Page 39

39

UNKNOWN NUMBER

RORY

I ’d planned to scale the wall again, but when I attempt to sneak past the gate, I notice the guard house is empty.

According to my watch, it’s barely two a.m. Unusual—but I’ll take it. Anything to avoid climbing the eight-foot wall again in these heels.

Pushing open the gate, I scurry up the driveway before Sasha returns, cringing at every crunch of gravel under my boots.

As expected, the side door’s unlocked. I enter the dark and silent house, but as I start down the hall, an overwhelming sense of unease creeps into me. Nothing appears to be amiss, but the mansion seems darker than usual, and there’s an odd smell in the air. I can’t quite pinpoint what it is, but it just smells… off.

Keeping my heels off the floor, I cross on hurried tiptoes across the parlor to check the back terrace. The lights are out, but after watching for a minute, there’s no moving shadow of a guard out there.

My father has been keeping security light, but this isn’t right. For both guards to go missing from their posts?

I stand awkwardly in the shadows of the darkened parlor—unsure of what to do. I should go right up to my bedroom, lock the door and hide under the covers until morning, but I just can’t seem to move my feet.

The vibration of the phone in my pocket nearly scares me to death; my heart hammers in my chest. Calm down, you’re probably freaking out about nothing… I tell myself as I peer down at the text. It’s from an unknown number.

Unknown: “Home safe?”

It has to be from Aidan, but before I can type out a reply, loud voices carry in from the direction of my father’s study. Angry voices.

Swallowing hard, I pocket my phone and slowly creep closer to the hallway to make out what the voices are saying. I don’t recognize them. The man is shouting in Russian, demanding payment for something. A glass breaks and I flinch so hard I nearly fall over. A few dull thumping sounds follow the crash, each one accompanied by a groan or pained grunt.

Did Papa bring someone here to get money out of them? He has places for that…

Why would he bring them to the mansion?

After a few more of those thumping sounds, I gather up the nerve to peek around the corner; immediately pulling back, heart pounding harder at the sight of two armed men, dressed in black, standing guard in front of the study door.

And not all black designer suits like my father prefers; all black tactical gear. Military raid style.

Chest heaving, I press myself up against the wall, biting my lip. After a minute, when no one comes looking, I shakily back up a few feet. Freaking out again when I pass by the front window, spotting at least two more men—dressed the same as the two in the hall, conversing with each other out in the driveway.

I scramble away from the window, then completely freeze in panic when the angry Russian man shouts again. This time, I’m close enough to hear him.

“It’s very simple Adrik?—”

My throat catches, realizing the man shouting is addressing my father.

“—you knew the terms when you borrowed the money. Pay up and we can be done with this ugly business.”

For the first time, I hear my father’s voice, sounding more pinched than I’ve ever heard it, “I just need a couple of weeks. Let me talk to Ronan. We can work something out.”

The sound of what I’ve realized is another fist hitting flesh has me chewing the inside of my cheek. They’re hitting him—hitting my father.

“Who do you think sent us, Kostalov?” The Russian man laughs sadistically. I take a step back out of instinct. “You should know better than to make a deal and not deliver.”

I rack my brain for the name Ronan . When you’re quiet, you hear more than you should and I have a small bank in my head of my father’s contacts: friends and foes. But I don’t think I’ve ever heard a Ronan mentioned before…

“Fuck you, Ivan and fuck Volkov too,” my father hisses.

My blood turns to ice.

I may have never heard of Ronan, but I certainly know Volkov . What the fuck is Adrik doing pissing off the Russian wolves? My father might control most of the East Coast but the Volkov control all Bratva business.

More shattering glass and the sound of something wooden breaking… “That’s a real shame Adrik, are you sure you don’t want to reconsider? I have it on good authority your daughter is upstairs right now, asleep in her little bed. Shall we go fetch her?” I can hear the malicious smile in Ivan’s words.

A string of expletives stream out of my father, but I don’t wait around to hear the rest. Remembering the Russian wolves out front, as quietly as I can, I fly down the hall, veering away from the stairs and heading for the kitchen and the back door.

At the last second, I think to check before racing around the corner and pull back in horror when I spot more of those armed men by the kitchen door.

Shit.

Back in the foyer, the study door crashes open behind me and I don’t think. Instinctively, I scamper up the stairs—the only option left to me—tripping over my own feet in my haste.

I run past my room—not even an option since that’s where they’re headed—and pace frantically up and down the hall, trying to think where else to hide. An idea pops in my head and I open my room, locking the door before shutting it again. Maybe that will buy some time.

Still in the hallway, the sound of boots on the stairs sends me flying into the closest door, the guest room next to my own. I eye the bed but end up jumping into the small closet.

Heart racing, I pull the closet door closed, leaving a crack open so I have a clear line of sight to the hall door. There isn’t much in the closet, except for a few old fur coats that smell like they might date back to the Russian Revolution. I press as far back as I can, but if someone opens the door—it’s game over.

Sinking down, I curl up in a ball, wrapping my arms around my knees and trying to calm myself down enough to think.Remembering the knife I still have strapped to my thigh, I pull it out, gripping it tightly in one hand. The door to my room shakes violently as someone tries forcing their way in.

