Go Full Circle (A Go Novel Book 5)

by Scarlett Finn

  With SweSec in her mind, Harlow closed her eyes, and tried to figure out how she could contact Rupert without Ophelia knowing. It was Friday. SweSec would be closed for the weekend, so she had the next two days to come up with a plan.

  Going to her parents wasn’t an option. It was too far and would take too much time. Her mind was on overdrive. There would be a way to sneak out. There had to be. She just had to figure it out.

  23

  When Ophelia called down to summon her, she said nothing about the way she’d fallen asleep and didn’t ask how Harlow had gotten back to Brash’s. Harlow assumed that Ophelia had chosen to gloss over the haze of pre-naptime, maybe out of embarrassment, or it could just be ignorance.

  Their usual routine continued. Harlow was escorted to Ophelia’s apartment to help her get ready for her night at Windsor’s. She listened to Ophelia wax lyrical about how wonderful the night would be. The singing in the shower was an unusual touch. Ophelia was displaying a kind of happiness that, when related to Ryske’s virtue, made Harlow uncomfortable.

  But she kept her mouth shut and waved Ophelia off with a smile… figuratively speaking.

  Just after one AM, Harlow got a call to go to Ophelia’s apartment.

  Her craving to see Ryske had been at its usual high. Despite that, she dreaded the prospect of seeing him as he had seen her the previous week. If she walked into Ophelia’s bedroom and found the couple naked in bed, there was a good chance that Harlow would have a fit. She didn’t rate her ability to keep her cool at witnessing what would be a horrific sight. It was more likely she’d just vomit right there on the carpet.

  Her escort stayed in the open elevator door, watching her, as he always would, until she went inside. Harlow had to steel herself before opening the apartment door. She feared finding a scene of seduction. Ryske on the couch lit by candles, maybe a bearskin rug on the floor. Okay, yeah, she knew that was unlikely, but her imagination wasn’t playing nice.

  With her breath held, she opened the door only to be faced with a far different sight.

  Ophelia was pacing up and down in front of the fireplace wearing an expression of grief and anger. Penzance sat on the middle of the couch.

  Striding across the room, Harlow’s alarm level skyrocketed. “What’s going on?” she asked Penzance, stopping at the end of the couch, keeping an eye on Ophelia.

  Her boss was the one to respond. “I am going to shoot something, I swear I will.”

  If anyone else said that, Harlow would assume they were exaggerating. With Ophelia, that wasn’t an automatic assumption.

  “I don’t—”

  “He didn’t show,” Penzance explained. “Maze covered for Ryske tonight.”

  “He wasn’t there?” she asked, skirting the end table to sit by Penzance. “At all?”

  “Maze told us Ryske wasn’t going to show. Miss Hagan stayed, just in case.”

  Obviously, Ophelia’s stamina ran out. She had stayed at Windsor’s for a while but was home much earlier than normal.

  “Did Maze say where Ryske was?”

  A part of Harlow wanted to do a happy dance. Ryske must have known that Ophelia was going to push her agenda hard this week. The transfer of ownership of the club would be imminent. Ophelia may be questioning her usefulness. The crux of Ophelia’s plan involved getting Ryske’s attention by being a savvy businesswoman who was willing to take risks.

  Losing the club in the card game hadn’t mattered so early in the plan. Now that all these weeks had passed and she still wasn’t with him, Ophelia had to be pondering what Ryske’s ownership of Windsor’s would mean for her. Sure, it was insignificant which of them owned the club if they were together. If they weren’t, it made a huge difference. Ophelia hadn’t banked on failing.

  Miss Hagan’s confidence level had been high. She’d believed that Ryske would be hers before ownership transferred. With a fixation on her plot to nab Harlow, she hadn’t considered what would happen if her plan failed.

  Maybe that’s what Harlow was witnessing. The acceptance of reality. If Ophelia was talking about shooting people, she hadn’t come to any encouraging conclusions.

  “He could be sick,” Harlow said.

  Even if Ryske was struck down with flu, Harlow wasn’t worried. Sure, she’d like to play nursemaid, but with the way his libido responded to her, it was probably best that she wasn’t around to exacerbate him.

