Page 4

LOKAN

T he Beijing skyline glittered beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of Lokan's office, a forest of glass and steel reaching toward the smoggy afternoon sky.

He stood with his back to his desk, listening to his assistant rattle off the day's remaining appointments while his mind processed the emoji that had appeared on Carol's phone mere minutes ago.

A sailboat. Such a simple image to upend nearly two years of carefully constructed cover. The sad part was that he and Carol had grown to love the business they were building, and somewhere along the way, it had stopped being just a cover.

It would be difficult to leave everything behind and run. Carol would be heartbroken.

"—and the textile consortium meeting at four," his assistant continued. "Will you need the conference room prepared, sir?"

"Cancel it," Lokan said, turning toward the guy, his voice and expression conveying the same measured calm he'd perfected over centuries. "In fact, cancel everything for the rest of the week."

"Sir?" The guy's eyes turned round.

"I just received word that Moda Devula, our largest buyer in Milan, is canceling their order for next year's spring collection. I have to go there and try to save the situation. Carol and I need to fly out immediately."

Everyone in the office knew that his power of persuasion was unmatched, but it was only effective in person. They assumed it was his charm, and Lokan wanted to believe that it played a part, but mostly it was his compulsion power that did the heavy lifting.

His thralling and compulsion abilities had been growing stronger since he'd mated Carol, and unlike before, he could now manipulate the minds of some immortals in addition to those of humans.

It was just one more benefit of having the most amazing, courageous female in the world as his mate, and given who his aunt was, that was saying something.

Right now, his legendary persuasion powers were an excellent pretext for picking up and leaving on a moment's notice. Later, they might save him and Carol from getting caught by his father's goons.

His assistant wrung his hands. "I understand, sir, but the consortium meeting has been planned for months. Mr. Zhang will be furious."

Lokan put his hand on the guy's slim shoulder. "Apologize profusely and offer to reschedule. I trust you to explain the emergency."

Even though Hai was a spy for the CCP, he was a good guy, and Lokan felt guilty about him finding himself without a job once he realized that his boss was not coming back, and also having to explain to his superiors how he hadn't known his boss was leaving for good.

"Please book two first-class tickets to Milan on the next available flight for me and Carol. And two economy tickets for Samir and Gandel."

He couldn't leave his bodyguards behind without it looking suspicious, but he planned on getting rid of them the same way he'd done many times before when he'd needed to slip away.

"Yes, sir." Hai dipped his head. "Should I arrange the usual hotel?"

"The Principe di Savoia. The penthouse, if it's available." Details mattered. A panicked flight looked like running. A business trip to a familiar hotel seemed more routine. "Also, call the garage. Have them prepare the Mercedes."

As his assistant hurried to comply, Lokan used the landline to call Carol, knowing it was monitored.

"Darling," her voice carried the perfect blend of professional courtesy and intimate suggestion that marked their public relationship. "I was just about to call you."

She'd left the office right after receiving the emoji from Kian, with the excuse of having to prepare for the gala, when in fact she had gone to pack.

"I'm afraid I have bad news about the Moda Devula order," he said, knowing she'd respond appropriately. "They are throwing a tantrum and threatening to cancel the order. We need to fly out tonight to save the situation."

"Tonight? But we have the charity gala to attend—" She broke off with a perfectly timed sigh. "I guess business has to come before pleasure, although the gala is also business."

He chuckled. "In the high fashion world, they often come together. Can you clear the rest of your schedule?"

"Of course, darling. For how many days do I need to pack?"

"A week should do it, but just in case Francesca plays hardball, pack for two."

Hopefully, Carol could fit everything she couldn't part with inside one suitcase and a carry-on.

They wouldn't be returning to Beijing.

"How long do I have?"

"Be ready in about an hour." Lokan set down the phone and walked over to his private bathroom, locking the door behind him.

His go-bag was hidden in the ceiling tiles—cash in multiple currencies, his crypto keys, and several passports for him and Carol with different identities. Everything fit inside a single leather satchel.

In his private quarters, which were adjacent to the office, he changed clothes, trading his business suit for a pair of dark jeans and a cashmere sweater. Comfortable for travel, but still expensive enough to fit his image. The suit went back into the closet.

