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18

TALLIE

I had no idea where I was.

We hadn’t driven far, so I knew we were still in Little Rock. I didn’t know much else, just that I was sitting in a massive office that was filled with expensive leather furniture and smelled of expensive cigars and aged whiskey. There were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lining the walls and a grand fireplace nestled in the center. And then, there was the desk.

It was huge and looked like it belonged to a king, and behind it sat the man who had taken me.

I expected a monster.

A scarred, ruthless brute with menacing eyes and a fearsome sneer.

But that wasn’t what I got. Not even close.

This guy was handsome, intimidatingly so, and I found it difficult not to stare at him. He was tall and muscular but not overly so. He had a chiseled square jaw and high cheekbones, and his wavy, dark hair was neatly combed back. His black suit was tailored to perfection, and it made him look powerful and intense.

He was well put together. There was no denying that.

But it was his eyes that intrigued me the most.

They were icy blue, almost too blue, and they shimmered against the darkness of his features. I expected to find a sense of evil lurking behind them but found none. Instead, there was something else. Something I couldn’t quite comprehend.

“Do you know who I am?”

“No.” I straightened my back as I asked, “And what about me? Do you know who I am?”

“You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” His face was void of expression as he told me, “I’m Sergei Volkov, and you are Natalie Warren, artist extraordinaire. Daughter of Jody and Tom Warren.”

“So, what am I doing here? Does this have something to do with my father?”

His lips twitched like he was amused, but it was gone in an instant. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk. “So, you do know why you’re here.”

“No, I don’t.” I lifted my chin and looked him right in the eyes. “I just assumed it had something to do with him since you murdered him and have been searching for something ever since.”

He didn’t deny killing my father.

Nor did he deny he was searching for something.

He just sat there, staring at me with those cold blue eyes for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, he leaned back in his leather chair and said, “Your father made promises. Promises he did not keep.”

“My father and I weren’t close.”

“I’m aware.”

“Then, you know…” My heart pounded, but I didn’t let it show. I refused to let him see an ounce of fear. “I have no idea what my father has been up to, not with you or anyone else.”

Silence.

He didn’t look angered by my answer. It was almost like he expected it. He stood and walked across the room. I didn’t move. I just sat there and watched as he eased the door open and said something to one of the men standing guard. They spoke for a moment, and then, he closed the door and started back over to me.

I should’ve been terrified.

I should’ve been crying and begging for my life.

But I wasn’t.

He didn’t look at me like he wanted to hurt me.

Instead, he seemed intrigued by me. He stopped next to my chair and reached over to me, taking a strand of my hair between his fingers. “You’re beautiful, Miss Warren. I haven’t seen such beautiful woman in quite some time.”

I didn’t respond.

I just gave him a slight roll of the eye.

“It’s true, but that’s not news for you.” His eyes skirted over me. “A woman with your appeal knows the power she possesses. And I must say, it makes me wonder why a lady of such fine caliber would degrade herself by associating with that biker fellow.”

It was strange. He was clearly Russian, just like the men who’d brought me here, but his accent was almost nonexistent. He just dropped a word here and there and had an occasional mix-up on words. It made me wonder if he’d ever actually lived in Russia. Regardless, he was an arrogant asshole. “You don’t know anything about me or my caliber, and you certainly don’t know anything about him!”

“I know his little biker club has made quite a name for themselves.” A smug look crossed his face as he spat, “Good for nothing criminals, if you ask me. Certainly not fit for woman like you.”

“Are you honestly trying to say you’re any better?” I had no idea what I was thinking when I snapped, “You killed my father… and the detective and you kidnapped me! That’s three for three, and I still don’t have any idea why!”

“You have it wrong.” He came back over to the desk and glared at me as he sat down. “I didn’t kill your father.”

“What? But you said…”

“I never said I murdered him, Miss Warren. I said he made promises he did not keep.” He leaned back in his chair. “Your father and I have worked together for many years, and he has made me great deal of money. I considered him a friend. I had no reason, nor desire, to kill him.”

“And the detective?”

“Oh, don’t shed a tear for Detective Joyner. He’s on the payroll. Not mine, but somebody’s. He’s known who killed your father for quite some time, but he has made no move to arrest them. Nor will he.”

“But he seemed…”

“Don’t they all?” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “And as far as you are concerned, yes. I had you kidnapped as a means to an end.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You’re bait,” he answered flatly. “I believe that’s what your people call it.”

“Bait for who?”

“Your brother.”

“What does he have to do with any of this?”

“He has information we need.”