  If there was anything more serious wrong with him, Harlow had faith that the doctor would patch him up. In the case of anything serious that worried Bale, he’d get word to her, one way or another, of that she had no doubt.

  Ophelia stopped pacing and thrust her fists to her hips. “Why wouldn’t he have sent me a message?”

  “What did Maze say?”

  “Rowe? That idiot wouldn’t say a word; just that we got him instead. What is that? Ryske can’t send a ringer. That’s insane.”

  Harlow didn’t know why a ringer was a problem; Ryske trusted Maze. Ophelia might not understand how much, but it should be apparent given that Ryske had made it clear Svetlana and her girls were to be protected. He wouldn’t send someone in his stead who’d give any less to their protection than he would.

  “It’s just one week,” Harlow said, sliding deeper into the couch. “I’d guess he’s got other business interests that probably need his attention too.”

  “Other business interests or other women.” Ophelia let that hang for a minute. “Anwen wasn’t there either.”

  “Anwen wasn’t there last week, was she?” Harlow said, though she hadn’t really gotten an explanation as to why Anwen was absent.

  “Because I told her not to come,” Ophelia said. “With the practice we’ve had, we’re much more efficient. We don’t need much support.”

  Or because Ophelia was threatened by the woman’s proximity to Ryske since she’d claimed to be sleeping with him again. Maybe Ophelia had noticed the bracelet on Anwen’s wrist and been threatened by it more than she let on.

  “Did you tell her not to come this week too?” Harlow asked. “Maybe she thought it was an indefinite disinvite. You can be quite harsh, Ophelia. Maybe you hurt her feelings.”

  Harlow hadn’t seen Anwen around Ophelia’s that week. Though that in itself didn’t mean the women hadn’t seen, or spoken to, each other. Ophelia was out and about most days and made several calls. Harlow didn’t track her every move.

  The request she’d made to her crew about removing Anwen from the apartment was real. She’d asked her crew to be subtle about making it happen. Maybe this development was a sign that they’d chosen to move on her appeal. Except, she couldn’t see why evicting Anwen would lead to Ryske not being at Windsor’s.

  “I didn’t hurt her feelings,” Ophelia said. “They’ve run off together or something. They’re on some vacation. Off enjoying each other, leaving the rest of us to do their work.”

  Ophelia’s rage was boiling when she started pacing again. Even though she shouldn’t, Harlow turned a smile to Penzance who seemed surprised to see it.

  “You’re okay with that?” he asked.

  “That Ryske and Anwen are on vacation together?” Harlow asked. “Why wouldn’t I be… lover?”

  He seemed to have forgotten that they were supposed to be screwing around. “Just checking,” he said, covering for his question.

  Harlow sucked in a breath. “Now that mystery is solved, I guess it’s time for bed,” she said and stood up again. “Would you like to shower before bed, Ophe or skip it? Guess you don’t need it if you’re not getting laid.”

  Being smug wasn’t smart. It was just luck that Ophelia had selective hearing when she was angry.

  “Bed? How can you think about bed?” Ophelia snapped. “We have to do something about this.”

  Harlow shouldn’t have laughed, but she did. Ophelia stopped to blink at her. “I’m sorry,” Harlow said. “But what do you think you’re going to do? Even if you could find out where they are, do you think showing up and walking in
on them is going to make him want you? If Ryske’s getting some and Anwen’s happy, you’ll only look like a crazy person by injecting yourself into their bliss.”

  “A crazy person! A crazy person?”

  “She’s right,” Penzance said. “You’ve gotta eat this one, Miss Hagan. Wherever he is and whatever he’s doing, you’re not invited.” Standing up, Penzance slid an arm around her shoulders to pull her close. “Want to invite me downstairs, lover?”

  That sounded like an excellent idea. Penzance might know more than he was revealing to Ophelia, so Harlow nodded. “Sure, come on.”

  They barely got one step before Ophelia leaped forward. “I don’t think so! I make the rules around here and no one is spending the night with anyone!”

  “I don’t need to spend the night,” Penzance said, squeezing Harlow’s shoulder. “I can be done in a half hour.”

