“But we asked the contacts we have in his team. They said they haven’t seen a girl matching Tess’s description. If we barge in and start shooting, you’re ruined, Q. The rest of your contacts will come after you. Think clearly for a moment. Are you sure he’s got her?”
I bared my teeth and rushed back to the bed. Grabbing the laptop with the flickering red dot in Moscow, I shoved the machine into his arms. “Enough f**king proof for you?”
Leaving him to worry that my company was about to dissemble and fall into ruin, I careened into the lounge to find Franco.
I moved like a f**king whirlwind of male fury.
His dark brown hair hung over his forehead and lack of sleep made his eyes raw and brutal. He looked up as I crooked a finger for him to come to me. When he was away from the other staff, I muttered, “Call up nine of your top mercenaries. Meet me at the airport in an hour. We’re going in. I don’t care if we have to kill every last bastard if it means we find her.”
No element of surprise or pause; Franco knew when to just obey orders. His eyes glinted with pleasure. “Yes, sir. I’ll see you at the airport.”
Frederick, with his old fashioned style and friendly personality was the polar opposite to me—he lived a tame life, married the sweet girl, lived in a presentable house—while Franco, the man I hired because I saw how efficiently he killed, indulged in the same hobbies I did, just on a more acceptable scale. Franco and I never talked about our similarities, but we knew. It was easy to spot the monster in others. He may look like a gentleman: moving sedately, speaking eloquently, but beneath the sleek façade lurked a killer with a temper. Franco had no remorse for dealing out vengeance to those who deserved it.
And that made him f**king perfect.
I may be going to Moscow, to the den of the Red Wolverine, but I went with armed men whom I trusted with my life.
My cell phone rang in my pocket. I grabbed it with one hand, nodding at Franco to go and fulfil his orders.
“Mercer,” I snapped.
Frederick came back into the lounge and gave me the thumbs-up sign. The tightness in my chest unwound a little. His approval for smashing the reputation of Moineau Holdings meant more than I wanted to admit. Who knew what we would be able to salvage from the rubble once this was all over.
Once it got out that I accepted women as bribes, my true contacts would dry up. And when the knowledge that I let those women go and I was on the war path for the f**ktards who sold them to me landed on evil ears, I was painting a massive bull’s-eye on my back.
“Frederick just told me you’re heading to Russia. I must advise you that our intel won’t back you up if anything goes wrong. Think carefully, Quincy. We can’t help you if you leave our protection.”
The chief of police, also a close confidant, lectured me. The same man who encouraged me to see how deep my emotions went for Tess. The same man who told me he wouldn’t arrest me if I decided to keep Tess indefinitely.
I didn’t like that he gave me double standards—I didn’t deserve it.
I swallowed back the curses I wanted to throw. His heart was in a good place. “I won’t do anything stupid, Dubois.”
He chuckled. “I don’t believe that for a second. But I had to call and say my piece. Just…just promise me you won’t put your life on the line for one woman.”
My finger twitched on the hang up button. “She’s more than just one woman, Dubois.” She’s my life.
Silence reigned before the police chief sighed. “In that case, you have our backing. If and when the newspapers get wind of what you’ve done, I’ll try and issue a gag order to the best of my ability.”
“Merci.” I hung up before he could sprout some other bullshit wisdom. I didn’t need wisdom at a time like this. I needed a semi-automatic and a rocket launcher.
Pressing the number on speed-dial, I called Hans, who lived on standby to fly my G650 private jet. He answered on the first ring.
“Arrange a flight plan to Moscow. Leaving in sixty minutes. I’ll see you soon.” I hung up, watching the commotion in the room. Soon this would all be over, and Tess would be safely back with me. That moment seemed too distant to contemplate. I couldn’t imagine ever feeling human again until I had her back in my bed.
My phone rang. I answered it on autopilot. “Quoi?” What?
“Master, please give me some news. Any news! Have you found her yet?” Suzette’s sweet voice came down the phone, high with panic. I regretted telling her yesterday. She’d caught me off guard, complaining I hadn’t given her instructions for dinner, asking if Tess and I were returning home that night.