“Aurora?” Ivan sing-songs my name with false sweetness. “Aurora darling, open up. Your father would like to see you in his study.”

I tremble, almost dropping the knife, thinking about what would have happened if I’d actually stayed in bed like I should have tonight.

“Aurora?” Ivan tries again, sweetness gone. When he receives no answer, he barks out, “Get it open.”

The sound of someone attempting to kick the door down fills my ears. The mansion is old and well built; my door is constructed of thick and heavy wood, but even I know it won’t last long against these guys.

My forgotten phone rings, the vibrations shattering the quiet, and I curse, fumbling with the device, scrambling to silence the call. Even on vibrate, the sound seems so loud. I hold my breath once I’ve silenced it, waiting to see if anyone else heard it…

They’re still loudly working on breaking down the door. And by the sounds of splintering wood—they’re almost through.

My phone is still in my hands when it goes off again, and I stare blankly at the device. An unknown number appears on the screen.

Carefully, I slide my thumb across the screen to answer the call, eyeing the hall door through the crack in the closet as I do. “Aidan?” I whisper as loudly as I dare.

It’s him alright. Aidan’s voice blasts through the speaker,“Kostalova, why the fuck didn’t you text me when you got home? I told you?—”

I swallow hard, only half listening to him rage on the other end, the crashing sounds coming from my room distracting me… they’ve broken through. For once, Aidan isn’t my biggest problem.

“You better have a damn good reason for not sending that text, love, or trust me when I say there will be consequences. ”

Despite everything going on, my stomach does a flip at the thought of what Aidan’s consequences might be… Just then, something crashes hard against the wall at my back. My muscles lock up, tense and rigid. Shouts in Russian come through the wall and the crashing sounds intensify as furniture and other debris fly around the room as they search for me. I choke out a sob, slamming my hand over my mouth to keep quiet.

There’s silence on the other end of the phone.

“Rory?” The sharpness of Aidan’s voice refocuses my attention, and I remember I’m on the phone.

“ There’s someone in the house, ” I get out, hoping he can decipher my terrified whispers.

His voice cools to something frigid, “Who?”

“ I don’t know I ? —”

“Your father’s men?”

I shake my head before remembering he can’t see me. “ No ,” I answer him, “I-I heard them mention Volkov…”

Aidan curses.

“Aurora, come out, come out wherever you are,” Ivan sings through the wall and my breath catches. Something else crashes down hard in my room, sounding an awful lot like my bookshelf collapsing.

Aidan’s quiet for a moment and I check my phone to see if he hung up, but the screen still shows us connected. “Aidan?” I whisper, panic in my voice, though I don’t know what I expect him to do about it. Hell, he’s probably enjoying this, putting me on speaker for the O’Rourke clan to hear.

“Where are you?”

I stumble over my words, trembling at the sounds of boots in the hallway. “Hiding. In one of the guest room closets…”

“Don’t let them find you.”The line goes dead and I stare down at the phone…

He hung up.

My fingers tighten around the phone.

He hung up on me… I can’t believe he hung up on me.

With the Russians tearing through the bathroom across the hall, I regroup, scrolling through my contacts until I find my brother’s name. Niko’s phone goes right to voicemail. No, no, no… I go back through my contacts, but there’s no one else… and so I try Niko again.

By now, Ivan and his men have left my bedroom. A couple of them thud back down the stairs, but at least two stay back, searching the other rooms.

Someone pushes the guest room door open and I hold my breath. My finger slides across the red bar, ending my call. My body trembles with adrenaline. I don’t dare move as he enters the room and looks around. “I know you’re in here, doll,” Ivan’s voice croons.

My mind races to come up with a plan, any plan, but before I can come up with anything, a shadow blocks out the light illuminating the closet.

“Found you,” The Russian sneers, wrenching open the closet door and dragging me out by my hair.

“Let me go!” I struggle against him, but he’s got a solid grip and tears stream down my face from the burn in my scalp. He shoves me toward the bed, thankfully releasing my hair, but there’s nowhere to go—nowhere to run. He’s got me cornered.

“So, this is the little Russian angel everybody’s talking about?” He leans in, his breath a mixture of cigarettes and vodka. “The one whose hand will pay off all of daddy’s debts?” He looks me up and down and bile burns the back of my throat when his hand grips my hip, tugging it closer.

“Don’t touch me,” I bite out, still able to find some defiance in my terror.

He just smiles, and I recoil from his cold eyes. “Daddy should’ve paid his bills… Don’t think you’ll be worth very much once I’m done with you. You know what they say about putting all your eggs in one basket…”

I let out a strangled scream as he grabs hold of my hair again, hurling me onto the bed. Stalking after me and unbuckling his belt, his lips curl up, showing off a yellow-toothed grin. But my eyes go to the dark shadow closing in fast behind him.

Ivan’s smile fades a second before his head twists violently, a little too far the right. A shiver runs through my body and I push myself as far back as I can go on the bed. Watching as Ivan falls to his knees, the light gone from his eyes, dead before his face hits the ground.

Shaking uncontrollably, I stare up at the dark figure standing feet from the side of the bed. Two familiar green eyes stare back at me. My heart is pounding with a mixture of relief and disbelief.

Aidan .

He came.