  Wham, bam, indeed. Harlow drove an elbow into his ribs. “You’ll need at least an hour, or I’m not wasting my time.”

  “I think I can stretch to that,” Penzance said, dipping to kiss her cheek.

  “I said no,” Ophelia said. “No. No. No! Vane you can leave. Go home. Don’t come back until you’re summoned.”

  Uh oh. Harlow didn’t say it out loud, but when she looked up at Penzance, she could tell he didn’t like the prospect of being expelled either.

  “What if he hears from Ryske?” Harlow asked, attempting to sway the jailor.

  “If he hears from him, he can call me,” Ophelia said, raising her chin to look down her nose. “I doubt Ryske will be in touch with him before he contacts me. I will be calling Ryske myself. As soon as he knows I am upset, he will be at my side.”

  Harlow wanted to tell her not to hold her breath, but Ophelia was deluded enough to believe what she was saying. If after all this time, she wasn’t getting the hint that Ryske didn’t want her, she was gullible enough to believe anything. There was no underestimating the lengths she’d go to either. Ophelia could dangle her minion’s safety in front of him and Ryske knew she was a killer. It would betray the truth of their feelings if he rushed to Ophelia to save his ex, but he would do anything to keep her safe.

  “Then there’s nothing to worry about,” Harlow said and tried to pull Penzance with her. “Bed time, baby.”

  Ophelia dashed over and actually pulled the couple apart. “You will not be having sex tonight, Harlow.”

  If Ophelia wasn’t getting any, she didn’t want Harlow getting any either. That attitude was frustrating as hell. Not for the sex part, that didn’t register; she hadn’t expected to get laid tonight. But Harlow needed time alone with Penzance to find out what he knew, if he knew anything.

  Penzance had refused to pass messages for her. It was possible that Maze was more persuasive or that something dire had happened to cause Penzance to make an exception. They were out of luck. Ophelia was adamant about separating them, and took Penzance’s arm to drag him towards the door.

  “Come on. Really?” Penzance asked, letting himself be led. “If she can’t have sex, I can’t have sex.”

  “You’re not faithful to her,” Ophelia said. “I officially release you from your bond of faithfulness.” Opening the front door, Ophelia shoved him out. “Go and cheat on her.” She slammed the door and then turned to storm back into the living room. “Ryske would not stand me up.”

  As usual, it was all about Ophelia… which meant it was all about Ryske. Penzance was forgotten.

  “Did you have a date planned with him?” Harlow asked, giving in to the inevitable that Ophelia wanted to rant.

  “Every Friday is our date.”

  “Oh,” Harlow said because she hadn’t known Ophelia felt that way.

  It had to be in Ophelia’s head. The idea of Ryske setting a date night made her lips quirk. Maybe he had implied to Ophelia that he had a different day for different women .

  “Yes,” Ophelia said and pushed Harlow toward the couch again.

  She sat down. “But didn’t you just say he was off on vacation with Anwen?”

  “Maybe he is. Maybe she persuaded him to do something he didn’t want to do. You know what she’s like. Maybe she blackmailed him.”

  Ophelia sat down and rested an arm on the back of the couch, her eyes moving around like she was speculating. Harlow was too busy losing her own smile to worry about what was in Ophelia’s head. Yes, she did know what Anwen was like. She kicked herself for not thinking about it before when she was making requests.

  Anwen had blackmailed Ryske into her bed; that’s how their affair had started. Anwen had valuable information that could hurt Ryske and her too. It was possible Anwen had found the murder weapon or the recording before Dover could move them, or maybe she was just taking a chance and had threatened Ryske with making a confession.

  Any number of scenarios rushed through Harlow’s mind. The possibilities were serious, possibly grave. Anwen blackmailing Ryske into her bed would be bad enough. But that was a better prospect than other things she might have demanded he do. Maybe she’d forced him to go somewhere or to commit a crime that could lead to serious trouble.

  In his current mood, with the trajectory of his reckless behavior, Ryske had proved that he wasn’t thinking straight. It could be that he’d gone too far in doing her bidding. Maybe he was in a police cell.

