doing? Does the PLA meeting have anything to do with this at all?”
I lean my head against his shoulder. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know. But I will. I have three weeks to understand these connections before Eric makes his move.”
~ * ~
The last two weeks have passed without incident. During the day, I hole up in my office attempting to stay on top of everything at work. Sometimes I worry I neglected my company for months instead of a couple weeks. Maybe I did. God knows from the minute I saw him in Boston, half my brain zeroed in on him. I never quite got my mind back. Now I don’t want to return to whoever I’d been before.
While I work, Finn and Jay track any lead they can find on Eric or my father. Finn is dogged, possessed, determined to find the truth before the clock ticks to zero. On the phone, on the internet, conferencing with people, calling in favors, and still nothing has turned up that satisfies him. He’s even offered to fly to Chicago to shoot Eric and bury his body in my father’s backyard. He was mostly kidding. I laughed and told him I’d be too sad if he was arrested by the FBI to be happy about Eric’s demise.
I should care more. Whatever they’re planning should bother me the same way it does him. But I can’t imagine he could ever say or do something great enough to sway me. Spending my days working in my office and my nights in Finn’s arms, striving for the stars, is a new bliss. Happiness is an addiction. Leaving him will be hard when I have to go back to Chicago for a while, but I’m not worried. We’re solid—I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life as I am with him, with us.
In the kitchen, Lena peers at a security monitor on the wall. Finn has had cameras installed at the end of the long laneway, so we have lots of warning regarding visitors.
I stab at my salad and observe her staring at the screen.
“You recognize the car?” she asks.
I squint and shrug. “Generic. Rental? Or a limousine service?”
“You’d better call Finn.” She waves a hand at the monitor as she goes back to prepping dinner.
“I’ll text Jay.” I pick up my phone from the island. Lena shoots me a disapproving look. “What? He’s the head of my security, not Finn.”
Lena scoffs. “I don’t understand why you take such a perverse pleasure in pissing him off.”
I take a bite of my salad while I text Jay with the other hand. There’s a line with him I can tiptoe over. Finn on the cusp of real anger is my favorite. Texting Jay right now instead of alerting him will mean Finn will find me later, and he’ll be angry with me. But not too angry. The kind of anger fueled by his love for me, his need to protect me. Those needs lead to my needs being met in interesting ways. Me bent over a desk, pressed up against a wall, flat on my back with him murmuring how much he fucking loves me in my ear. Delicious.
So...I text Jay and give Lena an amused smile.
No time passes before Jay comes into the kitchen, his phone in his hand. “You got a beat on who is in the car?”
“Tinted windows.” I put my plate in the dishwasher.
“Finn’s on his way.” His expression is all-knowing. “He’s pissed you didn’t text him.”
I suppress my smile.
“One of these times this whole rile-him-up-and-have-him-work-out-his-anger-in-other-ways won’t go the way you expect,” he warns.
“Finn would never hurt me.”
“Not you I’m worried about.” He peers at the monitor.
My back is turned to the monitors, contemplating Jay’s words, when he lets out a low whistle. “Carys, Mrs. Van de Berg has finally stepped foot in Switzerland.”
“What?” I gasp. In the years we’ve owned this place, my mother has never ventured here. She’s aware of Lena, and my father’s mistresses around the world, so she picks her vacations strategically. She’s admitted none of her suspicions out loud. As a key member of the business, I have the locations of his long-term affairs memorized, and my mother has never gone to any of those houses.
Lena unties her apron, bundles it up, and shoves it into a drawer. “I’m going to my room.”
I nod but can’t tear myself from the screen. The woman is my mother, but her appearance is disorienting. Why would she come here?
A hand skims my spine and lips nibble at my earlobe. A shudder of desire rocks through me, and I press myself against him. He draws me tight to his body so I’m aware of every wonderful inch.
“You should have texted me,” he growls into my ear.
“It’s my mother,” I whisper as the woman scans the house and fixes her blouse. I inherited her hourglass figure, light brown eyes, and blondish colored hair. When I was younger, people used to call us twins. Back then, the comparison felt like a compliment.
“Your mother?” Finn’s tone goes from angry to surprised. “Opal is here?” He peers around me to take in the screen. “Well, I’ll be damned. This can’t be fucking good.”
Jay’s walkie-talkie blares out. “I’ve got a Mrs. Opal Van de Berg at the door requesting to meet with her daughter. Can you confirm?” The security guard’s voice is professional, but he must wonder why my mother didn’t make the list of safe contacts to enter the house.
Jay yanks his walkie-talkie out of his belt. “Roger that. Show her in.” His gaze rotates between me and Finn. “I guess we’ll see why Mommy dearest decided to come for a visit.”
Has something happened to my father? I don’t dare speak the words out loud. The thought of him dead or injured should be horrifying, but it’s not.