I snapped and told her of course I wouldn’t be f**king coming home that night or any night, not while Tess was stolen and in danger. That just opened a huge barrel of f**king problems.
“You have to let me work, Suzette. I’ll call you the moment I’ve got her.”
A sniff came down the line followed by a hard-edged promise. “You find her, and you make those bastards pay. She belongs with us. Find her quickly.”
I couldn’t speak; my throat snapped closed.
Tess touched all our lives, and we’d all be ruined if she never returned.
There was nothing I could say. Nothing I wanted to say. I just grunted and hung up.
*****
Half an hour later, we pulled up at the private wing of the airport. I went to open the car door but paused. Turning to Frederick, I said, “You’ve done more than enough, Roux. Go home to Angelique.” I slapped him on the shoulder in gratitude. In all honesty, I didn’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t been there that first afternoon. My migraine rendered me incapacitated while he orchestrated a worldwide manhunt.
“I’m coming. No questions or arguments.” He smiled. “I told you; I want to meet the woman who wrapped you around her little finger.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t expect you to give any more than you already have.”
He nodded, glancing out the window. “I know. But you’d do the same for me. I keep putting myself in your shoes, and it’s a f**king painful place to be, Q. I love Angelique, we’ve been together for ten years, and the thought of suddenly being without her…it’s excruciating.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “That’s why you should go home to her. I don’t want to be the reason why you don’t return.”
His forehead furrowed as his temper filled the car. “I’m coming. Shut up.”
There was nothing else I could do. I’d tried to protect him—this wasn’t his battle, but I wasn’t going to waste time or resources by arguing. I shrugged and exited the car.
Franco stood by the plane steps, giving me a hard grin. “Don’t worry. She was strong enough to stand up to you. She’s strong enough to stand up to whoever took her.”
A proud smile tainted my sorrow-tugged mouth. “She’s the strongest woman I know.” Memories of whipping her, f**king her, heated my blood. Throughout everything I did to her, she never broke. I had to hold faith that she’d remain strong.
I nodded to Franco and entered the plush interior of the Jetstream. Down the back, nine men had already buckled up ready to go—an army of cloned power, ruthlessness, and severity. Black suits, black ties, and white shirts, I had an entire cast of James f**king Bond at my disposal.
As I sat down, a single thought popped into my head. I’m not frightened she won’t fight, I’m worried she’ll fight too hard. If the Red Wolverine had her she wouldn’t stay in a singular piece for long, especially if this was revenge against me.
My hands wrapped around the armrests as the monster inside me went wild with the need to kill.
“We’ll find her in time, boss.” Franco patted my shoulder as he headed down the aisle to his colleagues.
The pessimistic part of me—or was it the realistic part—wasn’t so sure. I knew what Gerald was capable of. I’d rescued enough slaves from his stables to hear countless stories of torture and rape.
My skin crawled at the thought of Tess in his clutches. I forced myself to stop thinking about it. I shifted in the seat, hating sitting still, hating the feel of not moving, not hunting.
Hans appeared in the doorway. He wore an understated suit and cap with gold wings embroidered on the front. The moment I saw him, I demanded, “Get us airborne. I want to be in Russia yesterday.”
He nodded, his bright red hair sticking out the sides of his hat. “I have clearance to take off in fifteen minutes, sir. Our flight plan has been approved. We’ll be there in approximately three and a half hours.”
It was three and a half hours too long, but it would have to do.
Tess, stay alive. You f**king stay alive, or I’ll hunt your ghost and whip you stupid for leaving me.
The animal inside hadn’t calmed down. It wanted to gallop across the earth, sniffing, tracking, hunting the f**king bastards who’d taken Tess. I wanted to pull out their guts with my claws and howl to the goddamn moon when I had their blood on my hands.
Sighing, I closed my eyes and tried to keep my stress level under control. But as the engines whirred and we shot down the runway, I stayed tightly wound, tense as a f**king loaded slingshot.
