Page 66

“Both. Or… I don’t know, did you ever dream you’d be someone who could have so much impact? That you would one day be the savior to some and Satan to others?”

The clear liquid in his tumbler swishes around the edges as he twirls the glass hanging between two fingers. Vlad drums his fingers along the other armrest, gazing at the unlit floor-to-ceiling fireplace.

“No, never expected it, but I could not deny the want to be the change one day. You and I are unique in the way we were not taught to fight for more, to fight for someone other than ourselves, yet we did. We do every day. That spark was in us from the beginning and grew with our daily challenges. So maybe I did know I would have impact, because for me, there was not another option.”

A beat of silence settles around the room.

Exhaling a deep breath, I raise my glass to my friend. “That was fucking deep.”

Vlad grins. “Thank you.”

“Now, what’s this favor?”

That earlier grin dies and his features harden, not with anger but with almost sadness. Moving to the edge of his seat, he dangles the tumbler between his spread knees. The room expands with anticipation as he inhales deeply and shoots the remaining liquid before resting the glass on a side table.

“It is my girlfriend.”

I gasp. “Is she missing? You need the CIA to look into it?”

“No.” He scoffs. “Your CIA is nothing compared to what I have access to. She’s—”

“Did you kill her?”

“Do not be ridiculous.”

“Does she know she’s your girlfriend?” I say with a cringe. Shit, I hope he doesn’t shoot me.

“Yes, but that is where the trouble is.”

“Vlad—”

“She will not talk to me. Very angry.”

My jaw slacks, leaving me gaping at the clearly distraught man sitting beside me. Heartache is painted across his harsh features. Eyes still wide, I lean between us and rest my nearly full tumbler in his open palm.

He sends a weary smile my way before downing the contents.

“Vlad… friend Vlad. Please, please tell me you didn’t ask me to fly around the globe for us to discuss your relationship problems.”

A knowing grin bunches his cheeks. “Is that not what friends for?”

Chapter Eighteen

Randi

Side by side, we march down a long hall, the walls decorated with ornate picture frames filled with pictures of stoic, cold men frozen in time. I arch a questioning brow at the suit of armor we pass.

“It came with the house,” he says with a laugh.

“I know how that goes.” We take a right, then a left, and go down a set of stairs, seeming to move deeper and deeper into the massive house. “Vlad, I have to tell you, friend. If you’ve locked her in the dungeon, there’s nothing I can do or say that will fix your issues.”

“Not in the dungeon.” His shoulders rise with a cringe.

“Vlad… wheredoyou have her locked?” Trey chuckles beside me, knowing full well I’m at my limit for patience. “You do understand that if she’s held against her will, I will help her escape and then kick your ass.” I take in the bulging man beside me and rethink that statement. “Okay, maybe I’ll have someone else beat you up. But the ass kicking will happen—”

“She is in our room. Not locked or held or bound. I am very concerned at the lack of humanity you think I possess.”

“Eh, well, your predecessors didn’t have much, so I just go based on history.”