  Harlow had been sure that if he was ill to the point of being near death that Bale would get to her. But what if Ryske was already gone? If it had happened fast, there would have been nothing anyone could’ve done. Given that she was in the midst of important work, the guys could have decided not to tell her anything.

  Fear became panic. Although she knew Ophelia was talking, Harlow couldn’t hear her. Maze. If something had happened to Ryske, Maze wouldn’t have been handing out Pothos like everything was normal, would he?

  Jumping to the conclusion that the worst had happened was easy. Calming herself was harder. Harlow reminded herself to have faith in her crew like they had faith in her. They were out there looking after Ryske. All she could do was trust that her love was safe.

  If he wasn’t, then the worst had already happened. If she got confirmation of that, she’d know how to act.

  “You aren’t even listening,” Ophelia said, lunging forward to jab Harlow’s shoulder. “Listen to me!”

  “I can’t tell you where he is, Ophelia,” Harlow snapped. “I’m here! I’m not out there! You have access that I don’t… I’m not psychic! I don’t know where he is or who he’s fucking! I don’t know if he’s dead or alive! I can’t confirm anything for you!”

  Apparently, she hadn’t succeeded in calming herself as much as she thought. Although she’d shouted, Harlow hadn’t upset Ophelia who was drawing a line back and forth on the fabric of the couch.

  Probably because the devious mare’s mind was elsewhere. “You have access to his people… You could have access…”

  The reason for her summoning became clear. Rising to her feet, Harlow flattened her skirt over her thighs, and turned to face the seated woman. “There’s not a chance in hell I’d use any of my connections to help you,” she said, finding her composure. “I sure won’t do it just because you’re horny… This is your obsession, Ophelia. Your vendetta. Ryske is your fetish.”

  “But he once was yours.”

  “Mine,” Harlow said, letting her features relax. “Yes, that’s right. He was mine. In a way you’ll never understand.”

  Harlow was too tired to play this game, so she headed for the door.

  Ophelia leaped up to chase after her. “Where are you going? We have to figure this out.”

  Without hesitating, she opened the front door. “I’m going to bed, Ophelia,” Harlow said. “You want to sit up all night mooning, you do it. I won’t be a part of it.”

  Asserting herself to the woman who’d worked so hard to break her was a risk. It clearly stunned Ophelia. But that was fine. The gaping gave Harlow the opportunity to make her exit without having to combat further arguments. S
he had her own worries about Ryske and his safety. The last thing she wanted to do was listen to Ophelia who believed she had some right to fret.

  When Harlow was in the world, she’d asked Ryske to trust that she could look after herself. She had to pay him the same courtesy. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t worry. She just had to keep reminding herself of her faith in him. Whatever he was going through, Ryske could handle it.

  24

  Ophelia’s mood only worsened as the weekend went on. By Monday, Harlow had been relegated to her room and told to stay there. She didn’t mind being punished by imprisonment. At least it saved her from having to listen to Ophelia’s paranoid ranting.

  Ryske hadn’t called Ophelia. Big surprise. He hadn’t been in touch with any of the consortium. Ophelia was being vigilant about asking on a regular basis. So far, no one had owned up to hearing from him.

  Her staff were the ones to suffer as her anger built. Barking orders and slinging insults, Ophelia was alienating people left and right. Even Brash was at the end of his patience with her. Harlow had heard him griping to one of his minion buddies about their boss. His attitude stank all the time, so Harlow was pleased that in her prison, she got to avoid him too.

  All through Monday, she tried to figure out how she might get to SweSec to begin making sense of the receipt she’d found. Problem was, with Ophelia in such a bad mood, it wasn’t likely that the mistress would be granting any respite any time soon.

  Penzance hadn’t been allowed to visit. Harlow had asked for him over the weekend. Their fake relationship gave her a reason to request him. Ophelia thought she wanted to get laid. In truth, Harlow only wanted information.

  Ophelia was blind to everything that wasn’t Ryske. Her need for him seemed to be growing to a fever pitch. In some ways, Harlow could identify. A tiny part of her actually felt sorry for the woman.