And I would stay that way till I found Tess.
*****
We touched down, and two black vans met us at the flight of stairs. Half the army of guards disappeared into one while Franco and the remaining crew came with me.
Moscow was cold, but not wintery. No snow graced the cityscape, no ice layered the roads. But damn, the wind bit through my suit like daggers.
The dark evening was broken by spotlights on the airport and a huge silver moon.
I’d been to Russia more times than I could count, but I never lingered. Something about this country didn’t sit well with me. And it wasn’t the prettiness or the quaintness that tourists were allowed to see.
No. I didn’t like Russia because the dark underbelly indulged in far too many sins—sins I’d committed and wanted to commit over and over. I could control myself only if temptation was far away. And Russia welcomed corruptness with open arms. I’d never psychoanalyzed myself before, but I knew I was an addict for sadism, and Russia was sweet tantalization.
I wasn’t strong enough to endure such a place.
No one spoke as the van whirred down semi-vacant streets. Slipping beneath the moon, coasting through streetlights, and past cute little store-fronts. The closer we got to the kingdom of Gerald Dubolazov, the more the atmosphere in the van thickened until every breath tasted of anticipation and hunger for blood. We morphed from businessmen to savage hunters, and I never wanted to tame myself again.
We weren’t on our way to sign paperwork and indulge in mindless chitchat. We were going to war on behalf of a woman I was falling for. A woman who would be the catalyst for my business crumbling and my fortune draining away. But I would give it all away in a second if I could have her back intact.
The beast inside snarled and ripped holes in my soul. The darkness billowed, and I no longer had the strength to fight it. I would never fully repress it again. But I didn’t care.
I liked acknowledging this part of myself. I loved being free for the first time in my life.
Even running on no sleep, barely any food or water, I revved on a higher plane. I was strong enough to find Tess, but only if I embraced the monster inside me.
Consequences would come later.
The van swung around the last corner, tyres squealing. “This one, boss?” one of Franco’s men asked, slowing down to pull into an alley. Beside us rose a huge majestic hotel. Designed in typical Russian beauty, it stood out like a ruby glinting in the night. Red accents on windowsills and plasterwork looked as good as the day it was painted. The pale pink turrets looked like a cupcake, iced by some f**king fairy.
I was proud of this project but wanted to tear it the f**k down with my bare hands until nothing remained. And I would if Gerald had hurt Tess. I’d blow it up, with him inside.
“Yes,” I said, glaring out the window, looking for onlookers.
No one walked past the alley, no one disturbed us. “Let’s go,” I muttered, twisting in my seat to face Franco. He was already prepared, leaning forward, tension palpable in his tight muscles.
The moment his eyes met mine, he placed a semi-automatic into my awaiting palm and snapped a radio watch onto my wrist.
“Frequency is set, all you have to do is speak into it, and the team will hear you.” All business, he pushed a few extra clips into my blazer breast pocket, and fumbled in the black canvas bag beside him for a wicked sharp hunting knife. “You have enough rounds to kill most of the staff inside, so you should be covered, but keep the knife on you, just in case.”
I took the handle, running a thumb over the sharp blade. A strange haze came over me, removing me from the van, hurtling me into darkness.
Franco knew my aversion to carrying a knife into a tense altercation. Guns kept me human—impersonal, remote from taking a life. But a knife? A knife spoke to the beast. It made my mouth water at the thought of slipping the blade between an enemy’s ribcage and piercing their heart. To be so up close and personal, to feel their last breath, knowing I stole it from them. It made me f**king hard and twisted my brain into something monstrous.
The temptation was exquisite, filling my mind with ruthless power. My hands shook with the need to gut Gerald the Wolverine. If I took this there would be no turning back. I would be admitting that Tess was gone, and I was sacrificing not just my livelihood and countless of freed slaves, but my sanity, too.
I’d fought my battle for twenty-eight long years. Exhausted myself into believing I could be just a man—a human without the savagery of a monster. If I let myself slip now, it was all over.