“But he said…”

“He has information we need, Miss Warren, and it would be in his best interest not to pretend otherwise.”

A million questions came rushing through my mind, but before I could ask any of them, there was a tap on the door, and a man walked in. He was wearing a black and clearly expensive suit, and like Sergei, he had dark hair and blue eyes. Only, he wasn’t quite as tall, and he looked to be several years younger.

He never took his eyes off me as he walked over and stood next to Sergei. Once they were side-by-side, it was easy to see that they weren’t just related but brothers. He was still glaring at me when he asked, “This her?”

“It is.” Sergei’s tone was nonchalant as he said, “Miss Warren, I would like you to meet my brother, Viktor.”

“She’s quite beautiful.”

“Yes, she is.”

“Does she know why she’s here?”

“We were just discussing that.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Viktor glanced over at me. “I’d say she already knows too much.”

“Well, that’s for me to decide.” Sergei gave him a firm look. “Did you take care of what I asked you to take care of?”

Viktor gave him a look as he handed him the ledger that I’d tossed out the window. “Don’t I always.”

“And the cars?”

“Taken care of.”

“Good.”

I might’ve been wrong, but I had a feeling they were talking about Detective Joyner and my car. I wondered if they might’ve brought it here, and if so, I could possibly use it for a grand escape. I found that doubtful, especially the way these two seemed to handle things, but it was something to hope for.

Sergei turned his attention to me. “We should get her somewhere more comfortable.”

Viktor nodded, then took a step towards me.

“Keep her close, in case…”

“Understood.”

Viktor stopped when he reached my chair and waited silently until I stood. Without a word, he took hold of my arm and led me out of Sergei’s office. His grasp wasn’t too tight or too loose. It was controlled and steady, just like everything else about him. He opened the office door, and my breath caught when I saw that we weren’t in an office complex or shady hideout. No, this place was something else entirely.

I was only in the hallway, and I could tell that the house was positively exquisite. The ceilings were at least ten feet tall, and every wall was adorned with elaborate paintings of landscapes that looked like they belonged in a museum. There were chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and these weren’t just any old chandeliers. These were the kind that made you gasp just looking at them.

The place screamed wealth and power.

Viktor didn’t say anything as he guided me forward. There were so many things going through my head, and the silence was killing me. When I couldn’t stand it a second longer, I asked, “Can I ask you something?”

The side of Viktor’s mouth twitched like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear whatever I was about to say. “Go ahead.”

I hesitated for a second, then went for it.

“You don’t have an accent.”

His grip on my arm loosened slightly. “Neither do you.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I said. “The others, the men who brought me here had a pretty heavy Russian accent, but you and your brother…”

“That’s because I wasn’t born there. My brothers and I grew up in New York.”

“Really? What part?”

“Brooklyn.”

“No way.” He looked slightly amused when I told him, “My son and I lived in Bay Ridge for almost two years.”

“Bay Ridge?”

“Yeah. We moved there after…” I trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence. “Anyway, we used to eat at a little diner called Maggie’s. Have you ever heard of it?”

He let out a short laugh as he nodded, “Yeah, I know it. Used to go there quite a bit.”

“Seriously?”

“I don’t joke, Miss Warren.” When we reached the end of the hall, Viktor opened a door and said, “You should be comfortable here.”

I stepped inside the enormous bedroom, and just like the hallway, it was elaborately decorated with a king-size bed, a dresser, a sofa, and a private bathroom. I’d never stayed in such a fancy room, but I didn’t like the idea of being locked in there for days on end. “How long will I have to stay in here?”

“As long as it takes.”

“And how do you know that I won’t try to escape?”

“Because if you do, I’ll have to put a bullet in that pretty little head of yours, and neither of us want that.” He reached into his pocket, and I feared he was going to pull out his weapon until I saw bundle of letters. “I believe these belong to you.”

He tossed them on the bed and closed the door. The lock clicked, and just like that, things had gone from bad to worse. I wanted to believe that Rooks would give them the information they needed, and this nightmare would be over. But I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be that easy.

That should have had me spiraling, and it did.

I didn’t know what Sergei and his brother had planned.

I didn’t know if I was going to make it out of there alive, and it terrified me to think that I might not make it back to Ford and Holt. I had no idea what that would mean for them. But as I stood there in my storm of terror and regret, I couldn’t stop staring at the letters.

I knew if I opened them, it would break something inside of me, and I was already on the verge of losing it. I wasn’t sure I could take much more. But the longer I stared at those little white envelopes, the more tempted I became.