Back in his office, he made a show of gathering files, his laptop, and various business documents.

His assistant knocked and entered, holding printed airline tickets. "The 7:45 flight to Milan via Munich," he said. "First class was fully booked, but I managed to secure two business class seats together. The layover is long, though, six hours."

That was perfect.

"Excellent work." Lokan made a mental note to have money transferred to Hai's account once they were safe. The guy had been a good assistant, efficient and discreet. "I'll need you to handle things here while I'm gone."

Hai dipped his head. "Of course, sir."

Lokan found his bodyguards in their usual spots, one by the elevator and one by the stairwell. Professional, alert, and completely unaware they were guarding someone who'd been feeding intelligence to their greatest enemy for years.

"We are leaving in an hour," Lokan announced. "Urgent business in Milan."

Gandel, the senior of the two, frowned. "This is sudden."

"I have to save this deal or we go under. We invested heavily in new equipment to take on this order. I need to charm Francesca in person."

"Is Carol going with you?" Samir asked.

"Naturally. Now stop asking questions and go pack your things. We don't have much time."

The guards exchanged glances. They were good soldiers, trained to follow protocol, but Lokan was their boss, and even though they reported to Navuh, technically they were supposed to answer to him.

"The car will be here in forty-five minutes." He checked his watch with apparent impatience.

Lokan returned to his private apartment and began packing. Most of his belongings were at Carol's, and she knew what to pack for him, but he needed to maintain appearances and get to the car with at least a carry-on.

His bodyguards were down in the garage already, waiting by the car, and as he rode down in the elevator, he thought about the plan he'd memorized for months.

Milan was a feint, of course. They'd never make it past Munich. But the guards would continue to Milan without them, controlled by his thrall and compulsion. They would stay in the hotel and pretend that Lokan and Carol were there, maintaining the ruse for as long as possible.

His guards were standing by his gleaming black Mercedes. He'd miss it, oddly enough. Two years of driving Beijing's chaotic streets, Carol beside him, laughing at his cursing in languages no one else understood.

When he pulled up into the garage of her building she was already waiting, a vision in designer clothes and carefully applied makeup, every inch the successful businesswoman. Two Louis Vuitton suitcases and a matching carry-on stood to attention beside her.

"Darling," Carol purred as he stepped out of the car and opened the door for her. "This is terribly inconvenient. I hope Milan is worth missing the gala."

"I'll make it up to you," he promised, playing his part.

When they were seated in the car, he turned around and looked at his bodyguards, and after implanting a thought in both of their minds to go to sleep, he watched them slump in their seats.

Thankfully, the two weren't particularly strong-minded, so his thralling and compulsion worked on them to some extent. It wouldn't be as strong or last as long as it would on humans, but it would still do the job.

Leaning over, he planted a kiss on Carol's mouth. "It finally happened. We are going home."

A brilliant smile spread over her face. "It was time to go. I don't know what prompted the emergency evacuation, but I'm glad."

He put the car in gear and drove out. "Kian is convinced that my father is hiding things from me, which means he suspects me of being disloyal."

Carol frowned. "He's been suspecting that for a long time. What has changed?"

"Kian has just prevented four major terror attacks that the Brotherhood was planning in cooperation with the Revolutionary Guard.

The captured Doomers shared a worrying story about chemical enhancements that have been ongoing for over a year, which I was previously unaware of.

No one has mentioned to me the laboratory that has been built on the island or the scientist who was experimenting on our people.

That means that my father instructed everyone to keep it from me. "

Carol reached over and took his hand. "I'm glad that we made it out in time."

He winced. "I hope. Let's not celebrate before we are safe in the village."

She glanced at the bodyguards sleeping in the backseat. "According to the plan, we will give them the slip in Munich, and they will continue to Milan. Are you sure you can pull it off?"

He nodded. "They will stay in our hotel suite and keep up appearances for as long as possible."

Carol leaned back in her seat and let out a breath. "We are so fortunate that you can thrall and compel immortals. None of this would have been possible otherwise."